Page 92 of Kneel Before Me

“Those people?”

Augustus rolled his shoulders. Maximus hated when he did that. It always meant that some insufferable shit was about to come out of his mouth.

“They are below us, Maximus. It is our job to control them.”

Maximus shook his head. “You sound like a dictator.”

“Perhaps I am one.”

“What?”

“And perhaps you will be one too.”

Maximus did not respond. He was not a dictator nor would he ever be one. He did not believe in ruling by force. He decided to change the subject. “You certainly wasted no time pulling me away from her.”

“Your safety was at risk. I did what I had to do to remove you from a dangerous situation.”

“There was no danger to me, and you know it.”

Augustus scowled.

So did Maximus. “You do not fool me, Father,” he whispered.

It was no surprise that his father was intervening in the competition. What was a surprise was that he was willing to do so publicly. Appearances were everything to Augustus. Maximus had lived his entire life in a home where the only thing that mattered was how his family looked to others. It was the reason his father was now foisting Constance on him, and it was the entire reason he was accelerating the competition—forcing Maximus to eliminate the girls quickly, three after the Frisky Sixty alone—so that he could marry an eligible girl as soon as possible. He was lucky his father hadn’t resorted to violence in order to get him off the stage. Violence was the language Maximus had been raised to learn. Everything was steeped in it. His father had always favored a hand over a word when doling out punishment. It was something Maximus was used to, and it was not something he envisioned for his own children. The thought of striking Lilly made him physically sick. What kind of father would he be if he did that? What kind of father was Augustus, who had done that? The cycle was endless. But it would end with him. He would not bend to his father. He would continue his arrangement with Daphne, and if he had any luck at all, he would marry her at the end of it.

Maximus stared out the window the rest of the carriage ride.

When he was back in his bedroom he immediately poured himself a glass of wine. Then with a sigh, he crossed to his dresser. The last drawer housed a secret that even his father did not know about. Letters that he and Lilibet had exchanged—the ones they’d left for each other on the old gravestone. He rarely looked at them; they were too painful for him to read. But now he pulled them out, thumbing through their well-worn corners.

Lilibet,

You cannot understand how you make me feel. I am so lucky to have met you.

—Maximus

Maximus,

I feel the same. Meet me behind the church tomorrow night.

—Lilibet

Lilibet,

When I’m with you, I’m at peace. These nightly visits aren’t enough.

—Maximus

Maximus,

I liked that thing you did with your tongue last night. When I see you tonight, will you do it again?

—Lilibet

Lilibet,

I will do that thing with my tongue if you do that thing with your hands.

—Maximus