Stolen by the Rebel King-Chapter 548: Santok’s Wares

The waves crashed against the shore, its sound reverberating into the distance. To be fair, the road they had taken winded along the outskirts of the kingdom; this was a beautiful natural lullaby that Cordelia had known all her life.

Moonlit Cove wasn’t too far from the palace, and it made travel very convenient.

Thank god it did. If Jonah had to sit in the same carriage with Princess Cordelia for a second longer, he thought he might actually combust and die on the spot. He hated thinking this, but Atticus was right. He couldn’t handle this.

Not when Cordelia was staring at him heatedly every once in a while, her gaze scanning him up and down as though he was a piece of meat for sale at the butcher’s.

And Jonah had the strangest longing to be eaten.

"It’s right there," Jonah said, hopping off the carriage so that he could help Cordelia down. She took his hand with no complaints, alighting with grace while holding her skirts up with another. "There are some guards around the area to make sure that civilians will not loiter there."

"Perfect," she said.

She stared out at the ocean past her kingdom’s dry land. Nedour’s waters stretched further than the eye could see― not many kingdoms contested this since none of them had the capacity for sea travel like her people did. This was an unchangeable fact for generations, but recently, more and more competitors had tried to compete for their territory.

Santok’s goods washing up to shore could easily be explained― after all, there was a Santok prince living in her palace right now.

"Your Highness!" a royal knight called, saluting when he noticed Cordelia and Jonah approaching.

"Arne," Jonah greeted, nodding. "What have you got?"

"As reported, Sir," Arne replied. "Ten crates of provisions, five crates of weaponry, all of which are from Santok."

"What sort of weapons are there?" Cordelia asked. Her eyebrows were furrowed and she had lost every bit of playfulness in her eyes. Her feet padded in the sand, the soft grains making way for her weight as she stepped through them.

The men had gathered all the crates and tucked them away from plain sight so that curious bodies wouldn’t wander over too easily. They were, however, still in the sand― it would be difficult to move them away so quickly given the short notice.

"Too many for an average traveler," Arne said with a grimace. "Swords, polearms, daggers― You name it, Princess, and it’s there."

Cordelia reached into the crate, picking out a small shiny dagger. Santok’s national crest — a circular shield decorated with a blooming lotus and a coiling dragon — was engraved into the metal. The hilt was also in the shape of a dragon, a red ruby used as the dragon’s eye.

She frowned, twisting the dagger back and forth as she observed the weapon. The image of Nikun expertly throwing the daggers in his match against Mikhail flashed through her mind. Legitimate or not, this prince of Santok was still a very capable fighter, and his weapon of choice seemed to be the most popular choice in this shipment batch.

Jonah’s eyes watched Cordelia’s actions, immediately understanding what she was thinking of as she examined the dagger. He, too, had been warned that there was something fishy going on with this new competition participant. Even without the warning, it seemed oddly convenient that just as Nikun needed a slot, one freed up.

"Have there been any documented Santok vessels traveling through Nedour’s waters in the recent weeks?" Jonah asked. "Or anywhere near the vicinity?"

The crates didn’t look too soaked, and the provisions weren’t rotting too badly just yet. Even the metal of these weapons still retained their shine. It couldn’t have been long since they were cast overboard, their journey to land even swifter.

"None," Arne replied. "There shouldn’t be any during this time either. Santok is currently in a civil war."

"A civil war?" Cordelia asked, frowning. She hadn’t heard of anything like this. "How did you know?"

"My wife was from Santok, Your Highness," Arne said with a bow. "She receives news from her family every few months. It’s supposed to be the election period in a few weeks’ time, and the kingdom is split between the major princes. They cannot come to a decisive vote, and the people have resorted to fighting amongst themselves."

He continued, "The letters stopped coming shortly after that. We suspect that Santok has undergone a lockdown to prevent the news from spreading too quickly."

"Enemies could attack during this moment of weakness," Jonah said with an understanding nod. "It’s fair for them to want to keep the lid on this."

"Then how did their prince escape to our shores?" Cordelia questioned quietly under her breath, turning to look at Jonah. He perfectly heard her every word, and he shook his head.

"He could’ve left before the lockdown came into effect," Jonah suggested. "He was out at sea before Atticus and Daphne fished him out of the water."

"Or he could’ve snuck out," Cordelia reminded.

She placed the dagger back into the crate along with the rest of the weapons, turning her attention to the remaining boxes. They didn’t contain anything too out of the ordinary. Other than the weapons, the rest of the items were what she expected of travelers who were prepped for a long journey. Santok was quite a distance away from Nedour, and Cordelia couldn’t be too sure as well how many followed Nikun on his journey.

"I’ll need one of each weapon variety found in this shipment brought back to the palace for investigations," Cordelia instructed.

"Yes, Princess!" Arne said, before hurrying off to instruct the rest of the knights waiting a distance away.

Once he was out of earshot, Jonah came over to Cordelia’s side.

"Did the blades match the wounds, Your Highness?" he asked, keeping his voice low so that Arne and his men couldn’t hear them converse. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust them, but to be safe, no one should know their actual plans just in case it alerted the killer.

"Daphne froze the body to preserve it," Cordelia said. "It’s time to match the weapons to the wounds."