CHAPTER FORTY-SIX
Maximus
You sent for me?”
Maximus turned to see Daphne standing in the doorway of the study.
He’d sent for her after spending the day in here working aimlessly, thinking about what they’d done the night before, hoping she would allow him to do it again.
A glance at her neck made him frown. Maximus could have sworn that his teeth left a mark.
But the emerald necklace was nowhere to be found, and her skin was smooth and unblemished. How had she healed so quickly?
“Yes,” he said. “You should know that I had my butler fire Benjamin.”
Daphne raised her eyebrows.
Before she could reply, Maximus said, “I thought we might spend some time together today.”
Daphne regarded him carefully, as if she was thinking hard about something. Her gaze fell to the basilisk skull that rested on a velvet cushion. Was it his imagination, or did she look uncomfortable?
“It’s a family heirloom,” Maximus explained. “My father passed it to me, and I will pass it to my son.”
The skull loomed at them. Daphne still did not reply.
“Would you care for a drink?” he asked when the silence lingered.
She shook her head. “I can’t.”
He raised an eyebrow. “And why not?”
Daphne immediately bit her lip, as if she regretted saying that. Maximus crossed his arms. She was acting strangely; he could not understand it.
“Daphne,” he said. “Are you feeling well?”
Her gaze flicked to his. She certainly looked well. Her cheeks had a healthy flush, her eyes were bright. The sickly paleness of the past few days was gone from her face. But there was something in her expression that he could not identify—an intensity she hadn’t possessed last night.
“Daphne,” he said again. “Is there something on your mind?”
She crossed her arms. “Yes.”
“Will you tell me what it is?”
“Only if you tell me something in return.”
Maximus straightened. An exchange. He could handle that. “What do you wish to know?”
Now Daphne paused. “Well… It’s more of something I want to see, actually.”
Whatever she wanted to see, Kora knows he would show it to her. “In that case, what do you wish to see?”
Her eyes narrowed as she spoke two words into the space between them. “The dungeon.”
Maximus wondered whether his shock showed on his face. He masked it as quickly as he could—a long-honed talent of his, necessary growing up with Augustus as his father.
“Why would you want to see the dungeon?” Maximus asked, his voice too casual, his tone too light.
Daphne drew herself up fully, looking him directly in the eye. “You know exactly why.”
What in Kora’s name was going on? Did she…know? But that was impossible. There was no way Daphne could know what happened in the dungeon. Maximus himself had not known until recently. Who could have told her?
Before he could follow this train of thought to completion, Daphne spoke again.
“Maximus,” she said sharply. “Show me.”
Now he was the one who straightened, drawing himself up to his full height, staring down at her like the future king he truly was. “Very well,” he said. “I will show you. But I cannot guarantee you will like what you see.”
“Just take me there. Right now.”
Without a word, Maximus offered his hand. Without a word, Daphne took it.
They exited the study together, walking quickly through the castle, going ever lower. Maximus led her down every single dank, dark stair, his heart growing heavier with every moment that passed. A reckoning was coming. He was sure of it. By the time they reached the bottom, Daphne was shivering.
“Here we are,” Maximus said rather uselessly.
“Open the door.”
Maximus took a key from the wall, turned it in the lock, and pushed the door open.
Immediately, a chill seeped into his bones.
He remembered the first time he’d been here—how disturbing the sight of the imprisoned basilisks was.
Even now, it shocked him. For some reason, Daphne didn’t look shocked.
She looked…sad. He watched her as she examined the cells, her eyes traveling from one basilisk to the next, taking in their slumped forms and the twisted wires.
Daphne turned to Maximus. “How can you let this happen?”
Maximus frowned. He found it odd that she hadn’t asked what the wires were for. “It is my father’s doing,” he said.
“It will be your doing as soon as you become king.”
Maximus opened his mouth, then closed it. Why were they here? Why was she confronting him about this? And how did she know? “I am not king yet,” he said.
“And once you are?”
He had no answer for her. He did not want this horrible practice to continue; he knew in his heart that it was wrong.
But to reject it would be to reject his family’s legacy, and there would be no going back from that.
Now that he was faced with actually choosing a side, he found it difficult to do so. Daphne spoke before he could.
“This is wrong, Max.”
“I know. But…it’s tradition.”
“Some tradition.”
Maximus bristled. He wished she would stop looking at him like that, as if he were a criminal. This wasn’t how today was supposed to go. He didn’t want to be arguing with Daphne. He wanted to be kissing her.
“This is just the way things are done, Daphne,” he said desperately, barely believing the words himself. “There is no point in changing it. Animals belong in cages.”
“They’re not animals.”
Indignation swept through him. He remembered the letters Kronos had written her, the foul things he said he wanted to do to her. That was certainly the behavior of an animal.
“That may be the case, but they are not our equals either. You are naive if you think they are.”
Her eyes narrowed. Something irreparable was breaking between them. He could feel it shattering, destroying everything that was just beginning to form.
“And you,” said Daphne clearly, “are a coward.”
Anger rippled through him. “I am the future king.”
She shook her head. “Then you will be no king of mine.”
Maximus stiffened. How dare she question him? The bloodletting may be a terrible practice, but it was the reason his family was in power—the reason the villagers had food during difficult times. “I am doing what is right for my people.”
“I can’t believe you knew about this and didn’t tell me.”
Maximus let out an incredulous laugh. “You can’t believe I knew about this? How do you know about it, Daphne? What happens in this dungeon is not common knowledge, darling.”
As soon as he said it, Maximus realized that he didn’t actually need her to answer. In his heart, he already knew how she knew about this.
“Your basilisk told you, didn’t he?” he whispered. “That snake confided in you.”
Daphne didn’t reply. She didn’t have to. It was the only logical conclusion, and Maximus knew without confirmation that it was the correct one.
“What else has he told you, Daphne?” he asked, his eyes narrowing. “What secrets does that monster whisper in your ear?”
Daphne crossed her arms. “Don’t speak to me that way.”
He hated that he was hurting her. But the thought of her sharing an intimacy with the basilisk that she did not share with him made Maximus want to punch something.
He took a deep breath, trying to control himself.
Daphne was sensitive. If he was going to steer things back in the correct direction, he had to be careful with his words.
This was not the time to lose his temper. That would come later.
“Daphne,” he began slowly. “If we are to have a future together, it starts with honesty. I have shown you the dungeon, as you requested. I did not do so to upset you—I did so because I want you to know every part of me.”
She was still crossing her arms, still regarding him suspiciously.
“There is nothing you could ask for that I wouldn’t give you, Daphne.”
At that, she softened—almost imperceptibly. Maximus seized the opening, stepping forward and taking her face in his hands.
“Last night was one of the best nights of my life,” he said in a rush, eager to get the words out. “I want every night to be like that. I know you don’t trust me. But if you give me the chance, I will never betray you. I will take care of you. I will protect you.”
Something flashed in her eyes. Fear? Doubt? Temptation? It was difficult to tell. She was a closed book—a mystery to him. She always had been.
“Constance is the better match,” she whispered. “You know she is.”
Maximus shook his head again. Couldn’t she tell how good they were together? How well they fit? They were perfect. She was perfect.
“I feel nothing for Constance.” Except perhaps ambivalence. Which was worse than nothing.
“Your father—”
“My father has nothing to do with this.”
His grip tightened on the back of her neck. Maximus was so close to getting what he wanted. He was holding it in his hands. Yet somehow she was still slipping away.
“So you can deny your father’s wishes for me but not for them?”
It took Maximus a moment to realize who she was referring to. The snakes.
What did he expect her to do? He couldn’t just free the basilisks, as much as she might want him to. There would have to be a proper procedure to it—a method that did not incite war. And if he was going to do that, he could not do it without her.
“Daphne,” he said, drawing her even closer. Her brown eyes were wide, staring into his. “This is not about them. I want us to be together. Don’t you?”
She stared back at him, unblinking. His hands were still around her face, his fingers threaded in her hair.
He breathed her in, savoring the scent of the sea, suddenly terrified that it was the last time she would let him get close enough to do so.
Without thinking, Maximus leaned in. He pressed his lips to her face, tracing her cheek first down toward her mouth, then up to the hollow beneath her eye.
“Daphne.” He clamped his hand underneath her jaw. “You can’t tell me you haven’t imagined a future with me. Tell me you’ve thought about us.”
An eternal moment passed. Maximus was quite sure time had stopped altogether by the time she whispered, “I have.”
She was being honest—he could tell by the way it seemed to pain her to say it.