Stolen by the Rebel King-Chapter 21: Do Me Up

Piece of junk…

Daphne's heart dropped as his words reverberated in her mind.

"How could this be? You must be lying." Daphne shook her head furiously.

"What reason do I have to lie to you?" Atticus pointed out. "If anything, I'd keep you powerless and ignorant. That'll make it easier to control and imprison you."

"Thank you for that consideration," Daphne replied, slightly appeased. "Could it be that clear quartz just wasn't the right stone for me?"

"Perhaps. I wouldn't know. The pendant wasn't made of clear quartz, to begin with." 𝐛𝐞𝐝𝐧𝗼𝘃𝐞𝐥．𝗰𝐨𝗺

Daphne's mouth fell open.

"Sorry to tell you this, sunshine," Atticus said, looking slightly pitying at her. "You were slinging around that bit of glass like it was a prized possession. You would have done more damage waving a stick."

"Glass?" Daphne repeated dumbly. "Then my sister…"

Her mind swirled at this new information. It would mean that Drusilla had gotten her something useless on purpose.

No, that couldn't be.

There was no way Drusilla would have done this to her. They may be half-sisters but she had always been the sister closest to her, and whenever someone insulted Daphne's lack of magical aptitude, Drusilla would immediately defend her, pointing out her other strengths.

Drusilla must have been taken advantage of by a swindler. Daphne nodded firmly to herself. Drusilla and Maisie were a lot alike, and it was entirely possible that a con man sold Drusilla a fake necklace, claiming that it would save Daphne's life.

"Someone really wanted you to remain useless," Atticus said. "Are you sure you can trust your sister?"

"Nonsense, my sister would never harm me. She must have been hoodwinked. Don't try to sour our relationship!" Daphne declared imperiously, even as her mind scolded Drusilla for not checking.

Daphne was her sister. Why didn't she care enough to make sure the necklace worked?

If the situation had been flipped, Daphne would have never given her a spoilt gift.

Atticus raised his hands, a smirk on his face. "Hey, don't shoot the messenger. As it stands, your sister gave you a useless necklace, and your family never discovered your latent magical ability, yet they made you feel like a failure for their mistakes. If I were you, I'd be furious."

"I'm fine," Daphne said. "That's not important. They're my family. I can't be angry at them. It's fine."

"Funnily enough, I'd think being family is all the more reason to be angrier." Atticus mused, a faraway look in his eyes. "Strangers don't owe you a thing, but family does. They owed it to you to cherish you, to nurture you, to love you."

Daphne sucked in a deep breath. His words struck a chord in her, and she had to blink back tears that formed in her eyes.

She had never felt so seen, so acknowledged than at that moment… and it had to be by a man who kidnapped her. Not her siblings, not her parents, not her fiance. What a travesty.

"It's fine," Daphne repeated, now sounding more choked up than before. She had to change the topic before she burst into tears in front of him. "Now, can you test me for magic? Oh wait, I have to fast for a day first. And cleanse myself… Do you have a lake?"

Atticus stared at her blankly as though Daphne started neighing like Sable.

"...I'm guessing Vramid does things differently," Daphne said, after an awkward pause.

"Reawethens." Atticus rolled his eyes and grumbled. "What nonsense are they coming up with now? Next thing you know, they'll be making the next generation of kings walk naked through their capital."

"It's spiritual!" Daphne squawked. "You're supposed to rid yourself of earthly attachments!"

"It's hogwash," Atticus retorted. "We're testing for magic aptitude, not trying to fit you into last season's ball gowns. Go and starve yourself if you want, but don't blame me if there's no result."

Daphne fell into sulky silence.

Atticus was torn between the sudden urge to pinch those cheeks of hers or cuddle her until her frown vanished. No, that would be foolish. She was a prisoner, a chess piece. Not his companion.

"Alright. What should I do then? Walk out into the snow?" Daphne asked, curious as to what rituals Vramid had.

"You have to find a bear, and wrestle it," Atticus said seriously.

Daphne was just about to panic, but then she caught the tell-tale glint of mischief in his eyes.

"Liar! If you don't want to help me, don't waste my time!" She smacked his arm, upset at how he was treating it like a joke. Her blow barely landed, but Atticus pretended to be grievously wounded. She stormed off, only for Atticus to chase after her and pull on her arm.

"My apologies, sunshine. You make it too easy to tease you," Atticus said, and he actually sounded apologetic. "But there's no set ritual in Vramid. I'll just hand you certain stones found in the toys, and you'll hold them."

"That's it?"

"Well. The toys are in my office." Atticus gave her a roguish smirk. "If you can accept spending time alone with me in such an intimate setting…"

"Let's just go," Daphne said primly, excitement radiating through her. She was finally going to find out her true abilities!

Atticus led her easily to his office, pushing the door open.

There was not much light in there with the curtains down. Only a slight sliver of the setting sun's light slipped into the room, illuminating whatever was on Atticus's desk. Stones of all shapes and colors were scattered across his desk, freeform crystals that weren't polished nor properly handled yet.

The king smiled sheepishly. "Pardon the mess," he said, scratching the back of his neck. "I've been a little busy."

"Is this where you've been disappearing to?" Daphne looked around, walking towards the table.

She picked up a random stone on the desk― aquamarine, she guessed. The beautiful pale blue looked just like the tides of the ocean. On her palm, the stone was cool to the touch. She couldn't help but be entranced by it.

"Maybe." Atticus's reply was purposely vague. "That's not the point."

His long strides quickly brought him across the room. He gestured to the couch. Daphne's line of sight trailed after where Atticus pointed, where she found a beautiful gown laid over the couch's backrest. The fabric was red, detailed with gold embroidery that almost shimmered even under the soft lighting.

Daphne couldn't help but gasp in awe.

"Get dressed," Atticus instructed.

"With you still here?" Daphne asked, eyeing him warily. There was a folding screen in the room, but it still made her uneasy.

Atticus rolled his eyes. "Don't flatter yourself, sunshine. If I wanted you naked, I wouldn't go through this much trouble."

Daphne scowled, quickly picked up the dress, and walked over to the folding screen. It was soft and silky, and she couldn't help but run an appreciative hand across the fabric, admiring how the light highlighted the gold embroidery.

"Are you done?" Atticus asked, just because he knew it would annoy her.

"Can you just wait?" Daphne retorted. Unknown to her, Atticus smirked at her peevish reply.

Daphne hurriedly slipped out of her old outfit and stepped into the new dress. Yet, when she got to the corset, she stopped short. She couldn't possibly lace it up on her own! But the only person available was…

"Uh… Atticus?" Daphne reluctantly called out, peeking out from the screen. "I might require your assistance."

Atticus, who was preoccupied with staring intensely at the box in his hand, jumped a little when he heard her voice. He snapped the box shut and shoved it into the drawer of his desk, clearing his throat. He then made his way over, frowning.

"What is it?"

"Could you call Maisie over?"

"Why? I'm sure she's busy." Atticus raised an eyebrow. "Is it that hard to put on a dress? "

Daphne breathed deeply, reminding herself to be calm.

"I need help with my dress," she said evenly, spinning around. She pulled her hair to the front, showing Atticus the loose laces of her corset.

"No offense, sunshine, but I don't exactly trust your little maid yet." Atticus folded his arms across his chest. "I can't let her into the room filled with possibly smuggled crystals that could be potentially dangerous in the hands of the wrong people."

Her face felt hot when she squeezed her next words out. "If you're so confident about this, then you can help me do up my laces."