CHAPTER SIX
Daphne
Daphne parted ways with Maximus after they finished the bottle of wine.
He’d gone back to the ballroom; she’d gotten a carriage to the Horseman. Considering their arrangement, there was no point in her staying for the duration of the evening.
“Babe,” a familiar voice cooed. “Back early, are we?” Ella was one year older than her and had been her best friend since grade school. “How’d it go with the prat?” she asked as Daphne slid into their favorite booth.
“He’s not a prat.”
“He’s a prince, isn’t he? Same difference.”
Daphne didn’t refute her. From what she’d just learned of Maximus, he was hardly a prat. She didn’t know what he was, but she certainly didn’t know how to explain that to Ella. “How’s Gabe?” she asked instead.
“Cherubic. And loud.”
Ella’s son, Gabriel, was only a few months old.
The boy was a golden-haired angel, just like his mother.
Ella was no longer with Gabriel’s father, Nathan, but that didn’t stop them from having an amicable co-parenting relationship.
Daphne envied their dynamic and wished her own parents could have managed something similar.
Instead, she and her mother had been left to fend for themselves.
Every moment spent with her best friend healed her like a salve, and one beer later, she was giggling without a care in the world.
“Tell me honestly,” Ella said, leaning closer, her cheeks flushed. “What’s it like to fuck a basilisk?”
Daphne shook her head. “I didn’t fuck him.”
“Why the hell not? Wasn’t he hot? Basilisks are supposed to be drop-dead gorgeous.”
Daphne blushed. Kronos was certainly hot and then some. He was the hottest man she’d ever seen, if he could even be considered a man. “Yes,” she admitted. “He was gorgeous.”
“You say that like it’s the worst thing he could be.”
“It is the worst thing he could be. I don’t want a cock in my pussy again until I’m in love, and that’s who I have to resist?”
Ella let out an unrestrained snort. “You what?”
Daphne crossed her arms defensively. She hadn’t yet told her best friend what happened with Benjamin, nor had she mentioned the resolution that came out of it.
Daphne didn’t know whether she’d kept it a secret out of shame or fear of judgment, or both.
She knew Ella supported her, but this felt different somehow.
Given her lifestyle up until now, it might seem like a rash decision.
And perhaps it was. But just because it was rash didn’t mean it wasn’t necessary.
“I want to be in love the next time I fuck someone,” she insisted. “Is that so wrong?”
“No, it’s not wrong,” Ella said slowly. “It’s just not…you.”
Daphne held herself tighter. For some reason, Ella’s words hurt.
“Hey,” Ella said quickly, leaning in. “I didn’t mean that as an insult, I promise. I just mean… You’re not exactly picky when it comes to men.”
Daphne couldn’t argue with the truth. But Benjamin’s words had changed her. She would be picky from now on. Even if that meant resisting Kronos. Or Maximus. Or both.
“Can I ask what prompted this change?” Ella asked quietly.
Daphne knew that tone. Ella was being careful, skirting around the edges of what she really wanted to say. Ella knew Daphne well enough to know that something seismic must have occurred.
“Benjamin happened,” Daphne whispered.
Ella raised her eyebrows. She leaned even closer. “The asshole with the mullet? Isn’t he a server at the castle?”
Daphne nodded.
“What did he do, Daph?” Ella continued, her voice rising an octave. “Did he hurt you? I swear to Kora if he forced himself on you, I’ll fucking kill him.”
“No.” Daphne shook her head quickly. “It wasn’t like that. He just…said some…things.”
Worthless slut. Useless whore. Nothing but a hole to fuck and a mouth to come in.
Ella fell silent, clearly waiting for elaboration. But Daphne wasn’t ready to give it. It felt too painful to repeat the words.
“It doesn’t matter.” Daphne shrugged, reaching for her glass.
“Of course it matters if it hurt you this badly,” Ella insisted.
Daphne took a long sip of beer. She wished this conversation would be over. “He’s an idiot anyway.”
“Well, that’s a given. All men are idiots.”
She smiled a little at that. “The point is, I’m not having sex with Kronos.”
“Kronos?”
“The basilisk.”
“Wow. Even his name is hot.”
Daphne sighed. It truly was.
“Let me know if you change your mind about me killing Benjamin.” Ella winked at her. “I can think of a million ways to do it. Starting with yanking off his cock and making him eat it.”
Daphne dared to smile. Ella always made her feel better and vice versa. Neither of them had partners in their lives; they had to be that for each other. And Daphne wouldn’t have it any other way.
“So if you’re not having sex until you’re in love…” Ella began, tilting her head in contemplation. “I guess you’re not going to fuck the prince either.”
Daphne thought about the conversation she’d had with Maximus—the deal they’d struck. “That’s the plan.”
“Hm.”
“Hm? That’s all you have to say?”
Ella shrugged, her mouth quirking up at the corner. “I’m just imagining Benjamin’s face if you won the competition. You’d be queen, and he’d be serving you drinks on a tray.”
Daphne sighed. It was a tempting scenario, to be sure.
But it wasn’t worth straying from her goal.
If everything went to plan, there would be no wedding.
“Who would want to be queen anyway?” she said.
“It’s just a bunch of rules and dinner parties and expectations and itchy outfits. Sounds terrible to me.”
Ella rolled her eyes. “Oh, don’t do that.”
“Do what?”
“Don’t pretend you’re too good to want to be queen. Every woman wants that. And you may not want to admit it, but the prince is hot too.”
Daphne stared down at her beer. She pictured Maximus’s slim frame, his blond hair.
She saw the visage of the royals she’d been taught her whole life to worship—the sharp cheekbones and the gold incisors.
She saw power. Then she remembered who he really was.
The royals were not people to be admired or revered—they were people to be doubted and criticized.
There weren’t enough attractive qualities he could possess that would erase that.
To soften toward Maximus would be to think uncritically.
And Daphne could never do that. Maximus was attractive, it was true.
But he paled in comparison to the beautiful creature she’d met in the caves.
Even now, with the bustle of the Horseman around her, Daphne could only think of one face, and it wasn’t the prince’s.
She thought about Kronos’s searing eyes, golden and shining in the darkness.
She wished she were looking into those eyes right now.
“The prince is…complicated. I don’t know what to think of him.”
“Complicated? How can someone who grew up in a castle be complicated? He’s had everything he’s ever wanted. He’s probably spoiled rotten.”
Again, Daphne did not reply. There was one thing Maximus wanted, and he would never have it again.
Perhaps he had been spoiled before Lilibet, but not after.
Her death had changed him. Perhaps that kind of tragedy had made him a different person, and it was that person who had proposed an arrangement with Daphne tonight.
“Enough about me,” she said, opting to change the subject. “Are you ready to watch the Showing?”
Ella rolled her eyes. “Please. I’d rather stick a fork in my eye than watch the Showing.”
Daphne felt the same. Unfortunately for her, she would be participating in the Showing.
It was a time-honored tradition in which all eligible women who took part in the competition demonstrated their commitment to the prince by sleeping overnight in the town square.
Any contender who didn’t make it until dawn was automatically eliminated.
It was a way to show your dedication to the prince.
It was antiquated, ridiculous, and most important of all, freezing.
Yet it was also important. The Showing was a pivotal event; it would allow the prince to publicly cast his favor.
Traditionally, everyone in the village watched, which included Ella.
At least Daphne would have a friend there.
“How do you think I feel?” she shot back.
“Weak with anticipation, no doubt.”
Daphne snorted. “If I were dumber, perhaps.”
“Unfortunately, you are burdened by critical thought.”
“Unfortunately, you are right.”
“A tragedy, truly.”
“Of the worst sort.”
“Is there a cure?”
“Not that I’ve found.”
“Shame.”
“Shame,” Daphne agreed. “But we soldier on.”
“Indeed we do.”
Her best friend stood, gathering her coat in her arms. “I’ve got to get to Gabe. Will I see you soon?”
“You will,” said Daphne.
“In that case, have a good night. And don’t be so hard on yourself, all right, Daph?”
Daphne sighed. It was easy for Ella—someone who was the human embodiment of optimism—to say something like that. But for Daphne, someone who was prone to melancholy and nihilism, there was no more difficult task.
“I’ll try,” she said.
Ella swept forward, kissing her on the cheek. “That’s all I ask.”
Then she was gone.
Daphne had two more beers at the Horseman before finally heading home.
By the time she reached her cottage, she was swaying harder than wheat in a field.
When she stood before her bed at last, the room was spinning so much she almost didn’t see the bouquet of flowers propped between her pillows.
It was only when she nearly face-planted into it that she realized it was there, and only once she’d detangled herself from the stems that she realized it was accompanied by a bottle of dark red wine and a handwritten note.
Daphne squinted at it to decipher the spiky script.
Daphne,
To an opportune partnership.
—Max
Shock passed through her, followed immediately by tentative curiosity.
Why would he send her flowers and wine? Daphne couldn’t fathom how he knew where she lived, much less had gotten them here so quickly, although she supposed he had any number of errand boys available to do his bidding.
She stared at the bottle of wine. It had the same label as the one they’d drank in Lilly’s nursery—the one he’d said was expensive.
It was an outrageously generous thing to give someone he barely knew.
Then again, such a gift was worth much less to Maximus than it was to Daphne.
He could give away dozens of bottles of wine if he so chose. Such was his privilege.
Daphne considered the man she’d met tonight: arrogant, angry, heartbroken.
Her own circumstances were not much better.
She had to go through the elimination process and keep her promise to Kronos.
If you will not fuck him, you must find another way to win.
She was a woman of her word. It was why she’d said yes to Maximus, even if it had scared her more than anything else she’d ever done.
But what if these flowers and wine weren’t a gift at all?
Perhaps they were a promise—an anchor linking them together.
Daphne had to admit that she’d been incredulous of his intentions, regardless of how sincere he’d seemed in the moment.
But this solidified them for her. They were really doing this.
Unable to keep her eyes open any longer, Daphne passed out with the note in her hand, the wine cradled against her chest. Tomorrow she would face the Showing.