Stolen by the Rebel King-Chapter 540: Difficult Questions

It was as though a dam had broken and more contestants began to voice their grouses. Complaints about unfairness rang through the air, each sounding more upset than the last.

"Everyone should have a fair chance at winning your hand!"

"Is it my fault that my family was poor, and I never got the chance to learn how to read?"

"I’m not even from your kingdom, how could I know this?"

Even some of the nobles that didn’t make it also made their displeasure known.

"How could you choose such a hard question for the first task!"

"Are you expecting me to solve world hunger next!"

"This is a farce! You just want to humiliate us!"

Faced with such hostility, Jonah started to move. With his previous experience in handling upset crowds, he knew how important it was to snuff out flames of anger and dissatisfaction before they started spreading. Daphne also readied herself; she couldn’t forget what a disaster her first Spring Parade was.

She’d be damned if she let a bunch of sore losers ruin things for Cordelia. She flexed her fingers, preparing to toss them out of the venue―

But Cordelia raised a hand, stopping the both of them.

"It’s fine, I expected this," Cordelia said.

"Cordelia, I have to go," Jonah said worriedly. "If I don’t stop them, things could get ugly."

His eyes darted to the crowd of unhappy men, who seemed to be ganging up on those who actually passed the trial. The line of men had begun to form a protective circle, and Daphne noted with grim amusement that Nikun was pushed right outside by Waylen. Nikun had his hands raised, and he seemed to be trying to placate the men.

Thankfully, none of them were armed. The sharpest thing they had on hand was the tip of the quill given to all participants, but Daphne wouldn’t put it past them to start flinging fists around when provoked.

"If you don’t want Jonah to help, let me do it," Daphne said.

"Thank you, but trust me, I’ll handle this," Cordelia said, shooting her a brief smile before turning to address the unhappy men. She planted her hands on the balcony and leaned forward, her shadow growing menacingly long under the morning sun, the sharp points of her crown looking more like the arrows of harpoons used to hunt whales.

Suddenly, Cordelia seemed less like a princess, and more like a vengeful hellhound waiting for her next meal. Daphne did not feel sorry for the candidates in the least. A small smirk crossed her face as she decided to step back and watch the show.

"Gentlemen, if this question is too difficult for you, let me pose a simpler one. How much do you think my hand in marriage is worth to you?"

Her voice carried through the hallway, the harsh consonants of her words echoing on the tiles.

A stunned silence met her pronouncement. The men who were so noisy before, so free with their jeers and insults, suddenly fell silent before her acute disdain, her blatant disregard for their complaints.

Their words had not managed to cow Cordelia in the least.

Instead, Cordelia was incensed by their behavior. And keeping silent wasn’t helping matters either; Cordelia seemed to grow more incensed at their attempts to avoid confrontation. If they weren’t going to fling themselves on her sword, she would shoot them out of the barrel.

"Well? I’m waiting for an answer," Cordelia called out. "Didn’t the pack of you have a lot of things to say? So come on, out with it right now, one by one. Don’t waste my time! Lunch hour is arriving soon, and I would like to have all this unpleasantness out of the way."

Daphne snorted quietly as she spotted several pale faces. None of them had the nerve to repeat what they had yelled out previously, in fear of becoming Cordelia’s next meal.

Come to think of it, Cordelia did mention she had a stormgator pet in her old letters. Maybe they were too afraid of being eaten by it, if not by her.

Atticus leaned down to her ear and cheerfully whispered, "Sunshine, who knew I would be seeing bloodshed so early in the day? All I need now is an orchestra playing background music."

"Shush you," Daphne scolded in amusement, but she kept her face impassive. "This is a serious incident."

This was not the time to show levity― she had to be a solid show of support for Cordelia, in front of all these men who were determined to undercut her authority.

One could hear a pin drop in the silence before Cordelia broke it by deliberately picking on a certain few people.

"Lord Gogragh, I heard your voice loud and clear. It seems that you have found this question difficult. May I know why this is so?"

Lord Gogragh’s face turned pale rapidly as he was addressed, and every eye in the room turned to stare at him. Daphne noted that he was one of the nobles who were complaining about the question set.

Sensing that there was no way out of the fire, Lord Gograph puffed himself up with bravado and spoke, "Yes, I would like to make my displeasure known. Questions of such caliber are simply unsolvable by most mortal men."

"So you’re claiming that your fellow candidates are immortal creatures?" Cordelia asked in amusement. "My my, I had no clue that my matchmaking tournament was so popular that I even attracted magical creatures. Do I have any secret kelpies in the lineup? Or a basilisk? I’m open to a griffin husband myself."

Cordelia gave Daphne a quick wink from the corner of her eyes, and Daphne tucked her mouth behind her hand so no one could see her giggling. The thought of Cordelia marrying Zephyr was so outrageous, that it took every bit of control in her not to cackle outright.

Meanwhile, the successful candidates were less than amused to be compared to nonhumans.

Lord Gograph’s face turned red in embarrassment. "N-no― I didn’t mean that― Lord Waylen, I would never―"

"I am sure," Cordelia continued drolly, "But more importantly, I am very curious to know how it is that one of the supposed top students in the Academy, under Professor Arlington’s graduating class, could possibly think a question of this caliber to be difficult. Wasn’t your thesis on maritime waters? I would think such a question would be up your alley... unless... you didn’t write it?"