Page 41 of Kneel Before Me

“No, it’s not. He was rude to you, and you didn’t deserve it.”

Daphne didn’t know what to say, so she simply nodded. For some reason, the interaction with the king had unsettled her. She felt quite alone in this very large castle. “What now?”

“I thought we could have breakfast,” Maximus said. “Surely, you must be starving.”

“Oh.”

Concern tightened his face. “Don’t you wish to eat?”

“No, I do—it’s not that. I just…” Daphne trailed off. Why were the men in her life constantly trying to feed her? “I’m just…cold.”

It was true; even the prince’s thick wool coat could not undo the damage of spending an entire night outdoors in autumn.

“I see.”

There was a pause.

“Would you…care to take a bath?”

Daphne loved baths. But was he implying they would take one together? Her eyes narrowed.

At her expression, Maximus continued quickly. “You could use my bathroom. It is private.”

She noticed his use of the word you, making it clear she would be alone. And if that were the case, what was the harm? Even though the prospect of being naked in the prince’s bathroom was admittedly strange, this wasn’t sex. It wasn’t anything. It was a bath, and Daphne could use one. “A bath sounds…nice.”

Maximus bowed his head before turning toward the staircase. They climbed it together, and Daphne thought about how the last time she was here she’d climbed it alone. When they reached the landing, Maximus opened the door right next to Lilly’s nursery. His chambers were large and somehow exactly what she expected. A four-poster bed stood at one end, a fireplace at the other. An entire wall was filled with books, so many that the shelves were bending beneath their weight. There was a marble swan in the corner. Daphne knew nothing about art, yet she knew that one statue was worth more than what her mother made in a month. The rest of Maximus’s room was no different—every inch was covered in ornate fabrics and golden tassels. There were oil paintings of various blond people who Daphne assumed were relatives scattered along the walls. Beneath her feet was a rich, patterned carpet. Even the air felt thick with wealth.

“Would you care for a drink?”

Daphne turned to see Maximus standing expectantly at a bar cart. “Yes.”

“Very well,” the prince said as he turned to pour her a white wine.

Daphne watched him as he did, barely managing to suppress a gasp as he rolled up his sleeves to reveal forearms corded with veins. A man should have no right looking like that. She tried to look away, but it was impossible. Daphne watched as his hands caressed first the wineglass, then the bottle, lifting them both in perfect tandem. He tilted one, then the other, holding both of them steady. Daphne couldn’t help but think that a man who held a glass that steady would surely hold other things steady as well.

Maximus handed her the wine. Daphne took it slowly, holding his gaze. She studied his cheekbones, his white-blond hair. It was unlike any hair she had ever seen before. Anyone who was blond in the village was dirty blond—light brunettes dyed lighter by the sun. But Maximus’s hair was practically silver, like a sheet of ice. She had never seen anything like it. There was something intrinsically interesting about it, as much as that pained her to admit.

To the left of the bed was a door, which Maximus opened to reveal a spacious marble bathroom with gold fixtures.

“What’s mine is yours,” he said, pointing to a shelf filled with bottles of bath oil. “Feel free to use anything you like.”

It was luxury like Daphne had never seen. The bathroom alone was bigger than Daphne’s bedroom at home. She was struck by the same feeling she’d had when Augustus looked at her: inferiority. It was not a pleasant feeling.

“Thanks,” she mumbled.

“I can take this,” Maximus took his coat gently from her shoulders. “I will be out here whenever you’re finished.” He turned to leave.

“Wait,” she said suddenly.

He paused, turning back to her. For some reason, his apology ran through her head: He was rude to you, and you didn’t deserve it. She liked the way he’d defended her against his father. It was an action worthy of reciprocation. They were supposed to be on a date. That could hardly happen if she was alone in the bathroom.

“You could…stay,” she whispered before she could talk herself out of it.

Maximus raised his eyebrows. The pause seemed to go on forever, and the suspense made Daphne almost regret her proposal. “Only if that’s what you want,” he said. He sounded awestruck.

Daphne nodded before she could talk herself out of it. “It’s what I want.”

“Very well.”