Page 2 of Kneel Before Me

The tide of fate favors me. It always will.

You speak as if Kora herself has blessed you.

Perhaps she has.

And yet Kora has not deemed you worthy of becoming Serpent King. How many years has your father held the position now?

Caspen rolled his shoulders. His father had been Serpent King for decades. It was an unusual situation; Bastian’s blood bond with Caspen’s mother made him extraordinarily strong. Still, Caspen should have succeeded his father by now. But it was not up to him. It was Kora’s choice that ultimately determined whether or not a new Serpent King came into power. Despite the fact that Caspen’s girls always won the competition—a pattern that afforded him significant power—his rank never rose high enough to surpass his father. It had become a point of contention for them; his father believed Kora did not find Caspen worthy of the throne. Caspen was beginning to believe it too.

Perhaps Kora has gotten lazy.

Anger flowed from Rowe to him.

It is not wise to mock the gods, Caspenon.

Caspen slammed the door between their minds shut. A moment later someone appeared at his shoulder.

“Are you taking me to the hill tonight?” Agnes chirped.

He looked down at his little sister.

There was a hill where it was possible to watch the town square. As soon as Caspen had found out Agnes liked to spend time there, he had forbidden her from doing so. When she had not ceased her outings, he had started to come along. At least he knew he could protect her if something were to happen. Better she have a chaperone than be near the humans alone.

“Not tonight, Agnes.”

“Caspy,” she whined. “You promised.”

“And you promised to stop calling me that,” he said. At his reprimand, a mischievous grin tilted her lips.

“But it is your nickname. You should like it.”

“You know perfectly well I do not like it.”

Agnes stuck her lip out in a pout.

Before she could tease him further, Caspen continued, “The training begins tonight.”

Agnes sighed. “Fine. In that case, maybe Apollo will take me.”

Caspen stopped and turned to her. “Remember your promise to me, Sister. No one can know we do this. It is too dangerous.”

“But why? No one ever sees us.”

He shook his head. “No one has seen us yet.”

“You are so pessimistic.”

“I am realistic. There is a difference.”

She rolled her eyes, still pouting.

“Agnes.” He placed his hands on her shoulders. “No one else can know. And you cannot go without me. Do you understand?”

Her mouth formed a tiny, unhappy line.

“Agnes. Answer me.”

“Yes, I understand. But you owe me.”