CHAPTER FIVE #3
Maximus sighed. He supposed he was. But not when it came to this.
He couldn’t understand why this ridiculous tradition persevered.
The truce between the basilisks and the humans was made centuries ago—surely there was a better way to maintain relations.
In fact, why maintain relations at all? The humans had defeated the snakes once before.
It must be possible to do so again. If Maximus had his way, he would storm the mountain and wipe them all out in one fell swoop.
It was an order only the king could give, and Maximus was not yet king.
Until then they were stuck with the competition, and Maximus would be stuck with a wife who wasn’t Lilibet.
In the time he’d been considering her question, Daphne had stepped closer.
He watched her warily, much the same way she was watching him.
“Do you think I’m like most royals?” he asked.
Daphne tilted her head, clearly examining him.
Maximus took the time to examine her in return.
Her hair was a wild cascade of curls that engulfed the entirety of her shoulders and continued down her back.
The sheer volume of it was rather impressive.
A smattering of freckles dappled her cheeks, and she wore a blue silk dress that had clearly been tailored to accentuate every angle of her body.
And what a body it was. Maximus couldn’t remember the last time he was so aware of a woman’s figure.
Sometimes he thought that the part of him that noticed beauty died when Lilibet did. But he certainly appreciated it now.
Daphne made him remember that he was a man of flesh and blood—a man who was still capable of desire. He wanted to touch the end of her curls—to pull them and see how tight they would go. He wondered what those curls would look like splayed out over a pillow. Or wrapped around his fist.
“I don’t know yet,” Daphne said finally, shattering his trance.
Yet. That implied that there would be a future in which she would know.
Lilly made a small noise, but didn’t wake. Maximus set her gently back in her crib, arranging her stuffed animals around her. He turned back to Daphne. “Am I to take that as a compliment?”
“I don’t know,” she said again.
He crossed his arms. “If it is not a compliment, then it is an insult.”
She crossed her arms too. “If you say so.”
“You come to my castle, pick up my child, and insult me all in one evening. Am I to feel flattered by this?”
“Decidedly not.”
“Then why bother coming at all?”
Daphne sighed. He heard a weariness in it that matched his own, as if the answer were quite complicated.
“I’m…not here for me.”
“Then who are you here for?”
She pursed her lips. “Someone else.”
He raised his eyebrows. Was she in love with a stable boy or something? “You’re already taken,” he said.
Daphne shook her head. “No, nothing like that. I’m just…not here for me. Or for you, really.”
Now he was truly intrigued. “In truth, I’m not here for you either,” he said quietly. “Or anyone, really.”
Daphne shifted as if she wanted to come closer but then decided against it. “You’re already taken,” she said, repeating his own words.
He looked at Lilly, seeing nothing but her mother.
“Oh,” Daphne said quietly, following his gaze. “I see.”
A moment passed in which they both watched Lilly in her crib.
Then Daphne whispered, “You loved her.”
Maximus looked suddenly at the floor. “Dearly,” he whispered back.
“And…you’re still in love with her. Even though she’s…gone.”
“Yes.”
The word was a devastating oath between them—something Maximus battled daily—a truth he could not bear to face. His father did not accept it. He barely accepted it.
“Then why seek a wife?” Daphne asked. “Why not mourn, and wait until you are ready to marry?”
To her surprise, Maximus laughed. “It’s like you said. The royals enjoy this sort of thing.”
Daphne took a small step closer. She was close enough that he caught her scent, which was clean and light, like a cool breeze.
This woman couldn’t possibly understand how he felt—how painful it was to grieve the death of the mother of his child while actively seeking a new partner.
But the parameters of the competition were absolute: Every prince must go through the elimination process and marry at the age of twenty.
Maximus was bound to the rules the same way Daphne was.
They were just two people caught in a system that did not care about their feelings.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered.
Maximus didn’t reply. He simply stared at the floor while Daphne stared at him. Eventually, he said, “And you?”
“What about me?”
Finally, he looked at her. “Have you ever been in love?”
Something flashed in her eyes. Pain. “No,” she whispered.
Maximus didn’t react to her admission. He had a feeling if he did, she would bolt. Instead he held her gaze, wondering how it was possible that a woman this beautiful had never been in love. Surely, the village boys were falling at her feet.
Daphne straightened suddenly. “I won’t be having sex with you.”
The change in topic was so sudden Maximus almost laughed. “Is that so?”
“Yes. That’s so.”
Mild disbelief coursed through him, followed closely by amusement. “I see. And why not?”
“I don’t want to have sex again until I’m in love.”
“Again?”
“Yes, again. Were you expecting me to be a virgin?”
His eyes slid down her body—slowly—and he knew she saw him do it. “No.”
Her cheeks flushed.
“And why exactly have you made this particular choice?” he asked.
Daphne faltered. She looked suddenly hurt, and Maximus wondered if he’d caused it.
“I just…want to be in love.”
There was a pause, and Maximus let it sit. This girl was truly not what he had expected.
“If you won’t be having sex with me, then I’m afraid we are rather at odds, darling,” he said. “I’m meant to make my decision based on sex.”
“You can still do that,” Daphne said. “It just won’t be based on sex with me.”
Her response irritated Maximus. He needed a drink for this conversation.
Luckily, he kept a stash of wine in pretty much every room in the castle, including his daughter’s nursery.
Sometimes the only good part of his day was sitting in chair next to his daughter’s crib and having a glass while she slept.
He crossed to the cabinet, pulling out a bottle.
“What are you doing?” Daphne asked.
“Drinking.”
“But…” Her eyes slid to Lilly. “Why?”
“Because it has already been a very long evening, and I need it. Don’t you?”
He brandished the bottle at her. After a moment she shrugged. “I suppose so.”
“Good.” Maximus opened the bottle before pouring a hefty glass. He held it out to Daphne. “I assume you don’t mind sharing?”
She didn’t answer. He took that as a no.
“After you,” he said. “Please.”
Daphne raised her hand, taking the glass slowly. He watched as she took a long sip, her head tilting back to expose her throat. He wanted to wrap his hand around it.
“Do you like it?” he asked once she’d swallowed.
“It tastes…expensive.”
“That’s because it is.”
When she handed the glass back, her fingers brushed against his. Her skin was warm—far warmer than it should have been. He lingered for only a moment before taking a sip of his own. Then he handed it back to her.
“Now,” Maximus said once the wine was half gone. “Why don’t you think you could fall in love with me?”
Daphne frowned. “What? Why would you ask me that?”
“Because you won’t have sex with me.”