Page 252 of Kneel Before Me

Love was for fools.

Maximus was back in his room, a bottle of red wine deep, when a knock came on his door. For one wild moment, he thought it might be Daphne. Instead he opened it to see his father.

“The Serpent King wishes to meet with you.”

Maximus blinked. Perhaps he’d had too much wine. He must have misheard him. “What?”

His father bristled. “This is part of your duties, Son. I have met with him before.”

“But…why?”

“He wishes to discuss an amendment to the truce.”

Maximus raised his eyebrows. An amendment to the truce? It was unheard of. “I didn’t know that was possible.”

“Anything is possible when you are in power.”

He frowned. His father’s words implied that the basilisks were also in power. “What is the amendment?”

“I do not know. I’m sure the Serpent King will tell you.”

“Are you going to…be there with me?” Maximus hated the fear and hesitation in his voice. It made him feel pathetic to want his father in the room. But he had never negotiated anything on his own, much less an amendment to the truce with the Serpent King himself.

“He requested to meet with you alone.”

Augustus clenched his teeth as he said it. Of course his father would not be pleased with such a request—it meant he was being sidelined.

“Very well,” Maximus said with as much confidence as he could muster. “When is he arriving?”

“You will meet him in the study. Go right now.”

His father swept from the room. The moment he was gone, Maximus made for the study. He wouldn’t dare be late to a meeting with the Serpent King. When he arrived, the study was mercifully empty. Maximus poured himself another wine before sinking into one of the armchairs by the fireplace. The last time he was in this room, it had been with Daphne. The thought made him irate. She was probably gallivanting around the caves with Kronos right this very moment. He stared at his wine, resisting the urge to drown himself in it. The next thing he knew, there was a knock on the door. He leapt to his feet, placing the wine on the mantel before clearing his throat in what he hoped was an authoritative manner.

“Come in,” he said.

In walked the most formidable basilisk he had ever seen.

He was tall and muscular, wearing some sort of wrapped contraption that Maximus strongly suspected was a bedsheet. Despite his unconventional garb, he was terrifying. He also looked oddly familiar. It took a moment to place him, but as soon as Maximus did, the resemblance was obvious. He was an older version of Constance’s basilisk—the one who had given him attitude during the elimination process. The one who seemed to care disproportionately that he choose Constance as his wife. Before Maximus could wonder about this, the Serpent King spoke.

“My name is Bastian.”

He did not extend his hand, as a human might. Instead he simply stood there. Unsure how to proceed, Maximus nodded.

“My name is Maximus,” he said. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Bastian’s eyes narrowed. “Do not lie, Maximus.”

“I’m—I’m not—”

“It is not a pleasure to meet me. You are afraid.”

Maximus opened his mouth to protest again, then shut it. Bastian had a point. He was terrified. So he simply nodded, not trusting himself to speak again. The Serpent King continued unprompted.

“For years, the royals have taken my people captive to turn their blood into gold.”

Dread twisted Maximus’s stomach. “How—how do you know—?”

“Do not be naive. You think I am unaware of what goes on in my own kingdom?”