Stolen by the Rebel King-Chapter 69: Cold, Dark, and Empty

Atticus nodded, and their party of four made the way to the dungeons. Atticus offered his arm out for support, and he was disappointed that Daphne did not take it. But at least she had also not smacked it away.

Small mercies.

Jonah turned over to Atticus and whispered under his breath. "Are you planning on ever letting him out?"

The king offered him a death glare. "And what? Would you like to take his place in the dungeons instead?"

That immediately shut Jonah up.

They arrived at the dungeons with much effort. Again, Daphne was greeted by the smell of mold and the sewers, the dampness in the walls causing the air to grow musty. She was used to it, for the most part, but there was a strange coppery scent mixed in this time.

Daphne was still in the midst of recovery and had refused anyone’s assistance. At first, she had asked for Maisie to be called over but the maid was nowhere to be found. In the end, she could only hobble her way down the steps, her hand leaning against the wall for support but her back still straight with pride.

However, when they finally stopped in front of the cell that Eugene was supposed to be in, Daphne’s jaw dropped in shock. All that bargaining, all that fighting, and she was only to be greeted by an empty cell.

"...What is the meaning of this? Did you send him somewhere else?" Daphne asked with narrowed eyes. Was this Atticus’s plan all along? To have her agree to accompany him only to blindside her and not hold up his end of the bargain.

"I should be asking you this question!" Atticus demanded angrily. "After all, you’re the one that wanted him out!"

Atticus stomped over to the bars of the cell, looking in for a brief second. His expression turned dark as he gestured inside.

"Tell me how did this man leave?!"

"How am I supposed to know?" Daphne shot the question back. "In case you failed to recall, I’ve been locked in my room with guards posted outside my door!"

"Then how did you end up in the kitchens today?" Atticus asked, an angry growl escaping his throat. "You clearly had ways to get past the guards. Who knows where else you could have gone before you even showed up in the kitchens?"

Daphne’s eyes widened in anger. The skin between her eyebrows furrowed as she gaped at Atticus, her voice loud with indignation.

"Are you insinuating that I was the one that let him out?"

"I don’t know," Atticus seethed, "you tell me."

"Woah, wait, calm down," Jonah said, stepping in between the two of them. Atticus and Daphne had unknowingly stepped closer to each other, their noses nearly pressed together, not in a bout of love and chemistry, but due to unrivaled rage. "We should not be playing the blaming game and instead, figure out what really happened."

"Your guards, Jonah," Atticus sharply bit back. "That’s what happened. Were they asleep on the job? How the hell did they not see the missing prisoner? And if they did, why the hell did they not report back immediately?"

"I think there’s a reason why they didn’t report back in," Sirona piped up.

Everyone instinctively turned their heads, following the direction Sirona pointed. This time, it wasn’t just Daphne’s surprised gasp that had ripped through the room. Even Jonah let out a muffled curse under his breath.

The three guards that had been posted in the dungeons last night were all lying on the floor. Pools of blood had began to form under their bodies, the puddles a dark red that soaked through their clothes and across the stone that lined the floors of the dungeon.

Suddenly, the coppery scent that Daphne had caught earlier all made sense.

Daphne’s hand immediately flew to hover over her mouth, trying desperately to curb the nausea that was quickly rising up her throat.

Meanwhile, Atticus snarled, repeatedly striking the metal bars of the cell, causing them to dent and twist, but he did not care. Sheer fury had made him blind. How could this have happened right under his nose? Eugene Attonson will pay for this!

Other than the three guards, the rest of the prisoners in the other cells all met a similar fate. They either had their throats slit or were lying at odd angles that seemed way too unnatural. Yet, none of the cell doors were unlocked, and it was highly unlikely for the murderer to specially lock them back when the cells only contained the dead.

"Magic?" Sirona asked, stepping over to observe the dead bodies.

Jonah was already bent down by the sides of the guards, closing their eyes, not wanting them to be peeled open even after death. "Couldn’t have been anything else."

"And how convenient that the only person that isn’t here is also someone that might be capable of magic," Atticus said with a snort.

"Only royalty can perform magic," Daphne snapped. "Eugene wouldn’t do such a thing."

"Nobility can," Atticus answered. "Heck, even some commoners might be able to if they had the correct crystal to aid them! In case you don’t remember, royalties aren’t very loyal to their spouses. Who knows how many seeds they have sowed out into the wild, forgotten by the royal lineage and never crowned."

"Eugene Attonson could have very well been capable of performing magic with the right tools," Sirona agreed. "He could’ve had someone break him out as well, but it’s unlikely. The castle shouldn’t allow teleportation from the outside in."

"I warned you, Daphne," Atticus said. "Your little friend isn’t as good as he seems."

"And how can I be so sure that you aren’t the one that did this and then framed it on Eugene?" Daphne rebutted.

"And kill my own men for these petty games?" Atticus roared. He gestured to the guards. "Ante Porter, thirty-eight. He’s been in the royal cavalry for over twenty years. He was one of the knights that fought in the front lines and protected Vramid through the years before he had to be transferred due to a leg injury when he was twenty-five."

Another.

"Cornelius Osborn, twenty-seven. His wife just gave birth to their first son after trying for children and failing for eight years. He was supposed to return home to recuperate and take care of their newborn in a week’s time."

Finally, Atticus pointed to the last knight, a young man that looked about Daphne’s age, maybe younger.

"Augustus Wellington. He just turned seventeen and was recruited less than two months ago."

When Atticus turned away from the dead bodies and looked at Daphne, the darkness in his eyes was unexplainable. They swirled with pools of hatred and despair, his lips trembling as he spoke.

"As much as I can pull little tricks and speak white lies, I will not kill men that I have grown up with, or watched grow, just to gain the attention of a woman. These brothers in arms were people that built Vramid to the kingdom that it is. Maybe it’s time to wake up and face reality."

Daphne instinctively took a step back, trembling a little in fear from the way Atticus looked. The gaze in his eyes had turned murderous.

"Eugene Attonson is a wanted man. Jonah, if he is ever seen in Vramid again, let your men know to kill on sight."