Page 48 of Sonnets and Serpents (Casters and Crowns #2)

Each passing second dragged through Eliza’s heart like a needle, leaving behind stitches of dread. She told Gill and Henry her suspicions, and then they just looked at her, like they expected her to know how to solve everything.

They’re looking to their princess, she realized. It was the same look people had always given Aria. Whether Eliza wanted to be or not, for two members of the Loegrian court, she was the authority figure in the room.

Silas had never looked at her like that. He might have called her “Highness,” but he had no difficulty taking charge, no qualms about making his own intentions clear. When they’d infiltrated the kuveti prison, they’d made the plan together.

“I need some input here!” she burst out. “I don’t know where Silas is. Do we search for him first, or will that waste too much time? Would it be better to go straight to the dean? Kerem may already be there. As soon as he knows we’re suspicious, we’ll be covered in cobras.”

Gill took the invitation first, resting one hand on his sword. “We can split up. I’ll search for Silas. You and Henry inform the university’s dean.”

As always, Eliza found herself a walking contradiction. She’d asked for opinions, yet upon receiving one, her instinct was to protest. The thought of running to the dean instead of to Silas felt like asking a famished woman to ignore a feast. Her willpower cracked.

But she was the only one who could speak Pravish, however roughly.

“Fine,” she forced herself to say. “If you—”

“I can’t protect her,” Henry interjected, his voice pained. “I don’t have a weapon, and even if I did, you’re the far better swordsman. You go with Eliza, and I’ll look for Silas.”

“You have a weapon,” Eliza said. “You have magic.”

And Silas was right; it was nothing to be ashamed of.

“Baron,” Henry said, ignoring Eliza.

But she refused to be ignored.

“You can both look for Silas, then! I’ll protect myself!” She threw her hands up. “I don’t know why all the men in my life are so eager to be rid of me, but I’m taking it personally. Good riddance to you all.”

She stormed from the healing hall, passing physicians and Casters. The late afternoon sun slanted into her eyes, set against her just like everything else, and she raised a hand to block it.

After a few minutes, Gill caught up. Henry was nowhere to be seen. Eliza clenched her jaw but said nothing, practicing silently what she would say to the dean.

They climbed to the fourth floor of the Yamakaz, and although Eliza had never personally met Afshin during her time at the university, she pretended full confidence when knocking at his door.

A pair of guards answered, and Eliza gave her name and title, certain to say crown princess properly this time.

They looked skeptical—she was just a frazzled girl in Pravish clothing—but, thankfully, Gill had the official paperwork and seal from Aria to legitimize an ambassador claim.

After a brief conference between dean and guards, they were admitted.

The dean’s office had a welcoming feel, with curved walls and a domed ceiling. Overhead windows beamed in sunlight. Afshin greeted them both with a warm smile, although he looked haggard around the edges. His collar sat askew, as if he’d been pulling at it, and stress shadowed his eyes.

“A Loegrian delegation!” Afshin said, ushering them to a cushioned seating area.

Eliza stifled a groan, realizing he spoke perfect Loegrian. So much for her practice.

“This is exceedingly rare,” he went on. “It may be the first time while I’ve served over the university. But I had hoped, with the recent changes in your government, we might open a communication.”

How would he feel if he knew she’d been sneaking around his campus for weeks, chasing her own problems without ever worrying about the bigger picture between countries?

“What brings you here, Your Royal Highness?” Afshin asked.

“Actually, I’ve been here for . . . a short while. Accompanying Silas Bennett. We happened to become entangled in recent events, and I’ve found information you need to know relating to the deaths of Iyal Havva and others.”

Clearly, Afshin hadn’t expected the conversation to turn this direction, so Eliza plowed on.

“Iyal Kerem is framing Yvette. Ceyda never offered a witness against her, and I’m certain he planted the research journal and forged the documents from the kuveti as well.”

Afshin struggled for composure. “You have an extensive knowledge of what’s happening at our university. These are . . . serious accusations.”

Eliza frowned. “They’ve already been laid against Yvette. I’m only directing them at the right person.”

“What proof do you have to offer?”

“You can speak to Ceyda, for a start. She can tell you about the giant snake Kerem sent after her.”

Afshin tensed. His fingers tapped slowly against his knee, as if he were considering a variety of responses and trying to choose the right one.

“I have had reason to consider a Snake Affiliate’s involvement in this matter,” he finally admitted.

Eliza’s flash of triumph died as quickly as it appeared. Because she heard his silent implication. Snake Affiliate. Not a name.

Sitting as tall as she could, she declared, “I can account for Silas Bennett’s whereabouts and actions every minute of the last weeks.

While we were linked by a Cast, I was unable to go more than a few feet from him, and I would stake my own crown and reputation on his innocence.

Any involvement he may have suffered was a result of Kerem’s manipulations. Kerem is the real snake.”

She felt Gill’s eyes on her, and she wondered what he was thinking about her involvement with Silas, but she kept her gaze facing resolutely forward.

Eventually, Afshin shook his head. The shadows beneath his eyes darkened, as if he was actively growing more tired.

“Ceyda Polat,” he said. “You claim she’s awake. I was told by our healers that she would not regain consciousness for days, that her odds of even surviving were quite low.”

Unable to help a touch of smugness, Eliza gestured to her side. “Well, I brought my own Fluid Caster, and he’s impressive enough to be a king.”

Gill gave her a flat stare for that, but she didn’t care.

“Come with us,” she insisted. “Speak to her yourself.”

Together with Afshin’s four guards, they made their way toward the healing hall. As they passed the third-floor landing, Eliza looked down the row of faculty offices. Kerem’s door was closed, with no sign of movement. She hesitated on the landing.

Was Silas there? Was Kerem?

Her feet took one step toward that office, longing to charge forward.

Afshin’s gaze weighed heavily on her.

“I’m worried Silas is in danger,” she said. “He’s Kerem’s research assistant, and he doesn’t know what the professor’s done.”

“Allegedly,” Afshin said with all that weight.

Somehow, Eliza stopped herself from running off in spite of him. She held her ground instead. “You arrested Yvette on allegations, but Kerem’s allowed to remain a potential danger to students on your campus?”

As she’d hoped, protection of his students was the correct appeal. With a nod, Afshin sent the guards to Kerem’s office.

It was empty.

Eliza’s dread doubled. What were the odds Kerem and Silas could both be missing and not together?

Silas went back to his dorm, she told herself, trying to believe it. Kerem is off doing evil snake things, and Silas is sulking in his dorm.

She reached in her pocket, curling her fingers around the leatherbound snakeskin Silas had given her, tucked against her book of sonnets.

Silas is fine. He’s fine. He’s too stubborn to get hurt.

Yet she remembered wrapping his wounded leg in an alley. The last snake he’d come up against had won, and she had a feeling Kerem was far more ruthless than a cobra. For all Silas’s bold opinions, he was softhearted. He comforted crying princesses. He tried to rescue strangers from prison.

He was going to get eaten alive.

Gill touched her shoulder, and for a moment, they shared a silent worry.

“Henry will find him,” said the Caster.

She wondered if he was having as much difficulty talking himself out of the fear as she was.

Once at the healing hall, Afshin talked with Ceyda until he ran out of questions and she ran out of energy.

Eliza caught highlights of the conversation but missed large chunks as well.

For all her improvement, her Pravish still had a long way to go.

As far as she could tell, Afshin’s suspicion of Kerem grew during the conversation.

He ordered a search for the professor.

Unfortunately, Henry returned to the healing hall out of breath and empty-handed. He’d searched the dorm and campus buildings but hadn’t found Silas anywhere.

Silas couldn’t die. If he didn’t want to love Eliza, fine. If he wanted to be a stubborn, ill-tempered snake hermit all his life, fine. But he couldn’t die. She wouldn’t allow it.

“Henry,” she said softly, reaching for him.

He must have anticipated the request she was about to make because he shook his head, taking a step backward. She caught his hands anyway, drawing him back toward her.

“I’ve seen the way Silas can use snakes,” she said. “It’s how he found me. Please. Whatever animal link you have, you can find him.”

“I can’t,” he said, voice cracking.

She wrapped her arms around him. After a hesitant moment, he pressed his hands to her back and rested his chin on her shoulder, breathing deeply.

The irony struck her—how she’d once tried to convince Silas to help her find Henry, and now it was the other way around.

She remembered throwing herself into Silas’s arms in the library, partly as a ploy to get the bracelet on his wrist and partly out of genuine fear of the python at their feet.

Here she was again, just as fearful but of different things. Manipulating with another hug.

But she would do whatever it took to find him.

“How long have you been an Affiliate?” asked Gill with some wonder.