Page 107 of Sonnets and Serpents
She released him, her arm falling slack to her side. With her other hand, she clutched the twin bracelets to her chest, as if to shield them. Perhaps to shield herself. Tears welled in her eyes.
Sheknewwhat it meant—the Cast breaking had been evidence enough. But if he couldn’t admit it, if he was determined to lie and to hide in his old avoidances that love didn’t exist or that a kiss meant nothing at all, then it didn’t matter.
It didn’t matter if Silas loved her. He didn’t want to.
“Thank you,” she said softly, “for being clear. Because, for a moment there, I thought it meant I loved you. But I suppose it was just one of my romantic whims.”
She dropped the bracelets on the path at his feet, and then she ran. It was cowardly, but it felt good, knowing he couldn’t catch her if she didn’t let him, knowing he wouldn’t be dragged along on a tether. She was physically free of him.
If only the same could be said for her mind and heart.
Silas cursed himself in every language he knew. He kicked at one of the bracelets, wishing he could blame the Cast or the Caster behind it, wishing he could blame Yvette or Eliza. But his failings were all his own.
For a few precious minutes, he’d held the entire world in hisarms, and at the first opportunity, he’d thrown it away. Eliza’s voice haunted him from memory.
Be better than that, Silas. Be braver.
But he didn’t know how.
The instant he’d seen the Cast broken, all his fears had come rushing in. So before Eliza could leave him, he’d left her. Before she could betray him, he’d betrayed her.
As a cornered snake, he’d spat venom.
And even if he wanted to transform back . . .
He didn’t know how.
He rubbed at the scar on his throat. His first impulse was to go to Yvette for advice, and that made everything worse. Clearly, Silas’s judgment when it came to people couldn’t be trusted.
He tried to convince himself to head toward the healing hall, but the command swirled in his mind without ever reaching his feet. Standing rooted, he imagined what would happen if he went. Gill would see right through him.
What have you done?his best friend would ask, like Silas was one of his younger brothers, guilty of mischief.
I kissed Eliza.
Surely that would go over well.
You? A royal?
Yes, yes, lay it on. I remember everything I said when you told me you were in love with a Loegrian princess.
Are you in love with a Loegrian princess?
Even in his mind, Silas couldn’t say a simple yes. The ground had vanished beneath him, and maybe he would never move forward again.
I don’t even know what love is, Gill.
Eliza wanted him to be braver than he was, but even if he tried, what then? She could never stay away from Loegria indefinitely, and he could never go back. They were at an impasse. Any confession—any attempt on his part to make his feelings clear—would only end with a parting even more brutal than this one. A betrayal.
He remembered her devastation after her fight with Henry. Silas had been a hypocrite, wanting to comfort her after her unanswered confession, thinking Henry a fool for walking away.
At least Henry had only retreated.
Silas had offered her the world, then said it meant nothing.
She really was better off with the knight.
Eliza ran without caring where she was going. She left campus behind, taking the path out onto the Izili cliffs, but she didn’t turn left into the city or right toward the Sarazan tabernacle. She raced out to the cliff edge, until she ran out of ground, until she slid to a halt, panting, her face streaked with sweat, seagulls crying above her and the ocean stretching out below.
