Page 80 of Kneel Before Me

“Most basilisks do not compete for the throne,” he continued. “Not everyone is destined for such a path. Only the twelve highest-ranked basilisks are eligible, including the current Serpent King.”

Daphne frowned. “He’s in the running for his own position?”

“Yes,” Kronos said. “In a way.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Kora is the one who ultimately decides who rules. Not even the Serpent King can decide how long he reigns.”

A pause followed as Daphne digested this information. Then she asked, “So…are you in the top twelve?”

“I am.” He said it with pride.

Daphne understood this was significant for him. “That’s…good,” she said, unsure how congratulatory to be.

“It is,” Kronos continued. “But I may not remain there. Significant consideration is given to the basilisk who trains the girl who wins the prince’s hand in marriage. It is considered an enormous honor to hold influence over the human prince.”

“So…” Daphne said slowly. “You want your quiver to gain power. You want to be Serpent King, and you want to use me to do it.”

“That is not what I said.”

“But it’s what you mean.”

“I did not tell you this to pressure you, Daphne.”

But pressure was all she felt. Not only were there personal implications for her decision not to have sex, now she was finding out there were political ones too. The walls of the cave felt as if they were closing in. Daphne was having trouble breathing.

“Then why did you tell me?”

“I am trying to let you in.”

Daphne appreciated that in theory. But the reality was destabilizing. Finally, the juxtaposition between his commands and his actions made sense. He wanted her to win, but he didn’t want her to betray her promise to herself. Daphne felt a sudden rush of gratitude toward Kronos. Any other basilisk, it was quite possible, could have simply forced her to have sex—it was, after all, their job to teach the human women about sex. But not Kronos. He’d taken the very first thing she ever said to him to heart and had never wavered on it despite the consequences to himself and to his quiver. She couldn’t believe he was still respecting her wishes when her wishes had such widespread impact.

“Daphne.” He leaned forward. “The prince favors you. You are already winning the competition.”

She closed her eyes, trying to concentrate on anything but the panic rising in her chest.

“And you need me to keep winning. Don’t you?”

There was a pause that seemed to drag out for forever.

“Don’t you?”

“Yes,” he said. “I do.”

Daphne thought about what had happened during the Frisky Sixty—how she’d commanded Maximus from a foot away. Was it enough? She remembered what Kronos had told her after she’d won the first date: Whatever you gave him, he will expect more. If you do not give it willingly, he will take it. What if the day came when Maximus expected more? She couldn’t keep him at an arm’s length forever.

“If you do not win, the Drakons will remain in power,” Kronos continued.

Daphne shook her head. She didn’t ask for this. She didn’t ask to be a pawn in a chess game between quivers.

“This isn’t fair,” she said. “Why should I do this for you? Why should I care about the Drakons?”

“The Drakons are bloodthirsty, ruthless, and cruel. Their quiver is dangerous.”

She shook her head again. “That has nothing to do with me, Kronos.”

“It may one day.”