Page 40 of Sonnets and Serpents (Casters and Crowns #2)

Eliza heard movement in the hallway, but it couldn’t be Silas. It was too early for him to be up. She cracked open her door and peeked out to see Henry with his back to her, stretching his arms and legs, perhaps going through a morning exercise.

Quickly, she ducked back into her room. She rebraided her hair and changed her clothes, almost strangling herself as she wrapped her scarf with shaking hands and wound up all tangled in the fabric.

Should she even wear a scarf? Would Henry prefer to see her looking more Loegrian than Pravish?

Secretly, she’d come to love the bright, flowing fashion.

Without permission, her mind summoned the memory of when Silas had purchased her clothing in the market, his low voice saying, You look beautiful.

He’d been teasing her, nothing more. And she had nothing else to wear, so debating was pointless.

She scrubbed her face with a bar of lemongrass soap and water from the basin on her dresser.

It was a day old now, since she and Silas had to go to the outside well together to draw anything fresh, but it was better than nothing.

At least there hadn’t been any earthquakes to spill it all over her floor. She’d woken to that more than once.

When she was finished, she paused with her hand on the door. Her nerves unsettled her stomach. What could she say?

What if she said all the wrong things?

Even while her mind fretted, her body struck out on its own, turning the handle, marching her into the hallway with purpose, as if she knew what she was doing.

Henry turned, smiling when he saw her. That smile brought back a rush of memories—dancing with him on her birthday, pressing a flower he’d given her into her book of sonnets—and she smiled back, her insides aflutter.

Even with the short beard and the travel-worn weariness, he was as handsome as ever.

He offered his arm. “Care for a morning walk?”

Eliza’s heart leapt to take the offer, but she hesitated, her arm halfway to his. The golden bracelet hung heavy on her wrist, and she thought of Silas, asleep and immobile in his room.

“It’s better if we speak here.” She gave a weak smile.

“We could at least sit on the front steps. Surely watching the dawn will be more enjoyable than sitting in this gloomy hallway.”

Heat rose in Eliza’s cheeks. She showed him her bracelet. “Truthfully, I’m . . . That is, Silas and I are, um, stuck together? I made this mistake, buying magic, and now we can’t stray more than twenty feet from each other. But that will be fixed today, I swear!”

Henry’s eyebrows lifted, and he floundered a moment before saying, “It seems you’ve had adventures of your own.”

“Adventure is not the word I’d use. Headache would be more accurate.” Though that didn’t entirely describe the complicated tangle inside her. If there was a good word for that, she hadn’t learned it in either Loegrian or Pravish.

“Really? Lord Silas is that bad?”

She bit her lip, not wanting to give the wrong impression. “It’s not him. Well, it’s partly him. He’s so bullheaded in his opinions. Not that I can’t be the same way. I—what I mean is, the heat and the snakes and the language, you know?”

Henry clearly did not know. He blinked at her like a poor lost owl.

Was he an owl? She wanted to ask about his Affiliate type, but instead, she found herself saying, “And lord. That’s another thing. He never told me he was part of court. In fact, he said . . .”

Her voice trailed off as she remembered the first time she’d mentioned Lord Bennett, saying she thought Silas might be his heir.

He wouldn’t claim me as such.

Now, looking back, she could hear the meaning in that. Silas was always honest, but he sometimes hid from pain in nuance.

“Oh,” she said softly, feeling foolish. Of course the father willing to go after his son with a sword would have disinherited him as well. So, no, Silas wasn’t a lord. At least, not anymore.

Henry shifted restlessly, and Eliza gave herself a mental kick. After all this time, she was finally alone with the boy she loved, and yet her mind and conversation were still filled with Silas Bennett. What was the matter with her?

“I’ve missed you!” she blurted, too loudly for the narrow hallway. She winced.

But Henry smiled again, the soft, tender smile she’d missed so dearly. “I can’t believe you’re here. Things happened so quickly yesterday, I never had the chance to ask what brought you to Pravusat—although, no matter the reason, I’m grateful to see you.”

Eliza blinked. Her ribs seemed to sharpen into points, pricking at her insides. “I came after you. Obviously.”

His eyes widened in what she hoped was awe rather than bafflement. “But your family, your—”

“None of it mattered.” Instantly, she realized how petty that sounded. He probably would have given anything to see his family again, and she’d left hers behind with only a note to explain her absence. “What I mean is . . . you mattered most.”

“Oh.” He didn’t seem to know how to take that. “I . . . I mean that much to you?”

“Of course.” She stepped forward, clasping his hands in her own. “And I’m so sorry about everything that happened with my father. I—”

“That wasn’t your doing.” He squeezed her hands. “You can’t control the king.”

She looked up hopefully. “Aria’s queen now. I’m not certain of the details, since I’ve been away, but I know she’ll grant you a pardon. She was so angry at Father for everything surrounding the challenge that I know she’ll set it right. We can go home together.”

He pulled away, a deep furrow on his brow. Though she tried not to be hurt, the withdrawal stung. This wasn’t the reunion Eliza had hoped for.

When Henry had first been banished, she could think only of seeing him again.

When she’d packed her bag and written a farewell letter to Aria, she’d been filled with purpose, with certainty.

She’d imagined sailing across the ocean like a maiden in an inspiring fable, imagined the moment she would surprise Henry and watch his expression melt into adoration.

The moment she would feel his arms around her. The moment they would kiss.

In her mind, everything had been warm and glowing and romantic, just the way love should be.

In reality, the slight draft in the hallway made her shiver. The dim light made it hard to see, and the floorboards creaked when she shifted. Nothing felt warm or glowing at all.

Then, just to crown her disappointment, the ground began shaking.

Henry stumbled, grabbing the doorframe with one hand to catch himself. His startled eyes found hers.

“It’s just the Stone Casters practicing in the yard,” she said with a heavy sigh. “Give it an hour.”

“An hour?” Henry repeated as another tremor rolled through.

Eliza should have found humor in his reaction, but she couldn’t.

Rather than trying to hold herself upright, she sank to the floor, bracing her palms on the wood.

She thought of that long-ago morning with Silas, when she’d fallen into his bed, elbowing him in the stomach.

When he’d looked at her with irritated eyes and disheveled hair and asked, What is the matter with you?

There was something the matter with her. She could not banish a snake from her mind.

Silas was clever and softhearted as well as irritating and abrasive.

He wasn’t like any of the men in the romantic stories that had filled her dreams. Silas would never go charging on a stallion to save a lady.

He would quote an essay about why she didn’t need saving at all because, contrary to popular opinion, ladies preferred to save themselves, and so the best course of action would be to send the stallion along as a gift, along with any supplies that might aid the lady in question.

Meanwhile, he’d be reading his book in the corner.

The world rumbled around her, and the shaking reached all the way to her core with a dreadful, waking truth.

Eliza was in dangerous territory. If she did not separate herself from Silas right now, she risked something terrible, something that would end in heartbreak.

How else could loving someone who didn’t believe in love end?

Her reunion with Henry was not as she’d pictured, but Henry was a knight.

He believed in romantic gestures like flowers and dances.

She could be happy with him eternally. He would never shatter her heart.

Besides that, if she allowed herself to feel things for Silas, if she allowed the object of her affections to change, she would become everything her father had always claimed she was.

A girl of romantic whims. Perhaps she’d move right on from Silas to another boy on campus, or a sailor, or whoever next managed to catch her eye.

Perhaps it would never end, and she’d be drifting forever.

She had to be steady. If she could not control the swells and tides of the storm inside, she could at least control those of her heart.

With a desperation she’d never felt before, Eliza stumbled to her feet, clinging to the wall as it bucked beneath her hands.

She walked slowly, tripping once without falling, until she slammed her hands against Silas’s door.

She pounded loudly enough to wake the dead—necessary for the way he slept through the tremors.

“Silas, get up!” she shouted. “We have to see Yvette!”

She could not live another day with the Cast in place. She had to be free of it. Free of him, with all his contradictions and irritating charms.

Before it was too late.

Silas told himself this was just one more duty to complete, just the next item on a work list. As soon as it was done, he could find Kerem and see how things had turned out with Ceyda. He could experiment with the Artifact. He could move on.

He knocked with purpose at Yvette’s door, and the Stone Caster opened it to admit them.

“This must be Henry,” she said, raising her eyebrows as she evaluated the knight like she was fitting him for his next suit of armor.