Stolen by the Rebel King Chapter 570: Spread His Wings

"That’s an invasion of her privacy," Jonah scolded, his face flaming red. "Don’t you dare."

"She wants you to invade her bedchambers― you must be blind if you cannot sense her intentions," Atticus retorted. "This woman has no magic but she was willing to make an enemy out of , the most fearso man in the world if it ant she could snatch you from . I’m almost impressed by her audacity. If she were a man, I’d demand a duel."

"What am I, so toy for you children to fight over? And you have an awfully high opinion of yourself," Jonah said, choosing to focus on Atticus’s description of himself because he could not bear to listen to the other points he was making.

Jonah felt feverish all over, as though soone had thrown him over a fire pit and raked him over the coals.

Suddenly, the image of Cordelia leaning over him ca to mind. If she threw him into the fire pit, she would turn him over gently. Since the months they spent together, she had always treated him with care and consideration. Jonah’s face ward further at the mories.

Atticus shook his head, disgusted.

"Your mind is already filled with thoughts about her. It’s too late for to save you now," Atticus complained. "If I dragged you back to Vramid with , you’d mope and sigh and stare outside the window in Nedour’s direction, all miserable― and then Daphne would make send you back here anyway."

"I would not," Jonah said instinctively, but Atticus knew he was rely replying to be contrary on purpose. His heart wasn’t in it― it was back in Nedour’s castle, cradled between Cordelia’s hands. If she crushed it, Atticus would raze Nedour to the ground.

"You would, you lovesick man. If you didn’t want things to develop in this direction, you should have just stayed in Vramid. See what happens when you leave my borders? You fall in love with the one woman who isn’t scared of ― well, except for Daphne, I guess. And Sirona. But still!"

Jonah sucked in a deep breath and canted his eyes heavenward as if looking for divine blessings from the clouds. Unfortunately for him, the sky was cloudless and sunny.

"What am I going to do?" Jonah asked, half-anguished, half-hopeful. "Even if she picks — a very big if, dare I say―"

Here, Atticus let out a scoff so loud that the seabirds turned their heads, thinking that one of their brethren had choked on an errant slug, but of course Jonah ignored it, the sa way he could ignore Cordelia’s feelings for him.

"―how can I possibly be the king of Nedour?" Jonah held his head in his hands and he let out a weary groan. "I’m not a noble, I’m not even from her kingdom! Marrying would damage her standing among other royals―"

Atticus rolled his eyes at Jonah’s dramatics. "If you don’t marry her, Cordelia will raise your child out of wedlock. That’ll be more scandalous than having you for a husband."

Jonah wheezed at the implications. "Child! Wedlock!"

"I have no doubts she would tie you up to the bed to have her wicked way with you," Atticus said with a pained expression on his face as he thought about it. "Urgh, the ntal images. But distasteful as it is, I cannot fault her depth of emotion for you. Jonah, you deserve soone that would move mountains for you. taphorically anyway. Since I’m the only one that can do it literally."

"Thanks, I think," Jonah said, still winded by the realization.

"Go on, be happy as her king." Atticus clasped Jonah’s shoulder tightly, a shuddery exhale escaping his lips. He had teased and bullied Jonah about Cordelia, but deep down, the one who needed a pep talk was him.

His best friend was no longer going to be a shadow by his side for the rest of his life. Jonah had all but grown up now, and their lives were soon going in different directions. He blinked quickly and swallowed the lump in his throat. This was ridiculous. He wasn’t going to weep over this like so idiot.

He cleared his throat loudly, trying to sound normal. "And if you find her truly insufferable after the brush of love has left you, just let know. I have magic. I can fly back and steal you away― and I won’t even say I told you so," Atticus promised. "I’ll even let myself get slandered by the masses on your behalf. Aren’t you touched?"

Jonah raised his head, his eyes watery.

"Co on, don’t cry over this!" Atticus demanded.

"Your eyes are wet too! Idiot!" Jonah exclaid, hastily scrubbing at his eyes. "But fine, I’ll let you know if things get dire. But naming our children after you is out of the question."

"Why not?" Atticus asked, aggrieved. "Atticus is an imposing na. It’ll strike fear in the hearts of people."

"Do you want my kid to be bullied? They’re gonna call him Attic or Cuss for years, just like they did to you." Jonah shook his head.

"They are fools now―"

"Ridiculous―"

Jonah and Atticus continued to bicker all the way until they arrived at the Argyle estate, where Atticus decided it was ti to make a grand entrance by creating a column of fire to herald their entrance.

Screams soon filled the air, as residents of the estate assud rightfully there was a fire. People began streaming out into the open, only to scream louder when they caught sight of Atticus and Jonah, and the large column of controlled fire blooming from Atticus’s bare hands.

Jonah stared at him with dead eyes. "Put that out before you endanger the wildlife. I don’t want the horses to inhale the smoke."

"Wow, you’re not married to her yet but you’re already ordering around," Atticus grumbled. "Your future wife gave permission to terrorize them. Are you going to go against her orders already?"

"You―" Jonah’s face reddened again. "This is not― Atticus!"

"What is the aning of this!" One old man shrieked out. From the way he was dressed in brocade from head to toe, supported by multiple servants as he was carried out into the courtyard, he was clearly the patriarch of the Argyle family.

"Well, do you want the good news or bad news?" Atticus asked cheerily.

Everyone stared at him, dumbfounded, while Jonah groaned quietly. Yet, he could not stop the small smile that threatened to bloom on his face. It was nice to spend ti again with Atticus, without the fate of the world on their shoulders.

"I... what are you doing here?" The man demanded, "Get out of my premises at once!"

"We’re not technically in your premises," Jonah said, pointing out that their horses had stopped outside the gate. "This is technically Nedour’s land we’re standing on."

"Exactly!" Atticus agreed smugly. "And I guess you want the bad news first then― Lord Argyle, you and your household are being investigated for treason!"

To punctuate his statent, Atticus sent a bigger fla into the air, delighting in the way the old man fell to the floor.