Chapter 11: Mouse in a Maze
Cotton was surprisingly a much better material to wear than Daphne had guessed. Call her pampered but she was, after all, raised as a princess. There was never a need for her to wear anything less than the finest fabrics the kingdom had to offer.
Yet, dressed in a simple white bell-sleeved blouse and a pale brown skirt, Daphne felt much more comfortable than she would in those stuffy corsets and embroidered gowns. At least she felt like she could breathe properly for once.
When Maisie had shown up with the clothes, an idea popped up in Daphne's head. Or rather, just one word.
Escape.
It was stupid, yes, she could've guessed. However, if Atticus had been so kind as to use magic to treat her foot injury instead of letting her heal on her own, Daphne deduced that she must be somewhat of value to him.
She just wasn't sure how valuable she was. Plenty high, though, she assumed.
That would mean that if ― or rather, when ― her escape plan failed and she was once again captured, at least Atticus wouldn't have her head. There was no use patching up a small tear just to rip the entire fabric the next day.
Of course, sweet darling Maisie hadn't guessed what was running through Daphne's mind when she had helped her change into the clothes. Daphne had bid her farewell, promising to return soon after, claiming that she was on her way to look for the king.
Bless Maisie; she hadn't asked to follow along. She had simply let the princess run off on her own.
The chain of events eventually led Daphne to where she was now. Completely, utterly, foolishly lost in the castle. She had not a single clue where she was, how she got there, and how to leave. And given the fact that she was supposed to be a prisoner, she didn't dare ask for directions either, lest the castle staff recognized her.
"I can almost swear the gate is supposed to be around here somewhere," she murmured under her breath.
She was in an open courtyard. Again. Daphne could've sworn she had just been in an area similar to this. It wasn't possible for a castle to have that many courtyards, was it? Surely the entire castle was enchanted. She wouldn't put it past Atticus to do such a thing as punishment for servants that don't pay attention.
"Need some help, sunshine?" a voice asked from above her. "You've been walking in circles for the last hour."
Daphne's blood chilled, her feet rooting to the ground when she heard that familiar teasing voice. Her eyelid twitched in annoyance, her head slowly pivoting to face where the noise came from.
Surely enough, lo and behold, there sat Atticus right at the windowsill two levels above her, one leg dangling outside while the other was raised, his arm resting on his knee. As ever, Atticus wore a cocky smile that Daphne wanted nothing more than to scratch off his lips.
He was dressed casually― a loose white linen blouse and some dark-colored pants with matching boots. The lace of his blouse was left untied, revealing his broad, muscular chest.
Damn him. Damn him and his God-blessed looks. If only he had the personality to match.
With Daphne stunned, silly, and speechless, Atticus chuckled.
"Perhaps you would like some help?" Atticus asked.
He then leaped off where he sat, slowly descending until his boots made contact with the stone pavement with barely a sound. Up close, right before he reached ground level, Daphne could see wisps of indigo surrounding him, a tell-tale sign of his magic at work.
"Show off," she grumbled under her breath.
If Atticus had heard her, he didn't show. Instead, he said, "I'm not going to lie. It was awfully entertaining to watch you run about like a mouse in a maze. But it's also getting slightly infuriating that you still can't find the exit even though the corridors are empty of guards to catch you."
Daphne could feel a vein throbbing underneath the skin of her forehead.
"I almost had it," she said through gritted teeth.
Atticus grinned, his dimples showing. "Darling, you have such a terrible sense of direction that I am starting to think that I am not even sure you can escape from my kingdom even if I pointed the path to you and gave you a map."
'Breathe,' Daphne reminded herself. 'Dear Lord in heaven, would you please smite him for me or would I have to do it myself?'
Outwardly, she merely forced out a smile. "Why, if you would be so kind, I would be happy to prove you wrong?"
The king chuckled, his laughter bouncing off the walls that surrounded them.
"No can do, sunshine," he said. "However, if you're keen on leaving the castle but returning after night falls, I would be happy to show you around town."
"You mean…" Daphne's eyes widened. "You would let me go to the fair?"
"I would escort you while you visit the fair," Atticus corrected her firmly. Not only did his new wife have a bad sense of direction, but the report Jonah gave last night also highlighted the possible threats. He wasn't taking any chances.
"Oh," Daphne's face fell."I had hoped for more anonymity. How will I enjoy the festival with you around?"
Her brothers and sisters had always enjoyed fairs, and the more daring ones even went in disguise, claiming that it was the best way to get an authentic festival experience. Once one appeared as royalty, vendors would be cloyingly fawning while the townspeople would gawk and stare. It didn't seem much fun to her, to be scrutinized like a prized animal.
"Anonymity, you say?" Atticus raised an eyebrow, taking a closer look at her attire. "Like you pretending to be a palace maid to escape?"
Daphne spluttered.
"But I see your point," Atticus continued. "In that case, I'll make some changes to my wardrobe. Meet me in the main courtyard in half an hour. Keep your maid attire, if it pleases you."
With that final statement, Atticus turned and leaped back through the castle window, using the branches as leverage. That casual show of strength infuriated Daphne and made her nearly green with envy, but she told herself to remain calm.
She was going to the fair. Surely she would be able to find help there, especially if she revealed her identity to any Reaweth trader!
Now… where was the main courtyard again?