CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE
Daphne
Kronos,” Daphne murmured, their lips inches apart, their bodies still intertwined on his bed. “What happens now?”
He sighed, his great shoulders rising and falling. They both knew her question was bigger than just what would happen next.
Daphne needed to know what was going to happen to them.
“You must win the competition, Daphne.”
“And after that?”
They’d never discussed a future together.
Things were supposed to go a certain way: The prince would choose Daphne, and Kronos’s rank would rise as a result.
But even if everything went perfectly to plan—even if Kora chose to pass the power to Kronos and Augustus called off the wedding, Maximus now wanted a wedding. Things were not as they had been.
“If I win the competition,” she continued quietly. “Maximus will expect me to marry him.”
Kronos frowned. “That is not what you told me before. You said that you and the prince have an arrangement.”
“He expects…more now,” she whispered.
Kronos clenched his jaw. “Then he is not a man of his word.”
Daphne had nothing to say to that. She didn’t think Maximus was a bad person—she knew he hadn’t gone back on his word maliciously. He was simply following his heart. Daphne was endeavoring to do the same.
“He cannot have more,” Kronos said. “He cannot have you.”
Something in his tone chilled Daphne. She hadn’t meant for the conversation to go in this direction—for him to get upset. It was a horrible contrast to the pleasure they had just shared.
“I don’t want to be with him,” she said as steadily as she could. “I want to be with you.”
Kronos met her eye. “You cannot understand how it feels to know he wants you the way I do. It aches, Daphne”—he pressed his palm against his chest, over the Y-shaped scar—“right here.”
Tears filled her eyes. Kronos had never expressed anything like that to her before. Daphne had assumed he was ambivalent—at a minimum tolerant—of her connection with Maximus. She thought he viewed her relationship with the prince as Daphne did: a means to an end.
“I only stayed with him for so long because you asked me to,” Daphne whispered. “I did it for you. For…us.”
Kronos leaned in, and she saw pain in his eyes. “That does not mean it has been easy to bear. He is not worthy of you, Daphne. No one is—not even myself.”
“Kronos—”
But Kronos was not done. His next words came out in an avalanche.
“I cannot stand the thought of you with him. If I ever see you together, I will commit an act of violence. You are so much better than him. You are radiant. He does not deserve to breathe your air, nor to be in your presence. Men like him are not men at all—they are cowards. No matter what he has promised you, it is a lie. No matter what he says he will give you, I will give you more. He is unworthy of your love. He is unworthy of your body and your time and your attention. You cannot let him have what he wants, Daphne. And if he tries to take it anyway, I will kill him.”
Daphne stared at him in shock. “Are you saying,” she whispered, “you want me to leave the competition?”
Silence fell. They looked at each other in the dim firelight. Not two minutes ago he’d told her she needed to win. Everything he’d just said went completely against that.
“If you marry him,” he said slowly, “you will accept far less than you deserve.”
Daphne couldn’t argue. What he said was true.
And she did not want to marry Maximus; she did not want to live in Lilibet’s shadow and raise Lilibet’s daughter.
The day Lilibet died was the day Maximus’s life had changed forever.
His center of gravity had shifted; he would forever hold the mother of his child on a pedestal.
If Daphne married him, she would always be his second choice.
Perhaps a month ago, that would have been enough for her.
But it was not enough now. Now she wanted to be someone’s first choice.
She wanted to be someone’s Lilibet. Kronos had taught her that she deserved as much.
“I know,” she whispered.
Even such an admission was progress in and of itself. Before Kronos, Daphne would have accepted that no one would ever choose her first. But he had made her believe otherwise. Kronos was the one who had taught her that she was worthy—that she mattered.
“Daphne,” he said slowly. “Even if you won the competition, it would not guarantee anything.”
“What do you mean?”
“Kora must choose to pass along the power. If she does not, it will remain with the current Serpent King.”
Daphne remembered now. Even if Kronos held the highest rank, it did not mean he would gain the throne. “What are you saying?”
“I am saying,” he whispered, “it may be time for both of us to make a choice.”
Daphne thought of what Kronos had told her back when they were only beginning: It would cost me something to be with you. How far they had come since then. Perhaps they were both willing to pay the price.
Daphne opened her mouth, but before she could speak, the door to Kronos’s chambers flew open. She barely had time to be surprised at the interruption before her stomach twisted as she saw who had entered. Caspenon.
“Kronos,” the son of the Serpent King said. “I must speak with you.” His eyes fell to Daphne’s. They widened, then narrowed. She expected him to tell her to leave, but to her utter bewilderment he said, “Good. You are both here.”
Kronos looked as surprised as Daphne felt. “What is the meaning of this?”
Caspenon straightened his shoulders. “Your rank has risen. It has surpassed mine.”
Kronos frowned. His eyes flicked to Daphne’s. “How?”
Caspen crossed his arms. “I was hoping you would tell me.”
“Did the prince make his choice?”
Daphne shook her head. “Unless he chose Constance—”
“He did not choose Constance,” Caspen said.
Kronos looked at him. “How do you know?”
“My vial is still red. They are all still red.”
Daphne frowned. “What does that mean?”
Kronos turned to her. “The blood in the vial of the basilisk whose student wins the competition will turn black the moment the prince chooses a wife. If all the vials are still red, it means he has not yet proposed.”
Of course he hadn’t yet proposed. Daphne was sitting right here.
“The Ranking is over, and the prince has yet to choose his queen,” Caspenon continued as if there were no interruption. “So tell me. How is it that your rank surpassed mine?”
Kronos stared at Caspen. Eventually, his gaze returned to Daphne. Only one thing had happened since the Ranking—one thing that could possibly have given Kronos a significant amount of power. The very thing they had just done.
For a moment, the three of them sat in silence. Daphne still wasn’t sure why Caspenon was here, what purpose his presence could possibly serve. She was too afraid to ask. So she simply looked between the two men, waiting until one of them spoke. Eventually, Caspenon did.
“My father means to cause you harm.”
Kronos’s hand went protectively to Daphne’s waist. “How?”
“I do not know. But he thinks Kora will pass the power. If your rank remains above mine…” He trailed off, the meaning of his words hanging between them.
“She may pass it to me,” Kronos finished quietly.
Caspenon nodded. “If that happens, I believe you are in danger. I thought you deserved the courtesy of a warning.”
Kronos frowned. “I am a Seneca,” he said. “Why would you warn me?”
“Because I am not my father,” Caspenon said simply.
It was the only explanation he provided, and it was clear to Daphne that it was the only explanation necessary. The moral compass she had sensed in Caspenon was fully formed now. She couldn’t explain how, but she knew they could trust him.
Kronos stood.
“Where are you going?” Daphne asked.
“I must see my vial for myself.”
Caspenon frowned. “I assure you it has risen.”
“I did not say I did not believe you,” Kronos said. “I said I wished to see it for myself.”
Caspenon pursed his lips. “Very well. I shall take you.”
“I want to come,” Daphne insisted.
“No,” both Caspenon and Kronos said at the same time.
Daphne crossed her arms. “And why not?”
Kronos turned to her. “The prince will be expecting you.”
It was all he said, yet Daphne knew what he meant. Kronos’s words flashed through her mind: It may be time for both of us to make a choice. Daphne was ready to make hers.
Before she could say anything else, another familiar face appeared in Kronos’s doorway.
“Brother?” Agnes said, her eyes flicking over Caspenon, then Kronos, then Daphne. “What are you doing?”
“Nothing, Agnes. Leave us.”
Agnes crossed her arms. “Father is roaming about looking murderous and Apollo is doing the same. Mother is nowhere to be found, and you are in here scheming. I demand to know what is happening with our family.”
“I am not scheming,” snapped Caspenon. “I am having a private discussion, which you are interrupting.”
“The door was open. That is hardly private.”
“Agnes.”
“Caspy,” she whined. “You never let me be a part of anything.”
Caspenon shook his head in exasperation. “Leave us, Agnes,” he said again.
“But I—”
“I’m leaving too, Agnes,” Daphne said gently, eager to keep the peace. “You could walk me out.”
Everyone looked at her. Caspenon was clearly against this plan, yet Daphne knew he also wanted Agnes to leave him alone.
“I would love to walk you out,” Agnes chirped.
Without waiting another moment, Daphne stood.
Caspenon pointed at his sister. “Do not go beyond the wall,” he said sternly.
Agnes gave him a mock salute. Then she turned to Daphne. “Shall we?”
Daphne pulled on her dress before looking back at Kronos. It seemed wrong to leave him like this—after everything they had just shared.
“I will see you soon,” he said quietly.
Daphne nodded, cast one last glance at Caspenon, then followed Agnes into the passageway.
They walked together, Agnes chattering the entire way.
Daphne had a million things on her mind and barely listened to a single thing she said.
It wasn’t until they reached the wall that Agnes drew her into a tight embrace.
When she pulled away, her eyes went wide.
“Daphne,” she gasped. “Forgive me, I did not know.”
“Did not know what?”
A tiny line appeared between Agnes’s eyebrows. She tilted her head, clearly surprised at the question. She extended her hand toward Daphne’s body but stopped before she made contact. As a flash of warmth bloomed just below Daphne’s belly button, Agnes told her, “You are pregnant.”