Stolen by the Rebel King

36  Two Steps Back

"The poison… It must be the poison. It affected your hearing," Daphne spluttered, trying to pull her hand away from his. "Go back to bed. I'll check if Jonah has prepared your medication."

Atticus beamed. He knew the truth; there was no poison at all. He wanted to pat himself on the back; his plan was a resounding success!

Instead, he pressed a gentle kiss to her knuckles. "Leaving so soon? I thought we would finally be able to spend time together. Alone. Away from prying eyes."

"You― You're such an infuriating man," Daphne complained. Yet, she made no move to pull her hand out of his. It sat there, connected to his own, palm to palm, skin to skin. Whatever warmth she felt was shared with him, and him with her.

"I'm <nulli>your infuriating man," Atticus corrected her. His expression then turned serious. "I meant what I said just now, Daphne."

He didn't need to state specifically what exactly he was talking about but Daphne knew. Yet, it was too soon. It was all happening too quickly. As best as she could, she suppressed the fluttering that was threatening to explode from her ribcage, calmed down her thundering heart, and kept her expression controlled. Daphne wasn't going to flare up as she did in the bath, but she wasn't going to turn into a mushy pile of lovesick mess too.

"I'll go check on Jonah," she said softly, gently slipping her hands out of Atticus's grip.

Before Atticus could say anything else, Daphne escaped from the room with her tail between her legs, scuttling down the corridor until she was sure she was out of Atticus's hearing range. She allowed herself a second to stop and breathe, holding her hand over her chest where her heart was.

'Stop it,' she scolded herself. 'Have you forgotten who he is? Have you forgotten what he has done?'

That was the thing. She couldn't. No amount of sweet talk and happy moments could erase the fact that Atticus had kidnapped her on the day she was to be wedded to another man. With how the events are headed, this was basically her being conditioned into loving him!

She would never deny it though― Atticus was a much better person than the rumors had made him out to be. He had shown her more compassion than menace. What's more, this time, it was truly her fault that he ended up ill.

Having learned her lesson, Daphne asked around for directions and quickly found her way to the kitchens. She was just about to step in when she heard a familiar voice talking, followed by a strong, pungent scent that made her skin crawl in disgust. It smelled as though someone had boiled rotten eggs with pickled vegetables in water taken from the sewers.

"You're absolutely brutal." It was Jonah. "Atticus will surely throw up a storm after."

"He wouldn't dare," another familiar voice ― which Daphne recognized as Healer Sirona's ― replied. "If he does, indeed, dish out punishments, it wouldn't be too hard to stamp it down once we remind him why he is being served this tonic in the first place."

"You could've given him something more palatable," Jonah commented. Daphne didn't dare step into the kitchen to look, lest they noticed her, but from the way he spoke, she guessed he was pinching his nose. "This is absolutely vile. Really? Aedrove vine and waybread seeds? This is basically regicide."

"You'll get used to it eventually." In comparison, Sirona's voice was much calmer. Perhaps this was the behavior of someone that consistently and routinely worked with various herbs and brews. "It's much better to give him something that could benefit his body than taste good but harm him. He's fit as a fiddle, anyway. I most certainly do not wish to do more harm than good."

"At least the queen didn't catch on." Jonah sighed. There was a slight sizzling sound before the brew started smelling even more horrendous― if that was even possible. "If not, the king will be sleeping on the couch for sure."

"He really is going to the extremes, isn't he?" Sirona commented, "I've never seen him so… so…"

"Dedicated?"

"Smitten," Sirona said. "It's like he's completely head over heels for the girl. But wasn't she kidnapped here as a pawn? He definitely didn't act as though he was in love with her when he had first given out the orders of bringing her here to Vramid."

"I didn't think it would happen too," Jonah confessed. "He had a much clearer mind before she was brought here. Now he's like a lovesick puppy. Don't get me wrong, the queen is indeed a wonderful woman and it's hard not to like her. I just didn't think Atticus was capable of loving anybody."

"Do you reckon it's black magic?"

"Impossible." The slight clinking of wood against metal resounded, most likely from the action of stirring. "Her Highness is incapable of magic, or so multiple sources claim."

"Are the Reawethen royalties not highly gifted in pyromancy?"

"Not their princess."

Jonah's firm answer felt like an arrow was shot straight through Daphne's heart. Even though he was right, it didn't mean it wouldn't hurt.

"Maybe he does need a tonic for his brain after all." Sirona's laughter was light. "Not for an imaginary poison, but for his sudden bout of lovesickness."

Daphne had heard enough. She had actually believed for a second that she had nearly caused the death of the king of Vramid― her own husband. And yet, it hadn't even been hours before she found out everything was just an act and both Sirona and Jonah were both in on it.

How long more were they going to keep it a secret from her? Did they feel no guilt at all watching her panic over his well-being?

And Atticus. Did he think it was all a joke? Was it fun watching her spill tears over his 'poisoning'?

Anger flooded Daphne's veins the more she thought about it. Whatever good feelings and fuzzy emotions she had felt for him immediately dissipated into the air, gone with nothing left. All she could see was red, her hands clenched into fists by her side.

Stepping into the kitchen, two heads whirled around to look at her, shocked to see her entrance. Both Sirona and Jonah looked alarmed with eyes widened and lips slightly parted as they sucked in a bout of air through their teeth.

Fury tainted Daphne's words as she spoke.

"Let's poison him."