Page 41 of Sonnets and Serpents (Casters and Crowns #2)

Henry startled at the sound of his name and gave a hurried bow.

“He doesn’t speak Pravish,” Silas said.

Smoothly, she switched to Loegrian. “Pleasure to meet you at last.”

Henry grabbed her hand in an enthusiastic handshake, grinning all the while.

Yvette gave an indulgent laugh before freeing her hand. Then she glanced at Eliza. “You must be relieved.”

“I am.” Eliza looped her arm through Henry’s.

Silas stepped into the office first. He tapped his bracelet. “I finished my homework. I’d appreciate the grade.”

Yvette gave a sly grin. “Not so fast. What did you learn?”

“You were right.”

“Ooh, flattery. I love it. Tell me more, and then tell me the real answer.”

She gestured them into her seating area, and then she handed Henry a bowl of roasted, shelled hirk nuts, as if warning him to settle in. He thanked her and tucked in with delight. Silas shook his head. He’d find the pepper flakes soon enough.

Yvette settled on a cushion between Eliza and Silas, arranging the ends of her red scarf in her lap and then placing her hands on her knees. “Second try. What did you learn?”

“I wasn’t warned there’d be a test,” he drawled.

“Ah, but I trust you studied anyway.”

Eliza watched smugly, as if enjoying his torture. She didn’t realize it would be her turn soon enough. Yvette was never one to let an evaluation slide.

Best to get it over with.

“You were right about compassion,” Silas said, trying not to squirm. “I should have had more. In the end, it felt rewarding to help, and I gained an appreciation for Eliza’s strengths. I’ll miss her when she’s gone.”

He could admit that. It stung, but honesty had a better burn than dishonesty. Besides, he’d never given a dishonest report to a teacher, and he wasn’t about to start.

Yvette patted his knee. Then she looked expectantly at Eliza.

“Your turn,” she said when the princess didn’t speak.

Eliza’s jaw dropped. “What, me? What am I meant to say?”

“Tell me what you learned from this experience.”

It was Silas’s turn to look smug, and he indulged it wholeheartedly.

“I didn’t learn anything,” Eliza protested. “I just . . . we just—it was just something that happened. It’s not as though we were on trial.”

Henry started coughing, pounding his chest. He’d found the pepper at last. Without missing a beat, Yvette handed him a cup that Silas hoped wasn’t zenzil.

“Not on trial, no,” said the professor, resettling on her cushion. “But you returned to me now because you want me to break the Cast, don’t you? Did you expect that service for free?”

Eliza’s face reddened. Weakly, she protested, “But what kind of payment is this?”

“It’s not a very good one, true. It benefits you far more than it does me.

” Yvette smiled. “Highness, you will have all kinds of experiences in life. Things that just happen. If you never pause to evaluate any of them, to look back and ask what they’ve taught you and how you intend to direct yourself as a result, then what is the purpose?

Imagine if captains sailed with their eyes shut; they would never make harbor.

If you wish to direct your life, then I’m asking you to sail with your eyes open.

Tell me what you’ve learned from your time with Silas. ”

The room fell silent save for the crack and crunch of nuts as Henry chewed, which quieted as he clearly grew self-conscious, hunching over the bowl. Silas stole a handful of nuts—not really to make the knight feel better but because roasted hirk was an indulgence.

Or maybe because he needed something to occupy his attention while he waited to hear what Eliza would say about him.

“Silas isn’t who I thought,” Eliza finally said, her voice quiet and a bit raspy. “At first, I thought he was a thug. Then I thought he was a monster.”

Silas kept his eyes focused on the nuts, wishing they had shells to crack.

“Now I know he’s . . . just a person. A frustrating one, sometimes.

And inspiring sometimes too. And he’s wrong more often than he’ll admit.

For example, he’s wrong about love, because it definitely exists.

And he’s wrong about compassion, because he says he should have more, but truthfully, no one has ever shown me more compassion than he has, from the moment I first trapped him in this Cast and he sat with me while I cried.

I think he’s just careful where he spends it. And maybe that’s for good reason.”

Silas lifted his eyes to see Eliza looking at him, her cheeks pink but her expression earnest.

Maybe he was wrong more often than he cared to admit.

He’d certainly been wrong about her.

Eliza wasn’t an entitled royal who expected life to bow for her.

She was a brave, stubborn girl who loved with her whole heart and fought for what she believed in, even when it appeared impossible.

She soared high and crashed low, and through it all, she never surrendered.

She’d changed his life just by being in it.

And he’d been honest when he’d said he would miss her, but maybe he hadn’t been honest about just how much. That truth might crack something in his soul.

“He’s been hurt before,” Eliza whispered, her eyes fixed on his. “But I would never hurt him. At least, I’d never want to.”

The itch of scales rippled across his hands.

His body didn’t know what to do with all the emotion bubbling up inside, and he fought to keep the confusing surge at bay.

He wanted to kiss Eliza, to crawl the distance between them on hands and knees, plead for her to stay.

But the distance between them couldn’t be crossed so easily.

She was right. Silas had felt the sharp bite of a loved one’s sword at his neck. He knew that loving only led to betrayal and pain. The longer it took, the worse it would hurt. And he’d promised himself he’d never be in that situation again.

He looked away first, breaking the connection.

“Lessons in droves,” Yvette said softly, “and, Highness, I do believe you’ll navigate far better after acknowledging them. As for the Cast—”

The door to her office banged open, startling all of them.