Page 159 of Kneel Before Me

Daphne,

I await your decision. Please know that whatever you decide, it would be an honor to do this with you.

—K

What the hell was that supposed to mean? Do what with her? The longer he thought about what the snake could mean by that, the more capable he became of murder. Maximus was so distracted he barely heard the commotion just outside the door. There were voices in the kitchen, one of them Daphne’s.

“What do you mean the prince is here?”

“I mean the prince is here,” her mother said with insistent urgency. “He’s in your bedroom.”

“Why would you let him in there?”

“He could hardly wait in the kitchen, could he? He’s royalty, Daphne.”

“I know perfectly well what he is, Mother.”

“Well, do you know why he’s here? Is something wrong? Has he eliminated you? Are you going to—”

“Mother you must be calm,” Daphne hissed. “I don’t know why he’s here. And I’m not going to find out talking to you about him in the kitchen.”

Her mother did not reply. Maximus barely managed to return the letters to their place before the bedroom door opened and Daphne stepped through it.

“Max,” she said. Her cheeks were flushed from the cold.

“Daphne.”

“What are you doing here?”

“I needed to speak with you.”

A pause. Daphne’s eyes flicked to her dresser, where the spray bottle sat. Then to the letters. Maximus had put them away in a haste—he wondered if she could tell.

“So, speak,” she said cautiously.

They might as well start at the beginning. “Are you hurt?”

Daphne shook her head.

“Good.”

Maximus didn’t mention the letters. For some reason, he knew to save that information for a later time—a more opportune moment. Daphne was clearly under some sort of spell; if she had feelings for a snake, the basilisk had bewitched her. Besides, he did not know all the details. Perhaps she was writing him letters in return, telling him to fuck off. The thought cheered him. He decided to test the waters.

“Have you thought about what I told you?”

Daphne turned, pulling off her scarf and hanging it by the door. “What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean.”

There was only one thing he could be referring to: the terms of their arrangement. Maximus had laid his heart bare to her—he’d told her how he felt, and now he was waiting for her to do the same. After what he’d just read, he needed her to clarify where she stood.

“I want to marry you, Daphne. Am I wasting my time?”

Her mouth fell open. She did not respond.

“Well?”

She shook her head as if to clear it. Then she reached for an open bottle of wine on her dresser and took a long swig. As soon as she swallowed, she said, “We haven’t even had sex, Max.”