Page 261 of Kneel Before Me

Caspen did not go after her. He did not look up as the carriage drove away. Instead he caught Agnes just before she fell to the ground, his hands cradling her head as her body went limp in his arms.

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?”