Stolen by the Rebel King-Chapter 517: Liquid Courage I

It felt like there was a small bit of light that had sparked in Daphne’s mind after that. She felt her heart rise and fall along with the things that Jonah mentioned, and eventually when the entire story was painted and she saw the scars and blisters of his past that Atticus had tried so hard to keep hidden, she felt at peace with herself.

For the first time in a very long while, Daphne finally knew what she had to do.

"Don’t be too hard on him," Jonah said with a small remorseful smile. "I know he hasn’t been the best husband. Hell, even if he doesn’t admit it himself, I am sure Atticus knows that too. He’s trying to make amends for the wrongs he did. But you’ll also have to understand, Daphne, that he has his reasons for doing certain things."

This time, it was a genuine smile that quirked his lips a little.

"Only certain. Most others might’ve been just bad decisions on his part," he added jokingly. "Sorry that I couldn’t stop most of them. I did my best to stem the worst of it."

Daphne nodded, and this time, she laughed along with Jonah.

"I can only guess that he will be making a lot more bad decisions without you around to watch over him," she said.

Jonah merely shrugged. "I can’t do that forever," he said. "I’m sure he knows that too. Have a little more faith in him; at least one of you two will need to have that. In fact, you might need to have enough faith for both of us, now that I’ll be gone."

In the end, Atticus did not show up at all despite the time Daphne and Jonah spent sharing some final words. Jonah cast the palace a final somber smile before he exhaled loudly. He shook his head and turned on his heel, waving Daphne goodbye from over his shoulder.

Daphne watched through the closing palace gates as Jonah disappeared down the road and into the dark. He had only taken a horse and some small supplies, stating that he would be more than happy to scavenge through nature for the rest of whatever he required. Furthermore, Atticus had left him a wonderful amount of money after years of working for the palace.

Even though Jonah was a capable man and an even more capable fighter, Daphne couldn’t help but worry. Yet, paranoid as she was, there was nothing else she could do but wish him the best on his journey.

It was only after Jonah had completely disappeared from view did she retreat back into the palace. Her feet brought her back into the corridors of the inner palace, headed straight for Atticus’s chambers.

Taking a deep breath, Daphne waited in front of his — or more accurately, their — bedroom door before she knocked. She could hear some shuffling inside, a clear sign that he was definitely in the room. However, Atticus did not open the door despite the minute that passed.

Daphne frowned. It was still early. There was no way Atticus would already be asleep, would there? Furthermore, he had always been a light sleeper. She didn’t believe that he would’ve missed the knock.

"Atticus?" she called out. "Are you in there?"

This time, the noises that came from inside were a little louder. Daphne could vaguely hear the sound of footsteps before eventually, the lock clicked open and so did the door. Atticus’s head poked out, and when their eyes met, Daphne could only see an empty blank written across his eyes. One whiff and she could smell the stench of alcohol hanging off him.

"You’ve been drinking," she said, wrinkling her nose. Speaking of bad decisions, Atticus was already making one the moment Jonah left the palace.

Atticus said nothing, simply leaving the door ajar as he retreated further into the room. Daphne took that as a sign to enter, and enter she did. She stepped in, closing the door behind her. Instantly, the smell that filled her nose caused her to frown.

There were bottles upon bottles of alcohol littered all over the bedroom. Some of them were strewn in far corners, others were kept on the tables and drawers. There were so many that Daphne could no longer keep count of how many Atticus had gone through. Thus, she deduced that this couldn’t have been the work of just one day.

She hadn’t set foot into their once-shared bedroom ever since they had returned to Vramid. Thus, these bottles could’ve been here ever since they had been back for all she knew.

Additionally, Daphne couldn’t help but notice that Atticus seemed a little... different. All the other times he had been drunk, he had acted so clingy. This time, he simply returned to the couch, his linen blouse wide open at the chest, arm hanging against the backrest, and his hands swirling a glass of wine mindlessly.

There was a blank look in Atticus’s eyes as he stared at the burgundy liquid, completely ignoring the fact that Daphne stood just a couple of feet away from him. If it were any other day, he would’ve been all over her.

Admittedly, Daphne wasn’t used to this sort of coldness coming from Atticus. Even while they were fighting, he had time and time again shown her slivers of affection. Perhaps this time it was her turn to back down from a fight first― not that they were fighting, though their previous disagreement had yet to be properly concluded.

She tucked her hair behind her ear and made her way over, stopping only when she was right next to the armchair Atticus was strewn over. Leaning down, she plucked the glass of wine out of his hands and chugged the contents without another thought. The alcohol scorched her throat on the way down, but Daphne merely squeezed her eyes shut and gulped.

When she looked back down at Atticus, she was surprised to see him staring right up at her, his eyes slightly wider and lips just a tad bit ajar.

"Finally, some reaction," she murmured under her breath.

This wasn’t good. Just one small drink and she could feel her body shaky and her mind buzzing. Her alcohol tolerance was by no means high, but she didn’t think she was that weak either. Even her words were a little slurred.

"You shouldn’t have done that," Atticus commented with a frown. He got to his feet, peeling the glass from her fingers before placing it on the table at the side. "That’s a very potent drink that you just finished in one breath."

"Oh really?" Daphne sarcastically said, "I couldn’t tell."

Atticus’s lips were pursed as he took a step closer. This time, emboldened by the liquid courage she had just chugged, Daphne did not take a step back. Her gaze fell upon his lips before crawling up to his eyes, greeting the golden orbs that were staring down piercingly at her.

"What do you want from me, Daphne?" Atticus questioned, his voice no higher than a murmur. "Why are you here?"