Stolen by the Rebel King

Chapter 3: The Wedding

'This cannot be happening to me,' Daphne thought dazedly. She couldn't move her legs, but that didn't stop her body from gliding down the aisle via a supernatural force. She narrowed her eyes, glaring hotly at the culprit as the distance between her and her soon-to-be husband steadily shrank.

Out of the hordes of servants watching this spectacle, no one blinked an eye at the fact that she was here under duress, getting married under the coercion of supernatural forces. If her groom could do this to her, an actual princess, who knows what the servants had to endure?

Said culprit merely continued smirking.

"Why do you look so delighted?" Daphne grumbled. She could not be less amused.

"Someone has to be for this wedding, and it certainly isn't going to be you," he replied glibly, holding her hand with his own, larger one. For such a cold-hearted scoundrel, he certainly had warm hands.

"What makes you think I'll accept this farce of a wedding?"

"You have no choice," King Atticus said. "Agree to marry me, or I'll kill everyone in this hall and marry you anyway. The choice is yours."

"You―" Her blood grew cold when she heard the callous words from his lips. "They are your people! You're their king. You would kill them for this?"

"Like you said, I'm their king. If our marriage doesn't happen, they'll die anyway. It's only a matter of time. Would you have their deaths on your conscience, Princess Daphne?"

If Daphne were calmer, she would find those words suspicious. As it was, she was shaking from unrestrained rage. "Don't you dare blame me for your actions! I pity your people, for having to live under such a capricious and cruel king."

King Atticus only looked more amused. He turned to the priest, who looked like he couldn't wait to escape from the hall. Daphne could understand. She gave him a pleading look, hoping that he could help her stop this wedding.

She was sorely disappointed.

"We are gathered here today to witness the joining of hearts and minds… "

Daphne closed her eyes in desperate prayer. She missed the fond look her husband gave her, and the way he gestured to the priest to hurry up. Instinctively, Daphne reached up, thankful that her new husband had at least given her this bit of mobility back. Yet, her body felt like it was doused in cold water when her fingers touched nothing but the bare skin of her neck.

That's right. She had forgotten. King Atticus had ripped the last bit of familiarity left on her body and smashed it to the ground like it was nothing more than glass.

The realization of her destroyed necklace sent Daphne into further despair. After all, that necklace wasn't just an accessory― like most jewelry on the continent, they were supposed to be charms, talismans that would aid them in their magic. And although Daphne had never been adept at it, that little trinket still made her feel safe. It was, after all, a gift from her sister.

"...to have and to hold from this day forward, for better or for worse, for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health…" the priest continued.

Daphne could see clear as day the tick of irritation that flashed across the king's face, and with each passing word, increasingly so. The vein that throbbed at his temple nearly sent Daphne into a giggling fit.

Why was he so impatient? Did he have somewhere else to be after this?

So enraptured in her stupor, she hadn't even noticed that King Atticus had already said his vows. And when the priest addressed her, calling her for the second time, Daphne snapped back to reality.

"Your Highness?" the priest prompted.

Daphne blinked. Dumbly, her lips parted but no words left. She couldn't find her own voice, glancing back and forth between the priest and the king.

"Pardon?"

"Do you, Princess Daphne Amelia Molinero, take His Majesty, King Atticus Rowan Heinvres, as your lawfully wedded husband?"

The hall was drenched in silence. Daphne was sure that everyone could hear her heart thundering in her chest without even having to strain their ears too hard.

She wasn't sure why but Daphne's first instinct was to turn towards King Atticus. Her eyes met his instantly, gazes colliding.

For some insane reason, Daphne felt her heart calm down. The gaze in his eyes were soft, mellow, and unlike anything else she had ever associated him with ever since she had first heard tales of this cruel king.

The pooling gold in his eyes was hypnotizing. His irises reminded Daphne of the stars that dotted the sky at night, or of the glow of the sun when evening casts it onto the horizon.

She was so mesmerized in his gaze that it was only when the hall erupted into boisterous cheers had she finally snapped out of it.

"And now I pronounce you man and wife. You may now kiss the bride."

Wait… had she already said 'I do'?

"Wait―" Daphne murmured, looking around. "I didn't―"

"You did," King Atticus swiftly cut in. Daphne glared sharply at him, her blood boiling when she connected the dots.

"You! You used magic on me," she accused angrily.

Her new husband had the gall to look affronted at being accused. "Honored priest, did you see me casting any spell on my bride?"

"No I did not, Your Highness," the priest said placidly.

Daphne gritted her teeth. They were all liars and scoundrels.

"You heard him."

Before Daphne could react, she felt a pair of warm lips pressed against her own. The kiss was not intrusive― there was no tongue or teeth or any of that disgusting action she had heard the maids of the Reawethen castle had gossiped about.

Instead, it was just a chaste kiss, a brief moment where their lips were in contact. Yet, that brief second was all that was needed. Warmth rushed through her body. Immediately, where their skins touched, Daphne felt as though it was on fire ― in the best way possible ― as if there were flowers blooming where he touched her.

The feeling confused her, for she rejected and repelled the man with all her might in her heart. Yet… maybe it was just the power of it having been her first kiss. It felt like for a second, she had been cast into paradise.

But that second came and went and as soon as Atticus pulled back, Daphne snapped back into reality. That was the second time within the last hour the king had done something against her desires.

Meanwhile, Atticus only beamed when he saw his new wife's angry face.

"Now that the ceremony is over, we should proceed to the most important part of any wedding."

"I'm not hungry," Daphne bit out. Her stomach was now twisted with dread and indignant anger― she doubted she could swallow anything bigger than a prune. "You can have the banquet without me."

"Banquet? Surely you jest, my sweet wife. We're not having a banquet."

"Then what are you referring to? What can be more important than…"

Her voice trailed off, a horrible conclusion forming in her mind. Her body trembled and shook and her eyes widened with fear.

A look of utmost amusement flashed across his handsome face.

"It seems like you've guessed it." Atticus turned to his servants and declared, "Prepare the bedding chamber! I wish to consummate my marriage immediately."

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