33 A Great Actor
"Atticus! Don't die!" Daphne lamented as her hands tenderly cradled his face, willing him to open his eyes, but he remained unconscious. She cursed herself for not treating him more kindly when she had the chance. Now it could be too late for her to make amends. Why was she so stubborn and cold to him?
"What happened? Why is he suddenly coughing up blood?"
'Because he's a dramatic little shithead,' Jonah thought, internally rolling his eyes at Atticus's performance. If Daphne knew that Atticus was faking it, those fingers that were gently stroking his cheek would be wrapped around his neck.
The morally right thing to do would be to let Daphne know Atticus was faking it, but what was life without a little risk? Jonah was morbidly curious to see how far Atticus was willing to go.
More importantly, if the queen found out about this, Atticus would be first in her line of fire. Not Jonah. It wouldn't hurt him to watch the show.
"Your Highness, please change into your dress," Jonah said. "I'll ensure the king is decent and we'll get help from the healers."
"Why can't the healers see him like… oh." Daphne flushed as she realized that her husband was completely nude. It would be completely undignified for Atticus to be surrounded by healers while he was naked and wet.
"You should get dressed too."
Daphne looked down at herself, suddenly realizing her state of undress in front of another man. She squeaked and let go of Atticus's head, causing it to bump on to the tiles.
"Oh no!" Daphne wailed in panic. "Now I've gone and killed him!"
Jonah squashed the smile that was threatening to appear on his face.
"Nonsense. Atticus's head is made out of tiger bones and bear fat. He is so dense even a hammer wouldn't hurt him. Just get dressed. With me here, nothing will happen to him," he promised, looking every inch a loyal knight.
Daphne nodded and hurriedly ran towards her dress, turning around to put it on once she realized that Jonah was too preoccupied with helping Atticus put on his pants to even peek at her. As she struggled with her dress, Daphne failed to see Atticus's mouth silently mouth words as he tugged his shirt on for him.
'I heard that. I'm not dense,' Atticus mouthed.
Jonah rolled his eyes and discreetly whispered in his ear, "When your wife finds out, I'm not saving you."
Atticus gave him a small wink, and mouthed the words 'play along'. Jonah gave him an incredulous look, but of course, Atticus then decided it was time to play dead, so he didn't react.
Damn him.
"I'm ready!" Daphne called out.
"The king is decent enough. Let us go. Your Highness, can you run ahead and call for the healers?" he asked, carrying Atticus in his arms as though he was a bride. Atticus would hate being hauled around like this, which was exactly why Jonah was doing it.
If Atticus was making him take part in this charade, he was going to have his fun.
Daphne nodded, not sensing anything amiss. Her mind was filled with worry for Atticus as she sprinted for the door, yelling for a healer. The sight of the new queen looking bedraggled with wet hair and a creased gown immediately attracted the attention of servants, and her words spurred them into a frenzy.
"The king needs a healer!"
Behind her, Sir Jonah was carrying their king, who was unconscious.
"A healer!"
"Bring the Chief Healer!"
In no time at all, Atticus was brought into his chambers. As he lay on the bed, Daphne took his hand and squeezed. It was too cold for her liking, and she blinked back tears.
"What do you mean the king drowned in a bath? Is this your idea of a joke, Sir Jonah?"
A woman's voice echoed from the corridor. Daphne saw a slightly older woman with long black hair enter the room, huffing and puffing as she lugged a heavy bag of tools. Behind her were two servants lugging huge boxes, and beside them was Sir Jonah, looking incredibly apologetic.
"Oh dear, you weren't joking." The woman shook her head and tutted disapprovingly as she stared down at Atticus. She rolled up the sleeves of her dark oversized dress to reveal an array of purple crystal bangles that were glowing. Strangely enough, they were the same shade of purple as her eyes.
There was no way it could be natural. Was this woman a witch?
"Healer Sirona, please treat him! He nearly drowned!" Jonah exclaimed.
"He also coughed up blood," Daphne added, in case Jonah forgot that very important detail.
"Really? But I don't sense any irregularities…" Healer Sirona said dubiously.
"Look at his lips!" Daphne burst out, pointing at the reddish stain on Atticus' lips, the only spot of color on his paling face. "There's definitely something wrong with him! He could be poisoned!"
"Please take a closer look, Healer Sirona. Touch his hands and you will know," Jonah said, his eyes twitching as he tried to tell the healer to play along. Sirona narrowed her eyes and grabbed Atticus's hands, trying to feel for irregularities in his pulse.
He was perfectly fine!
Sirona shot Jonah an incredulous look and only got a begging expression in reply. It was similar to the look Jonah used to give her when he and Atticus were younger when they needed her to help to fake contagious illnesses so they could be left alone.
What a troublesome king! But he was still her king, so she put on her best act.
"Ah yes! I see it now," Sirona said, nodding sagely. "You are right, the king is suffering from signs of poisoning. But His Highness has a strong constitution, so he will make a full recovery."
"Thank goodness!" Daphne sank into her chair, relieved. "Is there anything we can do to help?"
"Come to think of it…" Sirona's eyes lit up. If these men wanted to waste their time, she was going to teach them a lesson. "There is something that you can do when His Majesty wakes up. It will only deplete his energy and weaken him further."
"What is it?" Daphne asked, her eyes practically sparkling with tears.
Sirona had to resist the wicked smile that was threatening to spread across her face. She could feel Atticus tensing up beneath her death grip and she loved it. From the corner of her eye, she could see that even Jonah was trying not to laugh. It was almost as if they already knew what she was going to
say.
"My Queen," Sirona said humbly, "make sure to refrain from intercourse until the king fully recovers."
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