CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN #3
It was the sweetest sound in the world—the most delectable symphony.
He wanted to kiss her on the mouth, to drink her moans like they were water.
Instead he held her tightly—so tightly that he could feel every shudder as it passed through her body, not letting go even when she was once more limp in his arms. They sat there together, breath coalescing in white clouds, the wind snapping at their cheeks.
Without a word, Maximus took the reins once more.
They rode back around the castle in silence, each canter sending a jolt down his still-hard cock.
When they reached the stables, Maximus hopped off before helping Daphne down.
The moment her feet were once more on the ground, she slumped against the horse.
“Daphne?” He leaned in closer, realizing she was pale. “Are you feeling well?”
She shook her head.
“What’s wrong?”
Was it just the cold air? Or did she look rather ill?
“Daphne,” Maximus said desperately. “If I went too far, I apologize. I—I couldn’t help myself. I should have—”
She shook her head, and he cut off. “I’m just…tired,” she said slowly. “I…think.”
Relief swept through him, although it was tentative. “I see.”
He paused, and they looked at each other.
“I…had fun today,” she whispered. “With you.”
He raised his eyebrows. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”
She crossed her arms. Then she shrugged. “It’s not a bad thing. It’s just…not what I expected.”
Maximus decided to take that as a compliment. If she was warming up to him, he would accept any concession of favor. “Shall I take you home?” he offered.
It was the last thing he wanted to do. Yet he knew there was no use trying to get her to stay. He was playing the long game now, and it would require patience—something he was not accustomed to—something that he would gladly learn for her.
“Yes,” she said.
They were just turning to leave when the last person he wanted to see appeared.
“Maximus,” Augustus said. “Come with me.”
“In a moment, Father.”
Augustus gave Daphne a scathing glance from head to toe. She blushed furiously and looked at the ground.
“You will come now.”
Maximus straightened immediately. Without thinking, he wrapped his arm around Daphne’s waist, pulling her against him.
By the grace of Kora, she didn’t pull away.
“Unless someone is dying or being born, there is nothing urgent enough to require my presence right this moment,” he said, surprising himself by how steady his voice was. “So I will come shortly.”
His father’s eyes widened, then narrowed.
A testy silence followed. Maximus knew when his father was close to losing his temper, and he was close to doing so now.
It would not do for Daphne to see Augustus explode.
Maximus didn’t want her to be scared, and he certainly didn’t want her to see him lose his temper at his father in return.
Instead of retaliating, his father merely clenched his jaw, gave Daphne another lingering glance, and turned to leave.
The moment he was gone, Maximus turned to Daphne.
“I’ll see you to a carriage,” he said.
Daphne nodded, her lips pursed.
Maximus walked her to the nearest carriage, holding her hand and helping her inside. “Thank you for a lovely date,” he said as soon as she was seated. “I look forward to the next one.”
She raised her eyebrows. “The next one?”
“Yes,” he said. “If you’ll have me.”
Daphne gave him a small smile. That alone was enough to sustain him. Maximus closed the carriage door, watching until it was out of sight.
His father was waiting in the foyer.
“Follow me,” Augustus said immediately.
“Where are we going?”
“Do not ask questions, Son. I have had enough of your insolence today.”
Maximus sighed. Tonight, of all nights, he wanted to be alone.
He wanted to think about what he’d just done with Daphne—how he had made her body seize with pleasure.
He wanted to touch himself to the memory of it.
But Maximus knew if he did not follow his father willingly, a pair of guards would force him to.
He followed his father into the castle and down the steep, dark staircase that led to the dungeon.
The staircase was freezing—somehow even colder than the air outside—and every breath pierced his lungs like a knife.
By the time they reached the bottom, Maximus was shivering.
His father stopped. They turned to face each other.
“You are aware that we are wealthy,” his father said.
Maximus blinked.
Of course he was aware of that. They were royals, after all. It was a given that they had access to more resources than the average villager. Perhaps times were tougher than they used to be, but they were certainly not wanting for food.
“Yes.”
“Are you aware of how we maintain that wealth?”
Maximus blinked again, trying to understand where this conversation was leading. “From…shipping?”
He’d sat in on enough meetings with merchants to know that his family was heavily involved in importing and exporting. To his surprise, his father shook his head.
“No.”
“Then how do we maintain it?”
In reply, Augustus opened the dungeon door, disappearing inside it. Maximus stared at the looming darkness, completely baffled. He thought of his warm fire upstairs and how much he’d rather be in front of it. He half contemplated actually turning around and leaving.
Before he could do so, he heard “Maximus. Follow me.”
With a sigh, Maximus followed him.
The dungeon was even colder than the staircase and just as dark. A long row of cells disappeared into the distance, each sealed by a wrought iron door. Nothing could have prepared Maximus for what was inside the cells.
Basilisks.
They wore their human forms, but he knew immediately that he looked upon monsters.
Their ethereal beauty was evident even in the dark, their aura chilling Maximus the moment he walked in.
The sight of so many snakes in one place was so shocking that it took him a moment to see the way in which they were kept.
Every single basilisk was shackled to the floor, their hands captured in a tangle of horrible wires that trailed up into the ceiling.
“Father…” Maximus whispered, utterly at a loss for words. “What is this?”
“This is your legacy.”
Maximus stared at the closest basilisk, a blond man with thick wavy hair. He stared at the wires welded to his fingers. If this was his legacy, he wanted no part of it. “I don’t understand.”
His father waited a long moment before speaking. “What do you know of basilisk blood?”
“Nothing.”
Maximus knew nothing about the basilisks beyond the fact that there had been a great war many years ago, and the humans had prevailed. That was the extent of his knowledge of the serpents.
Augustus turned to him. “Listen closely, Son. What I am about to tell you is a secret, passed down from king to king for generations. Nothing I say can leave this room. Do you understand?”
Maximus stared up at his father in disbelief. They’d had many private conversations before, but none of them like this one. Never in the dungeon, far below the castle, surrounded by their mortal enemy.
“I understand.”
His father nodded and gestured to the surrounding cells. “Basilisk blood is a magical substance. It can be alchemized into gold using a process called bloodletting.”
Maximus balked. “What?”
“These snakes”—his father pointed at the nearest basilisk, who didn’t even twitch—“are a source of wealth for us. When food is scarce or we have a particularly long winter, we are able to utilize their blood to pay for goods.”
“I…don’t understand.”
“What don’t you understand?”
“How is this possible? How is this…allowed?”
Augusts let out a harsh laugh. “Everything is allowed, Son. The royals make their own rules.”
Maximus shook his head in an attempt to clear it. This seemed wrong. Understandable but wrong. He knew the basilisks were a terrible threat, that they lurked just beyond the wall, constantly in the periphery, ready to strike. But this…
“I don’t know what to say, Father.”
Maximus was rarely speechless. But the shock of seeing the basilisks captured in such a way was jarring him to his core.
He’d been raised to fear the snakes. Now his father was telling him that there were snakes within the depths of his own castle?
He couldn’t believe he’d been sleeping above this his entire life. “Aren’t they…dangerous?”
His father glanced down at him. “Do they look dangerous to you?”
They did not look dangerous to Maximus. They looked…tortured. Weak. As if to prove this theory, his father walked up to the cell directly in front of them, took a key from the wall, and unlocked it.
Then he turned to Maximus. “Come closer.”