CHAPTER FORTY #2
“Yes.”
“Hm.”
“Any particular reason?”
His gray eyes slid to hers. “Why do you ask?”
Daphne shrugged. The motion caused the corset to shift under her breasts, and Maximus’s gaze dropped accordingly. “No reason.”
Maximus raised an eyebrow. “Shall we…” he said slowly, his gaze finally returning to hers. “…get drunk together?”
Why not? It might give her the liquid courage to be here. And it would certainly soften Maximus, who she needed to be enamored with her. In response, Daphne signaled for the nearest butler. By the time he reached them, she’d downed the rest of her wine, and she grabbed a new one.
“You’d better be a fun drunk, Max.”
He smiled. “Nobody calls me Max except for you.”
Daphne shrugged. “That’s because everybody else is scared of you.”
Maximus let out an incredulous bark of laughter. “They are not.”
“They are,” Daphne insisted. “And can you blame them?”
“Why would anyone be scared of me?” Maximus asked.
“Because you’re the prince.”
“That’s hardly a position that inspires fear. I’m fairly sure any villager could take me in a fight.”
Daphne was fairly sure of that too but opted not to say so. “They’re not physically scared of you.”
“Then what are they scared of?”
“Your power.”
“In that case, why aren’t you scared of me?”
Daphne shrugged. She had power of her own. “Should I be?”
“No.” He shook his head. “You shouldn’t.”
Daphne doubted that was true.
They watched the ballroom again, although this time the view was spinning slightly. Daphne didn’t care; the wine was soothing her in a way she needed to be soothed. Beside her, Maximus’s foot was tapping to the music. Before she could talk herself out of it, Daphne said, “Shall we dance?”
Without hesitation, Maximus extended his hand to her. Daphne looked down at his palm, not at all surprised that he’d given in so easily. She set her wine aside before taking his hand and following him onto the dance floor.
Maximus spun her out artfully before pulling her against him, moving to the music as if he was born to do so.
He was an excellent dancer; she wondered if he’d taken lessons.
His proximity combined with the wine was making her warm.
Desperate for a distraction, Daphne cast her gaze around the ballroom.
Her eyes landed on Augustus, who was watching them with a scowl on his face. “Your father is staring at us,” she muttered.
“Is he?” Maximus turned them so he was facing the king. “I can’t imagine why.”
“You know exactly why. He doesn’t want you to dance with me.”
“My father doesn’t get to decide who I dance with.”
That much was ultimately clear. But it didn’t make the dark glances from Augustus any more pleasant.
Before she could say anything else, Maximus spun her out again, pulled her close, and dipped her.
There was a sudden rush of air, then utter stillness.
Daphne stared up into his eyes, her head arched back, her neck exposed.
Daphne had never considered Maximus a particularly strong person given his slim build, but now she felt the power in his body as he held her there, suspended, his face mere inches from hers.
She remembered suddenly that they’d both been drinking, that she was unsteady on her feet, that there was an expanse of hard marble beneath her head.
“Don’t drop me,” she whispered.
Maximus held her steadily, his eyes on hers as he whispered back, “Never.”
An instant later, he pulled her upright.
The room spun; the dip had taken her breath away.
The music was changing, slowing into a romantic melody.
Daphne wasn’t used to music like this. There was often singing in the village, but it was drunken songs at the Horseman accompanied by people banging on the tables.
Nothing like these smooth, sensual notes on a piano.
“The music is beautiful,” Daphne said. She didn’t trust herself to say anything else.
“Do you play any instruments?”
Daphne shook her head. “Do you?”
“I play piano.”
That was a surprise to her. “Can you play something like this?”
The question was out before she could stop it. Maximus tilted his head, listening to the melody.
“Yes,” he said. “With some practice.”
When Daphne didn’t reply, he continued.
“Shall I play something for you?”
She didn’t know how to answer that. “Right now?”
“Yes.”
“I—” she started to say, but he was already gone.
Daphne watched in shock as Maximus navigated his way through the crowd until he reached the piano.
He bent down and murmured something in the piano player’s ear.
The piano player nodded, then stood. Maximus took his place on the bench, arranging his fingers over the keys.
Somewhere along the way, the entire ballroom had fallen silent, watching him.
Maximus cleared his throat, looked straight at Daphne, and said: “This is for you.”
Then he began to play.
It was even more beautiful than what the man before him had played.
Maximus’s melody was prolonged and emotional, and Daphne could clearly see he was playing from his heart.
It wasn’t a song she recognized. Yet it felt familiar.
When the prince stopped, the silence remained.
Everyone was looking at Maximus, but Maximus was only looking at her.
He stood, crossing to Daphne and pulling her back into his arms. The band started again seamlessly, a new song already swelling by the time they were dancing again.
“That was beautiful,” Daphne said.
“I wrote it for you.”
The thought made her feel…warm. And undoubtedly guilty.
There was no doubt that the person Daphne thought of when she heard such a beautiful, romantic song was not the person who had played it for her.
Was she truly doing the right thing? Maximus was a person too—a man of flesh and bone.
He had a heart just like her. A heart that would be broken if he ever found out just how deeply she was involved with Kronos.
“Max…” Daphne murmured.
“You don’t need to say anything.”
“But I want to—”
“Daphne,” he cut her off, stopping them both on the dance floor. “I don’t need you to feel the way I feel. In fact I’m pretty sure you don’t.”
“Max, I—”
“But that doesn’t change the fact that I care about you. And it doesn’t mean I’m going to stop expressing it.”
Daphne looked at the floor. Then the ceiling. Anywhere but him.
“I understand you think there is an insurmountable distance between us. But my heart beats no differently than yours. It does not matter to me where you come from, nor do I care who you were involved with in your past.”
The past? Was that supposed to refer to Kronos? He was not in the past. He never would be.
“If we are to have a future, I wish for us to approach it on equal ground,” Maximus finished quietly.
What could she say to such an admission? It was the second confession of feelings she’d received in as many days. If Daphne had known this was what happened when Maximus drank, she never would have suggested it. She respected his honesty, but they had no future. Even if he wanted them to.
“You’re supposed to be a prat,” she whispered. “You’re not supposed to say things like that.”
He raised his hand to her face. “Is it possible you’ve underestimated me?” he whispered.
“Anything is possible.”
Technically it was true, but she hardly meant it. Now that she’d seen what Kronos had done for her—how he had conducted himself during the Ranking, risking his entire future for her—the prince could only pale in comparison.
“In that case,” Maximus said quietly, “will you move into the castle?”
Daphne already knew her answer, and the prince did too. It did not matter that his feelings were genuine while hers were not—that was her burden to bear. She was here for a reason, and she would not falter now. So she whispered, “Yes.”
He pulled her closer. “The ceremony will happen shortly,” he murmured. “Then I must meet with my father. Can I…call on you after?”
Daphne’s heart hammered in her chest. The wine was going to her head. How far was she willing to take this? Before she could answer, she heard clink clink clink.
Everyone in the ballroom turned. Three podiums had been assembled at the end of the room, arranged in ascending heights. Augustus stood beside them, a knife and a glass in his hand.
“Would the remaining ladies please gather around?”
Daphne couldn’t seem to move. Maximus’s grip tightened on her waist as he pulled her toward the podiums. She still hadn’t answered his question.
Maximus left her at the end of the line of women. There were only four of them left.
“My son and I are grateful for our family and friends who have joined us tonight,” Augustus continued. “The rest of the elimination process will take place in the castle, once the final three women move in. As soon as my son has chosen his future wife, we will have a wedding.”
The crowd cheered.