A gust of pride overwheld Atticus. He raised a hand, tucking a stray strand of hair behind Daphne’s ear. Now, he could see her full face, unhindered. Gently, he ran his thumb under her eyes as well to wipe the remainder of her tears away.
"That would be more than easy," Atticus breezily replied. "I can have her killed right now if that’s what you wish."
"Atticus!" Daphne exclaid, horrified. "You can’t just kill her off like that. She is a respected mber of society. If she’s arrested just like that, what will the townsfolk say of you?"
Her husband rely scoffed, dotingly ruffling the top of her head. "Sunshine, they already think I am a tyrant. Them, and every other citizen of every other kingdom. There’s a reason why those rumors are floating around, you know."
mories of their wedding night flashed through her mind. Those rumors definitely were true but only to so extent.
From what Daphne had observed during her stay here, Atticus was a remarkable king and an extraordinary husband. She had seen him slog endless nights away in his office, coming up with new plans and sches to better the lives of his people. Despite his bloodied reputation, none of that was ever used against the innocent― only those who deserved it would face his wrath.
And as a husband... Atticus was a gentle soul. She had never felt so cared for and loved in her entire life. Although the bar was in hell, it was still a jarringly huge improvent.
"No, that’s not right." She shook her head. "I don’t want your citizens to think you’re being led blind by love or anything of that sort. It will only cause them to revolt eventually."
Atticus’s gaze darkened. "They wouldn’t dare."
"Besides," Daphne continued, "death would be too easy an escape for that woman." A fiery storm brewed within her eyes, Daphne’s emotions ablaze. "She ought to have her na ruined as she tried to ruin mine. Why would I let her off so easily?"
Atticus thought that he might just start crying! Daphne was finally growing up and seeing the world for what it was.
"Sunshine..." he trailed off.
Realizing her expression had been harsher than it should’ve been, Daphne quickly collected her emotions. She regulated her countenance, her eyebrows knitted tightly. "Am I too harsh?"
"Not at all!" Atticus quickly assured. "I am just so proud of you. Not everyone deserves to be treated with kindness. The sooner you see that, the sooner things will look up for you."
From the bed, Zephyr chirped loudly in agreent.
"I would rather not resort to violence," Daphne responded truthfully. "But through the kidnappings, and then Drusilla at the Crowned Conquest... I see now that there are tis when these things cannot be avoided. If Francessa Seibert wishes to play dirty, I am happy to join the ga. However, I am playing by my rules, not hers."
"There is sothing that you might be happy to learn, in that case," Atticus gleefully said. "While you were at the Spring Parade, I’ve arrested one of the culprits behind the gem smuggling. Do you still rember the toys from the Yuletide Festival?"
Daphne nodded. She still had one kept in a corner of her room, tucked safely away as a treasured mory of their first date. "Yes," she said. Her voice turned hesitant. "It’s not... Eugene... Is it?"
"We didn’t manage to capture Jean Nott himself," Atticus clarified. "But one of his n apparently had so underground dealings with a rchant in the slums." Daphne visibly recoiled at the ntion of the location but kept her silence as Atticus spoke. "They’re in the dungeons right now. Jonah is questioning them as we speak."
***
"Wake up."
A pail of cold water drenched Lucien Seibert from head to toe, causing him to snap awake with shivers. Like a jolt of electricity, the frigid water splashed across his face, instantly dispelling the drowsy veil of sleep. Every nerve sprang to life as his eyes flew open, wide and startled. To pair with it, the stone beneath his skin was also freezing, further adding to his discomfort.
His eyes scanned his surroundings as he held a hand to his head, wincing at the way it throbbed with pain. Benjamin Killiney had been moved away, it seed. The chubby man was nowhere to be seen and the king was also gone.
Lucien Seibert wondered for a second if that ant that Benjamin Killiney had t his demise.
"Killiney isn’t dead. Yet."
Lucien’s eyes snapped up to et Jonah’s gaze. Surprise was clearly written across his eyes― the head of the royal cavalry had so accurately guessed his thoughts as though it was written across his face, plain as day.
Noting his expression, Jonah raised an eyebrow. "Disappointed?"
"Of course not," Lucien Seibert instantly replied. Even without the blue kyanite in his system, Lucien would’ve voiced his thoughts. "If he was dead, I would be next."
Jonah scoffed. "Who said you wouldn’t be first?"
Unlike Atticus, Jonah did not see a need to use magic. Blue kyanite would be very useful in squeezing information out of the prisoners but he never saw a point in using magic beyond that. It was always so much more fun to use a sword, to feel the criminal’s skin tear beneath his blade.
"Now that you’re awake, let’s get back to work. I am late for breakfast and I am starving." Jonah sighed heavily, pulling out his sword and pointing it in Lucien’s direction. "Who is the supplier of the gemstones? Or, in other words, who is the one you’re so desperately trying to protect?"
Even a second’s worth of resistance caused the prick of a thousand needles to scorch through Lucien’s skin. He grunted in excruciating pain, curling over onto the ground. His fists were clenched together so tightly that his knuckles had turned white. Even his lip had drawn blood from how hard he bit onto it.
Each mont Lucien Seibert stalled rely intensified his agony. Soon enough, he could feel the agony carved into his bones, burning him from the inside out. It felt like soone had peeled off his skin layer by layer before pouring salt onto every wound on his body. Even his blood felt as though it was replaced by magma.
Unable to withhold himself, Lucien spat out a mouthful of blood. It was a dark red, unlike the usual scarlet, its color evidence of the blue kyanite working in his body.
"Even if you die, there will be thods to revive you again and again until you tell the truth," Jonah reminded. "Necromancy isn’t a re fairytale, you know."
"My... My..." Lucien stuttered, finally bending to the magic.
Honestly, Jonah applauded this man’s resolve.
"It’s..." Lucien stamred. "It’s... It’s my... wife."
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