'Peaceful' wasn't a term Daphne could use to describe the next few days of her life in the castle. For one thing, Atticus hadn't fully 'recovered' from his imaginary illness. He had sent Sirona and Jonah running about the palace looking for her, and when she couldn't be found, Maisie.
In the end, not only was Daphne hiding from Atticus and his fellow goons, she had dragged Maisie along with her as well to prevent her closest confidant from being bribed over to the dark side.
"You can't avoid His Majesty forever," Maisie chided. "Maybe it's time to sit down and talk it through."
Sweet innocent Maisie. She still thought that the reason why Daphne was avoiding Atticus was because of the aphrodisiac incident. While she wasn't exactly wrong, that wasn't the only reason. There were multiple emotions jostling for center stage in her heart.
As Daphne found herself reluctantly spending more time with Atticus, a curious shift began to take place within her. At first, her heart remained guarded, hardened by the circumstances that had brought them together. The initial fear and resentment lingered, reminding her of the way he had disrupted her life and stolen her freedom.
But as the days turned into nights, and their forced companionship evolved into something resembling a fragile connection, Daphne discovered herself
experiencing a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. Beneath fragile connection, Daphne discovered herself experiencing a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. Beneath her initial disdain, she noticed glimpses of Atticus that contradicted the rumors and assumptions she had heard.
In the quiet moments shared between them, Daphne observed Atticus with newfound clarity. She saw the way his eyes softened when he thought she wasn't looking, revealing a vulnerability she hadn't anticipated. His laughter, once foreign and grating to her ears, now had the power to send a warmth cascading through her veins.
It was in the simple acts of kindness, the stolen glances, and the unexpected moments of understanding that Daphne's heart began to thaw. Atticus, with all his flaws and complexities, was slowly chipping away at the walls she had erected around herself. This funny feeling that had started to brew in Daphne's heart had only heightened after the passionate kiss they had shared while under the influence of the aphrodisiac. That was the tipping point and this all scared her.
Then she remembered that he was pretending to be ill. Even if Daphne was the one that fed him the tonic, this whole mess was his fault to begin with!
Daphne had no clue what was happening. She had only known Atticus for a short while, definitely not enough to convert whatever hatred she bore for him into entirely positive feelings. But she knew that if she were to stand in front of the king right this instant, Daphne would be reduced to a blushing mess.
She refused to let it happen. He didn't deserve it. A knock on the door interrupted Daphne's thoughts, preventing her from the chance to reply to Maisie.
"Your Highness?" A familiar voice could be heard behind the door that separated them. Instantly, Daphne winced, recognizing it as Jonah. "I know you're in there. His Majesty has been asking for you."
"Tell him I won't be coming to his room," Daphne answered, her tone a little harsher than she intended it. There was a pause. "His Majesty is requesting your presence." Another pause. "He hasn't eaten properly the last couple of days without you around."
A slight crack formed in the walls Daphne had constructed to keep Atticus out, but she reminded herself to hold firm. She wasn't responsible for his lack of appetite!
He's not even actually sick!
"Am I his wet nurse? The king is perfectly capable of eating on his own." Daphne replied, crossing her arms irritably. Beside her, Maisie's mouth fell open in disappointment. "But Your Highness, the king might get sicker!" Maisie protested.
Daphne narrowed her eyes. The king was at the peak of physical health. Instead, it was she who was left feeling breathless and dizzy, her body burning hot as though she had a fever whenever she thought about him. It was driving her mad, especially since thoughts of him often cropped up during the middle of the night. "Nonsense, Maisie, I have full faith in the king's abilities," Daphne said. Then she directed her words to the man behind the door. "Jonah, you can force him to eat. I'm giving you blanket permission to shove food down his throat."
"Your Highness, no one can force King Atticus to do anything. And me shoving food down his throat might lead to me losing my own," Jonah said with a heavy sigh. She can almost picture his beleaguered face. "Can you take pity on this poor knight and just eat a meal with him? Just one meal. I'll promise to not bother you about this again. I'll beg outside if I have to."
"Please, Your Highness!" Maisie added, her eyes big and shiny, like a puppy begging for a treat. Daphne caught her before she sank to her knees to beg for Atticus, who definitely did not deserve Maisie's innocent compassion. Daphne felt her heart waver; more cracks were forming in the walls. "I'll go with you," Jonah said, sensing Daphne's hesitation. "If he tries anything you're uncomfortable with, I'll dump the pitcher of milk over his head."
Imagining the sight, both Daphne and Maisie caught each other's eyes and giggled. "Fine," Daphne said, "I'll go. But as promised, I'm only doing this for one meal only."
And possibly to see Atticus dunked in milk. Daphne nodded to herself as she was escorted to the dining hall. While Maisie was humming a cheerful tune behind her, Daphne quickly patched up the cracks in the wall, reminding herself to be as cool and impenetrable as a fortress wall.
'He lied to me,' Daphne reminded herself. 'You're just a joke to him. A novelty. A fun toy. If he loved or respected you, he would never have decided to fake illness. And even now, he still refuses to come clean, manipulating you so that you'll eat a meal with him. If you give an inch he'll take a mile without blinking. He is a scoundrel of the highest order!' So effective was her internal monologue that when they finally reached the doors leading to Atticus's temporary bedchambers, her eyes were colder than Vramid's winters. Jonah accidentally caught a glimpse of her expression and winced; Atticus was going to do a lot of groveling to salvage the situation, but of course, he was an idiot, so he wouldn't.
"Your Majesty," Jonah called whilst knocking on the door. "The Queen has arrived."
His idiotic best friend's merry voice soon came from within the room, "Well, hurry in, then."
The slight tick of Daphne's jaw had Jonah silently reciting prayers in his heart. Vramid might be without a king soon at this rate, with his liege's pure idiocy and incompetence in reading a woman's mind. With the door pushed open, Daphne and Jonah stepped in. Past the sitting area was the familiar four-poster bed that Daphne was all too familiar with. Atticus sat there on the bed, a broad smile on his face as he cheerily beamed at Daphne. An armchair had been placed right beside the bed, with the side table cleared out. Two trays of breakfast were already placed in the room, one on the bed right in front of Atticus and one on the side table, most likely Daphne's portion. "Sunshine!" Atticus's smile was radiant but even so, it wasn't warm enough to melt the iciness of Daphne's expression. "You're finally here. I almost thought you weren't willing to see me any longer."
"So he does have a brain," Daphne muttered under her breath. It wasn't loud enough for Atticus to hear from across the room, but Jonah, who was standing right next to Daphne, heard it clear as day. However, she said nothing more than that and simply walked to the side of the bed where the armchair and the extra set of breakfast were placed. Elegantly as ever, she sat down, tucking her skirt under her. "You seem perfectly fine to me," Daphne commented coldly, barely even looking at Atticus as she picked up her fork and knife, slicing into the sausage with a little more force than what was needed. "Definitely well enough and grown enough to eat breakfast on your own."
"Healer Sirona's…" Atticus hesitated, "tonic has worked well. But even so, I am not entirely at my best."
The mention of the disastrous concoction had warning bells blaring in Daphne's mind. A flash of the raunchy things that had happened a few nights ago took flight, a vivid reminder of the unwavering heat she had felt. Her gaze turned sharply to Atticus. She could see the images of themselves pressed up against each other on the bed, lips connected, limbs tangled, and chests heaving up and down heavily from the kisses shared. Just the thought was infuriating and Daphne couldn't even pinpoint why. Clearly, Atticus had a death wish for bringing up the events of that fateful night again! Jonah discreetly caught his eye and signaled to him to 'tread carefully'.
Atticus nodded and opened his mouth.
"Were the nights cold without me?" Jonah sighed.
What a waste of good milk.