CHAPTER FIFTY-FIVE
Daphne
Daphne would bear the guilt for this for the rest of her life.
She knew she would relive this moment in her nightmares: the sound of Agnes’s neck as it broke, the sight of her body as it fell into her brother’s arms. As soon as Caspenon was occupied, the guards managed to get his guest into the first carriage.
Daphne could hear her screaming from here.
She thought Caspenon might go after her, but he didn’t.
He only held his sister tighter, tears streaming down his cheeks.
His brother stood beside him, staring at Agnes in shock before lunging at the basilisk who had bitten her.
He transitioned midair, sinking his fangs into the basilisk’s neck with terrible finality.
When he transitioned back, his gaze shifted to the departing carriage. He didn’t go after it either.
Instead he knelt beside Caspenon and said something in his ear. The brothers both stood, carrying Agnes between them.
Daphne watched as they passed through the door in the wall, disappearing beyond it.
She clawed herself upright, forcing herself to her feet. Caspenon was out of this fight; if she did not help Kronos, no one would. The rest of the basilisks were leaving too—their job was done; they had delivered their charges.
Now that Caspenon and his brother were gone, the only basilisk left to corral was Kronos.
Four palace guards restrained him. The hands that weren’t on him held roosters.
Every time they crowed, he flinched. The prince stood to the side, his hands at his sides, his narrow face dappled with starlight.
Maximus smiled cruelly. He looked down at Daphne. “Shall I allow you to have your last words with each other?”
Allow.
The word was a knife in Daphne’s heart.
Last words.
Those were even worse.
Maximus snapped his fingers and the guards forced Kronos to his knees.
Immediately, Daphne fell to her knees too, taking his face in her hands.
She didn’t care that Maximus was watching—she wouldn’t have cared if the entire world was watching.
She looked only at Kronos, staring at his beautiful face—the face she had loved since the moment she saw it.
“Kronos.”
He smiled. There was blood on his teeth. “Daphne.”
“I’m so sorry.”
“As am I,” he whispered.
“Can’t you transition?” she whispered. “Can’t you try?”
A rooster crowed, and he flinched. “I cannot.” He shook his head.
They were outnumbered anyway. Maybe if Caspenon were still here—maybe if Agnes hadn’t—
But that thought was too painful. It hurt Daphne’s heart when she knew it was only about to hurt even more.
Kronos looked into her eyes. “You never solved my riddle,” he whispered.
“What riddle?”
“What cannot be touched but can be broken?”
Daphne remembered how she’d teased him for speaking in riddles. She shook her head. “I don’t know.”
He smiled again. It didn’t reach his eyes. “A promise.”
Daphne thought of the little glass bottle on her dresser. A piece of his home. She thought of all the promises he had made her, the ones he would not be able to keep.
“You were supposed to take me to the sea,” she whispered. “Remember?”
“I remember.”
“You promised.”
“I know.”
The tears fell.
They were out of time. Perhaps they always had been.
Perhaps, despite the magnitude of their love for each other, they were not supposed to spend their lives together.
All this time, Daphne had wished for love and now that she had it, she could not imagine a crueler fate.
Kronos’s words came back to her suddenly: Love is not pain. The absence of the person you love is.
This was pain indeed.
“Kronos,” she gasped. “You can’t leave me. I’m—I’m—”
But the words wouldn’t come. She could not tell him like this—not here, in front of Maximus.
She would not give the prince the privilege of witnessing such a private moment.
It may even be dangerous to tell him. Kronos was a protector—a provider.
He would try to fight the guards for her; he would probably get himself killed.
Her child was going to grow up without a father either way—Daphne would not allow him to die for it.
“Daphne,” Kronos said calmly, his fierce eyes holding hers. “I wish to thank you.”
“For what?”
“For bringing me back to life. I was alone before you. My quiver was my only home. Now you are my home.”
Daphne pulled him closer, pressing her forehead against his. Snow fell around them, flakes catching in their eyelashes.
“I should be thanking you,” she whispered. “You gave me everything I have.”
Somehow it was true—he had given her so much: confidence, security, even a child of her own. Kronos had shown her she was worthy of true love. He’d given her everything she’d ever wanted. And now it was being taken away.
“It is you who gave me everything,” he said. “You have made my very long life worth living. You taught me to be selfless—to place someone’s happiness above mine. And it was a pleasure to do so, Daphne. Every single moment with you has been an extraordinary pleasure.”
She brushed her fingertips over his cheeks, tracing down to his lips.
“Hope had no name before you,” Kronos continued. “I will love you until I am deep in the ground. Until my body decays. And even then, I will still love you. Death could not keep me from you. Nothing could keep me from you.”
Yet they were not to be together. Despite their best intentions, fate had intervened.
At the look on her face, Kronos said, “I have no regrets, Daphne.”
But Daphne had many regrets. She regretted not telling him how she felt sooner, she regretting not letting him in while she had the chance. She’d always expected they would have more time. Now they had none.
“Kronos,” she began, “I’m so sorry…”
He shook his head. “You have nothing to apologize for.”
“But I must. I—”
“You have nothing,” he said again firmly, “to apologize for. I already told you. You were worth it.”
“How can you say that? How was any of this worth it?”
Kronos let out a soft laugh. “I have experienced quite a lot more than you have, Daphne Verus. And you”—he leaned in, his eyes holding hers—“your love was far and away the best thing I have ever known.”
“You shouldn’t have to sacrifice yourself for me.”
“What else could possibly be worth sacrificing myself for?”
Daphne shook her head, yet she could no longer argue.
She was losing something too—she was losing him.
They were losing each other, yet somehow they had gained still more.
Their love was a miracle, a beautiful thing that had changed them both for the better.
Daphne knew she would be forever changed because of it.
“It is my choice, Daphne. And I make it gladly.”
His words were too heavy to bear. There was so much left unsaid between them. So many things she wanted to ask.
“Kronos,” she whispered. “What does mén zeseré mean?”
His eyes softened. “It means my heart.”
She remembered how he’d described love to her—how it felt like his heart was outside his body. Daphne placed her hand on his chest, her palm covering the Y-shaped scar.
“As long as my heart beats,” he murmured, “it beats for you.”
Daphne could barely see through her tears. It took great effort to say “And mine for you.”
Then she kissed him.
They kissed as if it were the last time, and perhaps it was.
They kissed as if they were the only two people in the world, the only souls in the universe.
They kissed despite the horrors they’d just been through and the horrors still to come.
They kissed until they were both crying too hard to kiss anymore.
Only then did Kronos say, “Will you do something for me, Daphne?”
She nodded. “Of course. Anything.”
A long pause followed. Daphne’s heart began to pound. She had a bad feeling—a sudden fear that Kronos was about to—
“Do not follow me.”
A familiar sensation returned to her chest, settling with slow insistence. “Kronos,” she shook her head, trying to fight the sensation. “Don’t.”
“Do not come looking for me.”
“Kronos—please—”
“You will do whatever it takes to keep yourself alive and safe,” he continued, his eyes holding hers. “You will take care of yourself because I will not be there to do it for you.”
“Please don’t do this to me. Please don’t—please—” Her words devolved into sobs.
Kronos kept going through them. “Tell yourself whatever you have to in order to leave me, Daphne. You will forget who we are to each other; you will forget what we have. When fate reunites us, you will remember.”
Daphne was crying so hard she could no longer see straight. “We’re supposed to be together,” she choked out through her tears. “You promised. You—”
“Daphne,” he cut her off, his whisper even quieter than hers. “I will find my way back to you. That is a promise. But you have a life to live, Daphne. I demand that you live it.”
“That,” Maximus said quietly, his voice cutting between them like a knife, “is quite enough.” He nodded at the guards. “Take him away.”
“NO!” Daphne screamed.
She tightened her grip on Kronos, holding on to him even as the guards hauled him upright. She clung to his shoulders so hard her fingernails drew blood.
“Let go, Daphne.”
Immediately, she did so. She tried to step forward, but something stopped her.
He told her to let go, so she did. Daphne railed against the sensation, trying with all her might to move forward.
But she couldn’t. Ancient magic much older than herself prevented her from fighting for the one person she didn’t care to live without.
“You can’t take him from me,” she screamed.
Yet they could.
She watched as the guards pushed Kronos into the carriage, snow flurries whirling around him. He held her gaze the entire time, the tears in his eyes matching the tears in hers as he went where she could not follow.
She could do nothing but watch as the carriage left, taking her heart with it.
The world seemed to darken the moment Kronos was gone. It was just her and the prince now, standing in silence. Maximus watched her with his hands behind his back, a feigned position of innocence. The sight made her want to scream.
She whirled on him. “Now allow me to have my last words with you.”
Maximus’s eyes narrowed. He opened his mouth, but she didn’t give him the chance to speak.
“I will never forgive you for this,” Daphne said, her voice rough from crying. “You have lost me forever. We both know you never had me in the first place, but at one point you had my respect. And that is gone, Maximus. Do you understand me?”
“I did what had to be done, Daphne.”
“This did not have to be done.” She leaned in, staring deep into his soulless gray eyes.
“You did the easy thing. The cowardly thing. You are no better than your father. And if you do not change course, you will be as good as a murderer. Is that the legacy you want to leave for Lilly? For your future children? Our actions matter. Our choices determine the outcome of our lives. Your future is not written until you write it. You are responsible for your choices. So choose fucking carefully.”
Maximus’s face was pale, his rage barely contained. “Daphne, I—”
“Do not speak.”
He pursed his lips. Despite the cold, a single drop of sweat slid down his brow.
“You took the love of my life from me. You are a cruel, heartless man. You are nothing to me and you will get nothing from me.”
She stepped closer, holding eye contact even as he flinched beneath it.
Daphne remembered the Frisky Sixty, how Maximus had begged her to say a single word—how her voice was his salvation.
She’d given in that day; she had let him come.
Now she would gladly deprive him of it forever.
This was his punishment. The prince would wilt in her silence for the rest of his hateful life.
Daphne leaned in close as she delivered her final words. “You will never hear my voice again.”
Then she left him.