Chapter 15: Stolen Identity

Chapter 15: Stolen Identity

"Tell me."

"I... there was a traveler that stopped by my farm," the seller started to say. "He helped us craft some of the more intricate toys in exchange for our sheep's wool. When he heard about my problem, he offered to give me some of his own stones." She paused, hesitating. "He said he found them by the ocean, when the tide was gone."

Atticus clenched his fist. Great.

Someone had infiltrated his kingdom, possibly using his own helpless citizens to smuggle precious gems into his country. This seller would have simply created the toys, and then the rest of the smugglers would simply buy the toys from this woman, who didn't know any better.

No gems appeared with the tides, but how would his citizens know? Most of them have never seen the ocean. Vramid was surrounded by endless winter and what seemed like an infinite row of trees. It would be a miracle to even find moving water in a stream or river.

And if one of Atticus's men had discovered this scheme, this innocent seller's head would have rolled. His kingdom didn't support the illegal mining of gems.

"Am I going to be imprisoned?" the woman asked softly, spotting the murderous look on Atticus' face. This man was probably a constable, even a soldier. He was going to haul her to the king! The very thought made tears form in her eyes.

"No, of course not," Daphne said, holding her hands. "You were completely unaware."

"I didn't know," the woman repeated, just short of crying. "I really didn't. You have to believe me!"

"The pebbles inside this toy," Atticus said instead, changing the topic. "What were the colors? Do you remember?"

"I..." The seller's mouth gaped open and close, unsure what to say. "No, sir. It's hard to tell since the stones were generally mixed. There's a variety of colors in each toy."

"How much is it?" Atticus asked. "For the toy, I mean. I'll buy all of them you have on hand."

"Please take them for free, if it means you wouldn't report me to the king!" The seller reached for the rest of her stock, pulling out a dozen more similar-looking toys.

"Nonsense." Clicking his tongue, Atticus reached for his pouch, pulling out a couple of gold coins. "You are running a business nonetheless, and you have a family to take care of. There's no reason to report you if you're an unknowing helper." Placing eight gold coins in the stall vendor's hands, he continued, "Will this be enough?"

The woman's eyes widened at the sight of the shiny golden coins that now sat in the center of her palm. She had never held so much money before! This could feed their family for a whole year, if she budgeted wisely.

"It's more than enough!" she exclaimed. "Thank you, sir, thank you. Thank you for sparing me."

"In exchange," Atticus said, "I'll need you to do something for me."

The seller's heart sank. She knew it wouldn't be so easy to detach her name from magic once they have been related.

Nonetheless, she still bravely said, "What is it? If it's something I can do, I will definitely help out in return for you and your wife's generosity."

"If the same man ever approaches you again, let me know," Atticus instructed. Reaching for the piece of paper and quill behind the counter, he scribbled down an address. "Address your letters to this location and name. It might be better for you to have someone you trust to go in your stead."

The seller peered at the address written on the parchment, her eyes turning as wide as saucers.

"T-This..." she stammered. Her hunch had been right. This man was indeed someone she shouldn't mess with. "Of course, Sir Jonah. If I come across any new information, I will let you know at once."

They bid the frantic woman goodbye, and in their hands were bags full of her toys. To any casual festival goer, they looked like an ordinary couple who went overboard with shopping for their newborn, which was how Atticus wanted it to look.

"Does Sir Jonah know you're stealing his identity?" Daphne asked quietly after they were far enough from the stall vendor.

Atticus shrugged. "What he doesn't know won't kill him."

Daphne longed to take out the toys one by one to see if she could inspire a similar reaction, just to make sure she hadn't been hallucinating the entire situation. Initially, she still wanted to take a look at the many other stalls, but the realization that she could have magical abilities drove all other thoughts from her mind.

'Please let it be true.' She prayed desperately in her heart. If it was nothing but a mere fluke, it would be utterly devastating.

Atticus was surprisingly silent. She cast a careful look, not liking the grimness in his eyes. He was so noisy throughout the trip that she wished he would keep quiet, but now that he wasn't saying a word, the atmosphere was becoming uncomfortable.

"Do you want to go back to the castle?" Daphne asked unsurely, her voice barely above a murmur.

"Hmm?" Atticus turned to look at her as if snapped out of a trance. "Oh, no, of course not, sunshine. We've barely just begun."

"You just seem very...," Daphne hesitated, "out of it. Don't you have to deal with what just happened?" n((o()V(-e).l-(B-(1-.n

"Of course I do," Atticus answered. "But it's not that urgent that I would have to sacrifice time with my new wife." His signature cocky grin slipped back onto his face. "Unless, of course, my beloved is rushing back so that we can continue our quality time spent in the bedroom?"

Daphne scowled. She should've known better than to worry about a prick like that. Atticus was a fully grown adult, much more a king. He could take care of himself plenty.

"I take back what I said." She scowled, folding her arms across her chest. "If I'm finally out here, I might as well make full use of the time. Maybe all the walking could even tire you out."

"I know something else that could tire us both out," Atticus immediately glibly insinuated, wiggling his eyebrows. "And it would be an activity both of us would enjoy. Tell me, my dear wife, would we have a dozen kids to make full use of the toys we just bought?"

Instantly, Daphne's face burned red at his words. She sneered at him, eyebrows furrowed and lips pinched into a straight line. If only her little display of magic just now hadn't been a fluke. She would very much enjoy burning this man down to his bare bones.

"Over my dead body!"

"I'm not exactly into necrophilia, but I'll make an exception for you," Atticus commented, pretending to be deep in thought. "But I must say, you have an incredible variety of interests in bed. First strangulation, now necrophilia..."

The audacity of this man!

Daphne screamed into her hands. She wanted to hit him so bad her body was practically steaming with repressed need. There had to be something she could use...something on hand...

"That's a rather distasteful thing, especially for a princess, don't you think?" Atticus continued, loving how his wife was turning a fetching shade of red. She took deep gulping breaths and crouched down, as though she suddenly lost strength in her limbs.

"Sunshine?" Atticus asked warily, now slightly worried. His wife did accidentally discover possible latent magic in her, who knows what effect it might have on her body? There were hardly any studies in this field.

"Are you alright? Do we need to go―"

He was met with a snowball to the face.