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Stolen by the Rebel King

As a princess who could not wield magic, Princess Daphne’s only value to her kingdom was her arranged marriage. The task was simple, but when Daphne was kidnapped and brought to the cold mountains of Vramid, she realized that she was in over her head. She had heard of these cursed mountains before― rocky terrain, freezing temperatures, and the land was ruled by a man feared by many within the continent. King Atticus Heinvres, the blood-thirsty ruler of the North. Even though she had never met him before, tales were spread of King Atticus’s ruthlessness. Some said he was a monster, others claimed he was the devil himself, but whatever the story was, everyone knew of the man who had powers beyond anyone’s imagination. He could topple armies and crumble nations with just one wave of his hand, aided by what others rumored to be a cursed obsidian ring. No one outside of Vramid had ever met the fearsome king before. Not until Daphne. However, upon meeting the formidable man, Daphne found out that the king might not really be the monster others had claimed him to be. In fact, what was hidden under that obsidian shield could just be a diamond in the rough. ― [Excerpt] “Now… where should I put you both?” he asked casually, not expecting a reply. “It’s regretful that I only have one chandelier.” “Underneath my bed? No, no, too dirty. My dust bunnies don’t deserve this,” Atticus mused to himself. “The mantlepiece? How about the vanity table? I suppose if I lop off one of your heads I could mount it over… Wife, which head do you want to stare at while you do your hair?” “Atticus!” Daphne screamed. “I don’t want any heads! Let them go.” “Fair enough.” Atticus shrugged, and flicked his fingers. There were two identical cracks as both necks snapped at once. Daphne gasped, horrified. This man, her husband, had just killed two men with a flick of his finger, as though he was snuffing out candles. “I told you to let them go!” Daphne cried out. “Yes, I let them go,” Atticus said. Then, his eyes darkened. “To receive divine judgment from the heavens.” ― Discord Server: https://discord.gg/7HAMK2bRYU

saltedpepper · Fantasy
Not enough ratings
575 Chs

Counterfeit III

Daphne's mouth ran dry. Jean Nott's words were in a language she understood, but when they were strung together they made little to no sense at all. The fate of the living world? As far as Daphne knew, the iron meteorites were meant to reverse Silas's dastardly fate. The rest of the world shouldn't hinge on Silas's survival. 

"What are you talking about?" Daphne demanded. "Explain yourself!"

"If you wish, my sweet chickpea, I will oblige," Jean said dotingly, and it sent shudders down Daphne's spine. Jean's terms of endearment were more horrifying than his outright threats. "What does an iron meteorite, a kelpie's eye, a griffin's wing, and your wedding ring have in common?" he asked in a sing-song voice. 

"If I knew, I wouldn't be sitting here waiting for you to explain, would I?" Daphne retorted acerbically.