Sarah Moore
Stories
9
Chapters
5,025
Words
52.7 K
Comments
0
Reading
4 h, 23 m
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"Sweetheart! Look at these toys!" Atticus called out loudly, purposely attracting the attention of onlookers. Daphne turned around and gave him a flinty glare, but there was nothing she could do in front of this crowd. Nothing she wanted to do, at least. Such as wrapping a cord around this man's neck and wringing him dead. A sparkle appeared in Atticus's eyes. "Don't you think it would be perfect for our new baby?" The princess's eyelid twitched as she huffed at her husband. She had forgotten how…-
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Daphne laughed awkwardly while shooting daggers with her eyes. "Thank you for reminding me, darling." She stressed the last word, basically spitting it out like it was a mouthful of venom. Reaching up, she snatched the pouch from Atticus's hands. He simply let her, spreading his fingers casually the second she had a firm grip on the coin bag, grinning. "Aren't you pretending to be a peasant?" Daphne hissed in his ear as she fished for coins in the pouch. "Stop flaunting your purse!" "If we were…
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It was absolutely infuriating. Daphne no longer knew if she was just mad at the man or if everything he did was truly against all that was right with the world. However, no matter what it was that Atticus did ― even breathe ― it sent Daphne's eyelid twitching and hands itching. She had been led out of the inner courtyard that she had been walking rounds in and towards the back exit where the stables were. There, she waited for a few minutes with the quiet castle help until, eventually, her knight…
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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…
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"Rise and shine, Your Highness!" Maisie chirped delightedly as she pulled the curtains to let the first rays of sunlight through. Daphne let out a groan that sounded more like a drunk stumbling out from a tavern than a sound from a dignified princess. "It's morning already?" Daphne grumbled, but she still sat up, her hair looking like a bird's nest. She felt barely rested from the events of yesterday, how could it be morning mere hours later? "Yes!" Maisie beamed at her. "Our mornings start early.…
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Atticus strolled out of his new wedding chamber, internally snickering at the idea of his new wife cursing him in her sleep. Since she already had less than positive feelings about him, he might as well relish in the moment. There was no way she could escape; she was exhausted and Jonah had put his best guards along the perimeter of the castle. Speaking of Jonah… "Jonah, report," Atticus demanded the moment he strode through Jonah's office. Jonah leapt to his feet from his desk. "You're done? So…
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With Jonah gone, the hallway fell into uneasy silence. Daphne was once again alone with her captor, the monstrous King Atticus who took joy in tormenting her and forcing her to marry him. The same King Atticus that saved her and healed her, who bantered and sulked like a schoolboy when teased by his oldest friend. The thought was making her head hurt. How could a man be so different from one moment and then another? "You're awfully silent," Atticus observed. "Are you alright?" Daphne looked…
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Without further warning, Atticus pulled the wedged glass out of Daphne's foot. A scream tore through her throat. The pain of it was just as bad as when it had cut into her flesh. Now that it was so abruptly pulled out, the wound scorched. But, surprisingly, as quickly as the pain came, it was gone. What was once painful was soon replaced by a cooling sensation. Daphne heaved, her chest rising and dropping rapidly as she looked down at Atticus, who was squatting just beneath her. A king like…
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The intruders rushed toward King Atticus, intending to overwhelm him with their attacks. But Atticus merely stretched his neck languidly, like a panther preparing to strike. "Look out!" Daphne screamed in warning, but it was too late. Those intruders didn't know what her new husband was truly capable of, despite getting a tiny hint of his powers. With a tiny flex of his finger, Atticus had flung the same man whose ribs he crushed, straight into the chandelier hanging over their bed. The curved golden…
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Daphne didn't have the chance ― thankfully ― to reply. Before she could even gather her thoughts, a series of knocks thundered on the door that separated them from the outside world, sending Daphne jumping a little where she sat. Atticus's head spun immediately to face the door, a scowl hanging on his face. "Who dares to interrupt my wedding night?" he bellowed. If looks could kill, Daphne knew that nothing could save the person that had just knocked on their bedroom door. "Your Highness!" A…
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