"The honor is mine," Daphne demurred with a polite curtsey. What else could she say in response to such a statent?
Sirona and Jonah both flinched, as if they were hit, while bloodlust filled Atticus’s eyes.
It seed to be a polite statent of greeting, but everyone present knew the underlying aning of his words. He had called Daphne a princess, which was her original title, instead of addressing her as Vramid’s queen.
Prince Nathaniel clearly wasn’t giving Daphne’s marriage to Atticus any respect!
"If you’re free tomorrow, I’ll be glad to be your escort." The prince continued. "I had initially planned a tour for you to show you the marvels of my kingdom, but sadly there were unforeseen circumstances."
Said ’unforeseen circumstances’ was glaring daggers at the Crown Prince. Jonah could only hope Atticus didn’t decide to throw punches at him; if he did, there would be no salvaging his reputation.
Eventually, the Crown Prince and his contingent turned and left them alone. The four of them quickly entered Daphne and Atticus’s shared room, and Sirona and Jonah both heaved identical signs of relief.
First diplomatic crisis, averted.
"Well, that went well," Sirona said, storming over to the lounge chair and plopping herself on it like it was hers. Daphne didn’t bother to correct her, rely going to sit on the chair in front of the ornate vanity table.
"No bloodshed, I’ll take this as a win." Jonah agreed. "Atticus, please fix that expression on your face."
"What expression?" Atticus growled out. The look on his face could have curdled milk. Bram had a less terrifying expression on his face when he tried to kill her.
"Stop looking like he owes you a living." Sirona scolded. "We should be thankful he didn’t declare war on Vramid after the stunt you just pulled!"
"He disrespected my marriage to Daphne. You heard him. He even invited her to tour his kingdom with him!" Atticus complained.
"Could you bla him?" Sirona retorted. "You snatched his bride unprovoked. What kind of prince would he be if he just rolled over and accepted it?"
"Forget a prince, no man would be able to swallow that indignity." Jonah chid in. "Seriously, I cannot believe you dared to do this."
Atticus still continued to sulk, while Sirona and Jonah chided him for his behavior.
Daphne rolled her eyes and kept quiet, her thoughts drifting to the man that would have beco her future husband. He seed gentle and soft-spoken at first glance, yet his brief conversation with them proved that he was no weakling or doormat. Daphne felt her interest in him grow.
How different of a life would she have lived if she married him?
"...Daphne? Daphne!"
"Yes?" Daphne was startled as three pairs of eyes stared at her. "Did you say sothing?"
"You’re not allowed to go anywhere with him. He’s not allowed to escort you tomorrow. If he tries to approach you, get him to scram far away!" Atticus ordered hotly, a vein twitching in his temples.
Daphne wondered what made him so upset.
"How do you propose I do that? We can’t offend him. He’s the host who made a perfectly reasonable request," Daphne pointed out. "I see no reason I should not take up his offer and get to know this kingdom while we’re here. They could be our future allies."
"You’re not going to stay here, so what’s the point?" Atticus asked bitterly. "Don’t waste your ti with him. He will never be my ally."
Atticus wasn’t blind to the effect Prince Nathaniel had on won. He noticed, better than anyone, how Daphne’s eyes had focused on him when he first appeared, and the faint blush on her cheeks when she was addressed. What’s more, Daphne was clearly daydreaming about the prince, which was why she wasn’t even paying attention to the conversation.
Jealousy reared its ugly head.
Daphne rely rolled her eyes at Atticus’s temper. "You’re being ridiculous. If it bothers you so much, you might as well co with . Or I’ll bring Sirona."
"You will?" Sirona exclaid, even as Atticus’s face purpled at the very thought. "It’s a good idea. I want to learn more about how they heal their people here."
"See? It’s decided then," Daphne said simply, getting up to go to the bathroom. "Now I’d like to freshen up. We have to look presentable for dinner."
Atticus could only scowl, but he sniffed himself discreetly and frowned.
Fine. He would make the effort to be the most handso man at dinner, the most devoted and loving husband ever so that Daphne wouldn’t think about other n!
***
Atticus had offered his arm to Daphne. They walked into the dinner, arm-in-arm, looking every inch the loving, devoted couple, only for Atticus to curse internally when he realized they had to be separated. n sat at one table, and won sat at the other.
Raxuvians. How backward.
"Alright then," Daphne said agreeably and easily pulled her arm away without any hesitation. It was Atticus who had to force himself to let go of her as she was escorted to her seat. Atticus glared at Nathaniel from the corner of his eye. What was he trying to do?
"Why the long face, King Atticus?" Nathaniel asked cordially. "It’s rely a dinner. I assure you, Princess Daphne will be returned to you after a few hours."
"You’re referring to the queen of Vramid," Atticus growled out. "Kindly change your mode of address."
"My apologies," Prince Nathaniel said with a polite incline of his head. "But is she no longer Reaweth’s princess, simply because she is now a queen? Does a person’s past cease to be, because of your present?"
Atticus’s eyes flashed. This man knew about his past. Prince Nathaniel rely dabbed at his lips with his napkin.
The man on the Crown Prince’s other side laughed gaily, easily cutting through the tension between the two n. He was Xahan’s king, Calarian Mikhail. He was clearly older than Atticus and Nathaniel, for there were streaks of gray in his dark brown hair and stubble on his lower jaw. Yet there was still a sharp streak of intelligence in his blue eyes as he quickly defused the situation.
"Co on now, gentlen, why must we debate such dodgy philosophical questions during dinner? Have a seat and so wine, King Atticus. It’s not good to be hungry and angry."
Atticus reluctantly took his seat, but not before giving Daphne one last longing look. At least that golden-haired dolt wasn’t sitting next to Daphne; no, that honor was given to Atticus. Instead, Daphne was seated with another woman he didn’t recognize. Daphne seed to feel his gaze, for she turned around to et his eyes.
Atticus inclined his head in the new woman’s direction, a wordless question. He couldn’t help but worry that there would be a repeat of the incident with Cordelia. But Daphne responded with a gentle smile to reassure him, before turning back to converse with that woman.
So hopefully things were fine.
"Ah, newlyweds. I rember how nice it was to be young and in love." Calarian shook his head wistfully. "Even the most fleeting separation feels like an eternity."
"It’s incredible how you are in love with a woman you hadn’t t," Nathaniel added with narrowed eyes, "So much so that you kidnapped her before her wedding day."
"What can I say? I’m a man of action," Atticus said, not refuting the first part of his statent. They traded stony glances as they sipped their wine, his gaze often turning to look at Daphne, who for so reason, seed increasingly vexed.
Atticus frowned.
"Why do you look so worried?" Calarian asked when he realized who Atticus was looking at. "Your wife is just talking to her sister."
"Her sister?" Atticus narrowed his eyes. The sa woman that gave Daphne that useless necklace?
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