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Stolen by the Rebel King

As a princess who could not wield magic, Princess Daphne’s only value to her kingdom was her arranged marriage. The task was simple, but when Daphne was kidnapped and brought to the cold mountains of Vramid, she realized that she was in over her head. She had heard of these cursed mountains before― rocky terrain, freezing temperatures, and the land was ruled by a man feared by many within the continent. King Atticus Heinvres, the blood-thirsty ruler of the North. Even though she had never met him before, tales were spread of King Atticus’s ruthlessness. Some said he was a monster, others claimed he was the devil himself, but whatever the story was, everyone knew of the man who had powers beyond anyone’s imagination. He could topple armies and crumble nations with just one wave of his hand, aided by what others rumored to be a cursed obsidian ring. No one outside of Vramid had ever met the fearsome king before. Not until Daphne. However, upon meeting the formidable man, Daphne found out that the king might not really be the monster others had claimed him to be. In fact, what was hidden under that obsidian shield could just be a diamond in the rough. ― [Excerpt] “Now… where should I put you both?” he asked casually, not expecting a reply. “It’s regretful that I only have one chandelier.” “Underneath my bed? No, no, too dirty. My dust bunnies don’t deserve this,” Atticus mused to himself. “The mantlepiece? How about the vanity table? I suppose if I lop off one of your heads I could mount it over… Wife, which head do you want to stare at while you do your hair?” “Atticus!” Daphne screamed. “I don’t want any heads! Let them go.” “Fair enough.” Atticus shrugged, and flicked his fingers. There were two identical cracks as both necks snapped at once. Daphne gasped, horrified. This man, her husband, had just killed two men with a flick of his finger, as though he was snuffing out candles. “I told you to let them go!” Daphne cried out. “Yes, I let them go,” Atticus said. Then, his eyes darkened. “To receive divine judgment from the heavens.” ― Discord Server: https://discord.gg/7HAMK2bRYU Spin-off/Prequel: The Hidden King's Stolen Wife (WIP)

saltedpepper · 奇幻言情
分數不夠
578 Chs

The Ins and Outs

Atticus strolled out of his new wedding chamber, internally snickering at the idea of his new wife cursing him in her sleep. Since she already had less than positive feelings about him, he might as well relish in the moment. There was no way she could escape; she was exhausted and Jonah had put his best guards along the perimeter of the castle.

Speaking of Jonah…

"Jonah, report," Atticus demanded the moment he strode through Jonah's office. Jonah leapt to his feet from his desk.

"You're done? So quickly? It's barely half an hour since I last saw you!" Jonah exclaimed. "Did the assassins injure your manhood? Stay put, I'll get the physician!"

"Yell louder, I'm sure the whole castle would love to hear about my imagined impotence," Atticus said dryly. "Nothing happened."

"Then why did you take half an hour?" Jonah asked curiously. "Don't tell me you were just staring at her the whole time."

Atticus was silent.

"You were?" Jonah let out a bark of laughter. "The power of love is wondrous."

"It's not love," Atticus corrected, "She's a means to an end. Don't get too attached to her."

"Yes Sire," Jonah said, his smile dimming at the reminder. It was a pity that Princess Daphne entered their kingdom in less than ideal circumstances, but Vramid had very few cards to play when it came to the security of their kingdom.

Hence the planned kidnapping.

"And here's the report I promised you," Jonah said, handing Atticus a parchment. The ink was still wet at the end, and there was a huge line where Jonah was startled by Atticus' early entrance, but it contained a wealth of information and confirmed some suspicions.

"You believe they snuck into our kingdom as traders?" Atticus asked, reading it carefully.

"Definitely. We only started keeping close track of who enters and leaves our borders when you took over, and even now, every summer we welcome a huge party of traders with goods from other countries and they stay for at least a year. What's stopping our enemies from slipping in a spy or assassin?"

Atticus scowled, frustrated. Traders were a necessity to Vramid's survival. If he had to increase the requirements for traders to enter, they would simply seek their fortunes elsewhere, leading his people to suffer.

Yet he couldn't leave this problem alone. He couldn't ignore the fact that assassins had managed to ambush him on his wedding night.

Atticus knew that there was no possible way they could have crossed the mountainous path to enter the country in time, regardless of whether they were from Reaweth or Raxuvia. He had accounted for that in his plans.

Either he had spies from other kingdoms pretending to be his own citizens while still being in touch with their masters, or someone from his inner circle had leaked their plans to their enemies.

Both outcomes were terrible for Vramid, and both outcomes could be true. Atticus gripped at the parchment hard enough for it to tear, the obsidian in his ring casting long shadows in the room.

"Hey, I worked on this report. Don't ruin it," Jonah reminded him gently, tugging the report away.

"How many people know about the attack?"

"Truthfully? The entire castle," Jonah said regrettably. "For such a small team, they made a huge commotion. Almost like they wanted everyone to see them."

Atticus cursed. That was true. If they had wanted to rescue the princess, they could have simply snatched her when the maids were preparing her for the wedding ceremony. There would be no need to wait for him to arrive.

"The winter fair is coming soon. I'll double your guard," Jonah continued firmly.

"I don't need protection."

"Your wife does, and you'll be with her." There was a knowing glint in Jonah's eyes.

"I can protect her."

"And the guards will protect you," Jonah retorted, in a tone that brooked no argument. "Don't fight me on this. You know I'm right. You're strong, but not invincible. And if you're distracted by her, you won't be at your best."

"I'm not distracted by her nor will I be," Atticus said.

Jonah merely stared at him steadily with a raised eyebrow. Who was the one that stared at his new wife for half an hour? Despite claiming that she was nothing more than the means to an end?

"Fine," Atticus sulked, giving in because he didn't want to waste his time arguing about this. "I'll agree to your stupid request."

"And maybe you should bully your wife less. My nephew can woo girls better than you." Jonah continued cheekily, "Pigtail-pulling is beneath you, my liege― ouch, ouch, ouch!"

Atticus put Jonah in a headlock, and only let go when Jonah pleaded for mercy.

After Jonah caught his breath, he continued more seriously. "Speaking of your wife, I can't believe the rumors were true. She really can't do any magic at all?"

"So far, none." Atticus frowned.

It was almost unheard of for royalty to have no affinity for magic. After all, their ancestors had ensured that they kept magic in the royal bloodline by marrying mages as concubines and killing those unwilling. Now, it was rare for any commoner to have magic abilities.

If Daphne had no magic affinity, and he had a child with her… Vramid would be severely weakened.

He had purposely terrified her, hoping for signs of accidental magic to show. There was nothing.

And then there was that useless piece of rock she wore around her neck. It was pretty, made of what seemed like a clear quartz that had diamonds embedded around it. If it were just a flashy piece of jewelry at the bottom of a noble lady's jewelry box, Atticus would've thought nothing of it.

But that was exactly the problem.

That was just what it was― an accessory. Beautiful but useless.

Why had she held onto it so tightly like it would save her life? Did she honestly think that it would?

"She was wearing this," Atticus said, throwing something towards Jonah.

When the latter caught the shards that came flying at him, he frowned, observing what was left. It seemed like a necklace. There was a chain and broken bits that could've made out a pretty pendant. Other than that, Jonah couldn't tell what was special about it that would've prompted his king to keep the remains.

"A necklace?" Jonah questioned.

"One from the Reawethen vault, most probably," Atticus responded. "They had a few useless trinkets like these back then."

Jonah wrinkled his nose. "And what's so special about this then?" he asked, toying with the pieces. "This is… junk now. The shards are too small to work with now that you've gone and shattered it."

"She was wearing this when she first arrived." Atticus heavily slumped into the sofa placed by the window of Jonah's office. "Holding onto it like it was her ticket out of here."

Something clicked in Jonah's head.

"You think that this is why―"

"Find out everything there is to know about it," Atticus cut in. "Report back on your findings."

"Of course, Your Majesty," Jonah said. He tucked the leftover pieces of the necklace in a napkin before tucking it in his pocket. "Oh and one more thing."

Atticus raised an eyebrow.

"What?"

"The winter fair," Jonah said. A sly grin crept up his face, shaping his lips. "Does the princess know you're about to take her out on a date yet?"