Stolen by the Rebel King-Chapter 521: Mend A Broken Bridge

Daphne’s heart skipped a beat as she breathed in sharply through her nose. It had been many long months since they had been intimate. Ever since...

She bit her lip and looked away.

They hadn’t touched more than pecks on the cheek and lingering grazes of the skin ever since her miscarriage. She still hadn’t forgiven him completely for lying to her, and at the same time, she had also reiterated to him over and over again that it was alright. To Atticus’s credit, he had also made his amends.

But it wasn’t the same. It could never be the same. Even though her rational mind knew that it was for the best to put everything behind them and move on, Daphne couldn’t. Her mind — however rational it had become in the last months of becoming queen — was still irrationally emotional. There was always something missing between them.

A spark, perhaps. But the way they touched, innocent and virtuous, still rose a fire across her skin each and every time. Why, then, did she have this emotional blockade preventing her from moving forward?

Atticus’s eyes were pools of liquid honey, glued onto her every movement. One of his hands left her waist, using his finger to turn her face back so that their gazes would meet once more.

Heat rose in Daphne’s cheeks at their close proximity.

"I’m your wife. If I don’t make bets at your expense, what else would I do with you?" Daphne retorted, her tongue desperately trying to bring her to safer waters.

"I could think of many things," Atticus’s voice lowered as he murmured into her ear, causing a frenzy of butterflies to erupt in her belly.

But just as quickly as they appeared, said butterflies curled up and died. It was hard for her to fully lean into Atticus’s embrace and enjoy his touches, for the ghost of their deceased child continued to linger between them, a barrier she did not know how to breach, if she even wanted to breach it. Daphne’s hands hovered awkwardly over Atticus’s body, the space between them as wide as a canyon and twice as deep.

As though Atticus could detect the sudden change in her emotions, he quickly moved away to give her more room for her to gather herself. She was very grateful that he respected her personal space. Atticus then changed the subject.

"But sure, let’s start with the bets," Atticus said with deliberate flippantness. "How much will Sirona earn if I call Jonah, and will I be privy to a cut of the winnings? I think it’s only fair."

"You’re the king of Vramid," Daphne scolded in amusement. "It is beneath you to demand money from Sirona when you pay her wages. You are wealthier than her in every way."

"And those wages are mightily high!" Atticus protested. "She is practically earning two people’s worth of monthly wage now that Jonah is gone!"

Atticus then gnashed his teeth loudly, upset. He was shocked that Jonah’s name actually escaped his mouth. Daphne tried very hard not to roll his eyes from this display of childishness from her husband. She barely managed.

"I guess you don’t want to know what I just heard from Cordelia’s letters then," Daphne said with a theatrical sigh. "Both of them went sailing a while back. Jonah fell off a boat," she added, watching as her husband twitched in barely concealed worry.

"He could swim, so he was perfectly unharmed. Cordelia also included a long paragraph of how she liked his muscles in his wet shirt, so I have a feeling she did it on purpose," Daphne said, her lips curving into a smile as she recalled Cordelia waxing poetic about Jonah’s body. She had to skip the last few lines, for they bordered on pornographic.

Jonah was going to be eaten alive eventually.

"That woman was trying to kill him!" Atticus seethed. "I knew it, she was going to drown him and then chop him up to serve for dinner!"

"Jonah seems to be a very willing participant," Daphne said.

"How would you know?" Atticus demanded. frёewebnoѵēl.com

"He left a nice little note for me in Cordelia’s letters," Daphne replied cheerfully, as she watched her husband actively pretend he wasn’t jealous.

"He wrote to you?" Atticus was a king, so he didn’t whine, but his words sounded awfully close to it. "Then why―"

Why didn’t Jonah write to him?

"Because Jonah knows I want to hear from him. Meanwhile Jonah might not know you want to talk to him," Daphne said, as she couldn’t resist needling her husband further. "After all, you have all but prevented everyone in the palace from mentioning him out loud. His own guards have been calling him the Runaway Knight, or the Princess Lover."

Those were the nicer names they called him. The rest didn’t bear thinking about; all of them casted insults about his character, claiming him a disloyal traitor who seduced royalty to get ahead.

Atticus chewed the inside of his mouth irritably, knowing full well what Daphne was not saying. He didn’t want Jonah’s people to be calling him such disrespectful names, even if Atticus himself had thought of those monikers too. They weren’t his friends.

Atticus was. And the more he thought about how Cordelia had sullied Jonah’s reputation for her own benefit, the angrier he got.

That’s right. He was upset at the wrong person all this while! It wasn’t Jonah’s fault he was a sucker for a beautiful face and he had trouble saying no to helping people. Atticus knew that for years. That was how he had gotten Jonah as his right-hand man to begin with.

Atticus clenched his fist, a light dawning in his eyes. He would write to Jonah later and demand he come home. Jonah hadn’t renounced his vows to Atticus; Atticus was effectively still his king!

This nonsense had gone on for long enough. If Jonah agreed to come back, Atticus wouldn’t even bring it up in an argument for the next five years. Jonah should be delighted to return. He would never get a better deal than this.

"It almost makes me feel that he’s your deceased first love," Daphne added with a wistful sigh as she caught sight of the tumultuous emotions on her husband’s face.

This was working out better than she expected. Sirona would be pleased. Maybe she would even agree to split a portion of her earnings with Daphne.

She said, "I should stop getting in the way of both of you."

"What? Wait― Daphne! Wait!"

"Goodnight," Daphne replied drolly, waving a hand as she walked away to her own rooms, a smirk forming on her face.

With the way things were going, she was going to get a very nice summer holiday in Nedour very soon.