Stolen by the Rebel King-Chapter 504: Awfully Red I

Cordelia smoothed down her skirts, her hand running across the lace that framed her bosom.

"Is there something wrong with my dress, Sir Jonah?" she asked teasingly, loving the way he averted his gaze at her movements.

Men. Such simple creatures they were.

"Vramid’s weather can get a little cold at night," Jonah said. "I am simply worried that Your Highness might not be adjusted to the weather of our kingdom."

In contrast to her revealing outfit, Jonah was buttoned up nicely. He wore a coat over his uniform, and a sword was hooked to his side.

"Nonsense," Cordelia said with a wave of her hand. The coral bracelet she had on clinked harmoniously as she moved, acting like little bells were strung on her wrist. "In that case, we will simply have to be back before the sun sets, won’t we? That is a problem simply solved."

Jonah pursed his lips. "Very well, then, Your Highness."

He held the door of the carriage open, bowing a little as he waited for Cordelia to board before following behind her. They sat opposite each other, with Jonah’s back rigidly straight while Cordelia leaned against her arm, keeping her eyes trained on him at all times.

Sir Jonah was a handsome man, she realized. Before recent days, she had never stopped to examine the man who was dubbed as the tyrant king’s blade. He had always been a faceless soldier in Cordelia’s memory, and for as long as she could remember, she recalled nothing about this man despite hearing his name alongside King Atticus’s numerous times.

Yet, she oddly found herself drawn to him in recent times. Cordelia realized with increasing certainty that Sir Jonah was an awfully traditional man. He was a walking textbook if Cordelia had ever seen one, the exact opposite of what men were like in Nedour. Yet, that was exactly what made him so attractive in her eyes.

It was perhaps his innocence that drew Cordelia’s attention, but whatever it was, she found him more and more intriguing the more she studied him. He was a refreshing breath of air.

"Where are we headed today, Sir Jonah?" Cordelia asked as she folded one leg across the other, lightly kicking it so that the tip of her heel would graze his trousers.

Jonah flinched a little when he felt the fabric of his pants move.

"The town neighboring the capital is having a festival in celebration of the king’s return," Jonah said, clearing his throat. They will be having festivities for the entire month, and the merchants have set up an array of activities, goods, and foods for visitors to try. Perhaps you would enjoy such an event."

"Was it King Atticus’s idea, Sir Jonah?" Cordelia asked curiously. "I might just think that he’s finding an excuse to send me away if that’s the case."

"No, Your Highness," Jonah answered. "It was mine. I thought it might interest you more than the capital since nothing much is happening around these parts. There has been some... unrest due to your arrival as well. King Atticus and I thought it might be safer for you to explore a location where your identity as the princess of Nedour wouldn’t be widespread knowledge."

Cordelia sat a little straighter.

"Oh," she said.

So that was why he asked her to change. It might be due to the cold, but it was also to protect her from possible harm. Her choice of clothing was far from what ordinary Vramidians would wear, nobility or not, and she would no doubt stand out like a sore thumb in a crowd of people. Anyone would be able to tell that she was a foreigner.

Her tongue darted out to wet her lips before she spoke again.

"Will the journey take long?"

"Usually," Jonah said. "But King Atticus charmed the carriage. It will take no more than two hours to reach Frostholm."

Now that he mentioned it, Cordelia realized that the scenery outside their window seemed to be whizzing by at insanely high speeds. She couldn’t feel the difference inside the vehicle, but looking out, it was much more obvious that they were traveling faster than an average carriage.

A sore bitterness rose in her heart, though she quickly stamped it down. How wonderful it must be to be able to use magic like so. It would save so much time.

The rest of the carriage went by without much chatter. Cordelia’s eyes were utterly fixated on the scenery outside, watching in awe as buildings and forestry alike flew by them. As promised, it took only about two hours for them to reach the town.

However, unlike how Jonah described it earlier on in the journey, Frostholm seemed to be brimming with life. Cordelia had expected a small, quiet town, yet it seemed like everyone had been packed here just for the celebrations.

It was indeed much colder here than in the capital, for some reason. The sun was still high in the sky, and since the carriage had slowed down for safety reasons, she rolled down the window to allow some fresh air in.

Surprisingly, the gust of wind that rushed in was chilly, nipping at her nose. Cordelia instantly shivered before rolling the windows back up.

The carriage rolled to a stop in a safe corner right outside a shopping street, and Jonah headed out first. He stood by the steps, holding his hand out for Cordelia to take, which she did gratefully. When their hands touched, Cordelia’s fingers felt as though they were held over a fire. She quickly retracted her hand once she was safely on the ground, staring at the pads of her fingers.

’What was that feeling?’ she wondered. Her thoughts, however, were quickly broken when a warm sensation quickly enveloped her shoulders.

Cordelia looked up in surprise, just in time to see the green cape now resting around her shoulders when it was once on Jonah. He took a step back, creating some polite distance between them after helping her wear his coat.

The fabric still smelled faintly like him. For some odd reason, Cordelia felt her face heating up.

"Is there something wrong, Your Highness?" Jonah asked, tilting his head to one side. "Your face is awfully red."