CHAPTER FOUR #2
Daphne almost laughed. She’d never stolen anything in her life. But Veronica thought she had. Daphne had slept with her ex-boyfriend Alex too soon after their breakup apparently, but Alex had told her they’d been broken up for weeks.
“It was a gift.”
“From who?”
Daphne turned back to the cake. Just then, mercifully, the prince arrived.
The entire ballroom went silent as the door opened to reveal a tall boy with white-blond hair. He was attractive enough, Daphne supposed, although a little thin for her taste. She preferred muscles. The moment she thought it, Kronos flashed through her mind.
The prince walked through the crowd slowly, nodding and bowing to various people.
Behind him was his father, King Augustus, who cut an intimidating figure in a deep green cape.
Something glittered on his chest: a gold snake pin with diamonds for eyes.
Daphne could see the resemblance between father and son clearly, although Maximus’s face held a beauty his father’s did not.
There was something soft and inviting in the curve of his lips, whereas his father’s mouth was a thin, angry slash.
“Our children would be beautiful,” Veronica sighed.
Daphne snorted. “He already has a child.”
“He has a daughter,” Veronica corrected her. “No son yet.” She adjusted her tower of hair fussily. “But I could fix that.”
It was a well-known fact that the prince already had a daughter.
She was less than a year old, and her mother had died during childbirth.
Daphne knew nothing about the woman—no one did.
Maximus’s daughter only made him a more desirable prospect—her existence meant he was fertile, and the fact that he did not yet have a son meant that every woman competing for his hand would be eager to bear him his heir.
There was no expectation that the prince remain chaste before marriage.
In fact, it was expected that he would gain as much experience as possible before this competition in order to make an informed choice.
Daphne found it rather ironic that the prince was rewarded for promiscuity when she was judged for the same.
It was all bullshit. Having a daughter didn’t make Maximus a good person.
Having a daughter meant the prince was capable of ejaculation. Nothing more.
The prince surveyed the crowd, fists clenched at his sides.
He almost looked…angry. Daphne wondered what he had to be angry about.
He lived in a castle. He was rich beyond anyone’s wildest dreams, and he wasn’t half bad to look at.
Her eyes trailed to his father, who looked equally irate.
Perhaps that was the source of his rage.
Fathers tended to have that effect.
Veronica turned, puffing out her chest. “How do my tits look?”
Daphne had to admit they looked glorious; Veronica’s cleavage was arranged into something that could be seen from across the room. Rather than admit this, she said, “Why don’t you ask the prince?”
Veronica smirked. “I intend to.”
Daphne sighed. She needed another drink.
Before Veronica had the chance to expose any more erogenous zones, Daphne left her.
She scanned the ballroom for a server, spotting one almost immediately.
It wasn’t until she was within a few feet of him that she realized she recognized the boy carrying the golden tray.
Her heart stopped in her chest. The room went quiet as her eyes met Benjamin’s.
He sneered. The events of that fateful night just a few days ago flashed immediately through her mind, paralyzing her. Worthless slut.
Benjamin had taken her under the bridge the night before she’d met Kronos.
They’d started at the Horseman, having drinks, making conversation.
Benjamin was someone she’d known from school but never talked to.
But they had certainly talked that night.
It was the most fun Daphne had had in a long time.
He’d complimented her hair; she’d told him she liked his shoes.
They’d talked for hours, closing down the bar and forcing Steve to kick them out.
Only once they’d left had they made their way to the bridge.
They’d even talked on the way there. By the time they reached it, Daphne was thinking perhaps Benjamin was not like the others.
Perhaps he could be more than a drunken fumble beneath the bridge.
“You’re pretty in the dark,” Benjamin had said.
His hands slipped under her dress, skating up her thighs. He bit her earlobe, sucking on it hard. Normally that sort of thing would get Daphne going. But for some reason she wasn’t in the mood that night. For some reason, she wanted something more meaningful. So she’d pushed him gently away.
Benjamin frowned. “What are you doing?”
“I thought we might keep talking,” Daphne said.
He laughed. “Why would we do that?”
“Generally people talk when they want to get to know each other.”
The look on his face told her without a doubt that he had absolutely no intention of getting to know her in any way other than carnally.
Hurt tightened her chest. She’d really enjoyed these last few hours with him.
Boys never talked to Daphne. They only touched her.
They expressed themselves with their fingers, their bodies, their cocks.
Conversation wasn’t something she’d grown used to.
But now that she’d had it, she wanted more of it.
“I…like talking to you,” Daphne said tentatively. “Don’t you like talking to me?”
He gave a huff of annoyance. “Sure. But that’s not what we’re doing here.”
Daphne didn’t bother asking what they were doing there.
“You’ve already fucked half my friends,” Benjamin said. “You’re really not going to fuck me?”
What he claimed was true; she’d fucked half of her own grade and the grade above hers. Whoever Benjamin’s friends were, they were more than likely part of that number.
“I just…thought that we were having a nice time,” she whispered.
He snorted. “Terrance said you were easy. So what the fuck is this?”
A blush rose on Daphne’s cheeks. She remembered Terrance.
He’d fondled her in a booth in the Horseman before fucking her in the alleyway.
They hadn’t even made it to the bridge. Of course he’d told his friend he could do the same.
But Daphne had thought Benjamin was different.
He hadn’t touched her at the bar—he hadn’t even kissed her until now.
It had almost felt like…a date. But now they were under the bridge, where Daphne always ended up, and Benjamin wanted the same thing everyone else wanted from her.
“I don’t want to do what I did with Terrance,” she said as calmly as she could. “I just want to talk.”
“I was promised free pussy. I don’t want to talk to you.”
His breath blew in her face. It smelled like ale and tobacco. Daphne fought the urge to vomit. “Well then why did you spend so much time with me?”
It was a valid question. If he’d gone the route of Terrance, this whole evening would’ve been over long ago. “You were buying.”
He was right, Daphne realized. Benjamin hadn’t bought a single drink all night. It had always been her going back to Steve to get the next round. Why hadn’t she noticed before now?
“I thought—”
“You thought wrong. It was a bet, Daphne. We bet on you. Did you know that?”
Daphne did not know that. But now she did. Now she knew the cruelty of boys, and she wondered what she had done to earn it. “What was the bet?”
She was afraid to hear the answer, but something inside her compelled her to ask, as if by knowing the truth she could protect herself from it.
Benjamin let out a harsh laugh. “We wanted to see who could get the furthest with you.”
“Well,” she whispered. “I guess you lost.”
“Only because you decided to suddenly be a prude.”
“You’re cruel.”
“And you’re pathetic. Why would I want anything else from you? Why would anyone want anything else from you? Everyone knows you’re the village slut.”
He was angry. Daphne could understand it; he’d been promised something, and he wasn’t getting it. But she hadn’t been the one to promise it. Just because he thought he was owed it didn’t mean she had to give it.
“You’re the pathetic one,” she whispered. The words were so quiet she was surprised he heard them.
But his face twisted instantly, and he spat, “Worthless slut. Useless whore.”
With each insult, her heart shattered a little more. Daphne was beginning to wonder whether it would be possible to put the pieces back together. His insults were an assault themselves.
His final jab broke her completely: “You’re nothing but a hole to fuck and a mouth to come in.”
She could think of nothing to say in return.
It didn’t matter anyway; Benjamin was already standing.
Without another word, he stalked off into the darkness.
Daphne stared after him, tears streaming down her cheeks.
This was a different kind of pain than what she was used to from boys.
Benjamin hadn’t hurt her physically—he’d barely even touched her.
To his very base credit, he’d stopped when she’d said no.
It was his words, not his actions, that had cut her like a knife.
Daphne had been called plenty of names in her life and had moved on from them easily. For some reason, Benjamin’s had cut deeper, attacking a part of her she didn’t want to face—a vulnerable part. The part that whispered, He’s right. No one will ever love you. Why would they want to?
Daphne’s inner voice was already cruel enough; she did not need confirmation from Benjamin.