Page 215 of Kneel Before Me

Daphne’s heart hammered in her chest. The wine was going to her head. How far was she willing to take this? Before she could answer, she heard clink clink clink.

Everyone in the ballroom turned. Three podiums had been assembled at the end of the room, arranged in ascending heights. Augustus stood beside them, a knife and a glass in his hand.

“Would the remaining ladies please gather around?”

Daphne couldn’t seem to move. Maximus’s grip tightened on her waist as he pulled her toward the podiums. She still hadn’t answered his question.

Maximus left her at the end of the line of women. There were only four of them left.

“My son and I are grateful for our family and friends who have joined us tonight,” Augustus continued. “The rest of the elimination process will take place in the castle, once the final three women move in. As soon as my son has chosen his future wife, we will have a wedding.”

The crowd cheered.

Maximus turned to his father and nodded. Then he walked straight over to Daphne, took her hand, and helped her onto the first podium. The wine blurred her vision; she could barely seem to balance. For some reason, she was short of breath. Daphne focused on not falling over as Maximus selected the next two women: Constance and Veronica. Daphne should have guessed they would be the final picks; no doubt they were both eager to sleep with him, if they hadn’t already.

The crowd cheered even louder once all three women were selected. Before Daphne could wonder what would happen next, a maid approached her, extending her hand to help her down from the podium. Daphne followed her out of the ballroom and up the same carpeted stairs she’d climbed on her first night at the castle. The women disappeared one by one into bedrooms on the same floor as Maximus’s. Daphne was last; the maid led her all the way to a door at the end of the hall.

“Can I get you anything, miss? A drink, perhaps?”

Daphne hardly needed another drink. But she ordered one anyway. “White wine please.”

“I’ll send someone up with it right away.”

The maid disappeared, closing the door after her.

Daphne stared at the bed before her, at the silk sheets and the mountain of pillows. The entire room was decorated luxuriously in rich fabrics with gold accents. Daphne wondered whether there might be books in here, like in Maximus’s room. At least she could spend her time reading. Before she could properly search the shelves, there was a knock on her door. Daphne opened it, anticipating her wine. But the person before her was not a maid. It was Benjamin.

He carried a gold tray with a glass on it. Daphne barely saw it. All she saw was the cruel sneer that twisted his face as he said, “Really? You?”

Daphne opened her mouth but couldn’t seem to speak.

Benjamin’s eyes went immediately to her breasts. “Of course you show up looking like that.”

Daphne looked down at herself. She understood the effect of the dress—how it would entice him. Taunt him. Nevertheless, resentment pierced her. The clothing she wore should not determine her availability. Before she could open her mouth to reply, Benjamin spoke again.

“Does the prince know you’re a prude? Or are you going to suck his—”

Daphne slammed the door in his face. By the grace of Kora, it had a lock, which she utilized immediately before sliding down to the floor and beginning to cry. All she saw was Benjamin’s cruel smile—his horrible sneer as he leered at her cleavage. You’re nothing but a worthless whore. A useless slut. Even now—as the prince’s first pick—that was all she was to him. Perhaps it was all she would ever be. Her chest was still tight, her head spinning. Eventually, another knock came, but Daphne made no move to answer it. She had absolutely no desire to be berated again tonight.

“Daphne. Are you in there?”

It was Maximus.

“Daphne,” he said. “Can I see you? Please?”

Daphne stood, not bothering to wipe her tears. She unlocked the door before opening it slowly. The moment Maximus saw her, he frowned.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

He stepped closer. “You’re upset. You’re crying.”

Daphne could hear the concern in his voice—she saw it in the way his body tilted toward hers. She wanted to lie—to say that she wasn’t upset, that it wasn’t his concern. She wanted to.

Instead she stepped forward.

Immediately, Maximus’s arms were around her. He held her against his chest, stroking her hair and murmuring soothing words into her ear. “It’s all right,” he whispered. “There is no reason to cry.”