Page 32 of Sonnets and Serpents
“Gunadin,” Eliza repeated hesitantly.
Despite himself, he smirked. “You’re using a Loegrian ‘uh’ sound, but in Pravish, theuis a diphthong. Your vowel needs to glide at the end.”
“What does that mean?”
Scooting to the edge of the bed, he leaned forward with his elbows braced against his knees. “It means move your lips. Watch mine.”
Slowly, he repeated the first syllable a few times, then the word as a whole. Eliza dutifully watched his lips, but she must have grown disheartened with the pronunciation because an embarrassed red stained her cheeks.
“Just try,” he said. “From a linguistic standpoint, Loegrian and Pravish are actually—”
With a clear scowl, she cut him off. “You do realize I’m a woman, don’t you?”
Silas blinked. “I hadn’t questioned it until now.”
“Well, you sleep quite easily with a woman in your bed. Is that a common occurrence for you?”
He stared at her flatly. “If you’re referring to earlier this morning, Your Highness, I’ll remind you that you’re the one who climbed in. Is that a common occurrence for you?”
Her blush spread to her collar.
“No!” She buried her face in her hands. “Forget it. Forget I said anything.”
He snorted. While she remained in hiding, he stood and used the top of his dresser as a work surface to cut open two papayas for breakfast. Eliza finally peeked, no doubt enticed by the scent of fresh fruit. Without a word, Silas set a bowl of papaya pieceson the desk before resettling on his bed. Since he had only one bowl, he scooped his fruit directly from the peel.
As he ate, he stole a glance at the princess. Ithadbeen startling to share a bed with her, especially without warning, and though he’d forced a calm demeanor, he’d been certain she would hear the pounding of his heart.
Retreating into sleep had seemed the safest way to deal with a recklessapta.
After finishing his breakfast, Silas wiped his hands and mouth on a handkerchief and set the peel aside. He drew in a deep breath.
“Since your boundaries are clearly lax,” he said, “we should just kiss.”
Eliza choked on her papaya. She turned away, hacking and coughing. Silas found his inner response to be mostly the same, but that didn’t change the straightest path forward.
For clarity, he added, “Yvette said the Cast will break with a kiss.”
It took another few moments for the princess to get control of herself, and her eyes were still watering when she glared at him with near-physical force. “Absolutelynot. How could you even—we can’t just kiss!”
“Why not?” he challenged with a glare of his own.
It wasn’t very academic of him to ask a question he already knew the answer to. In her eyes, he wasn’t a person. Just a monster. Funny how that hadn’t deterred her when she was fearing for her life in an earthquake.
“Because I don’t love you, that’s why not!”
Silas opened his mouth and then closed it. His mind had to catch up with the answer.
“That’s all?” he finally managed.
She stood, apparently trying to emphasize her argument withheight. But even sitting on the edge of his bed, Silas was nearly as tall as she was.
“That’sall?” Eliza repeated. She planted her hands on her hips. “Does love mean so little to you?”
It would be more accurate to say love meant nothing to him. People declared love for selfish reasons or with the intention to manipulate. For example, his father’s love had been brandished like a flag to other nobles whenever Silas performed admirably in what his father expected of him—his academic excellence at Fairfax, his performance of estate duties, even his table manners. But that love had been withheld whenever Silas’s feet slipped from that path.
“I’ve been kissed twice,” Silas said. “Neither one related to love. And to answer your question more specifically, love is an excuse people give to justify their actions.”
Eliza sputtered. Slowly, her hands dropped from her waist, and she stared at him as if he’d made a funeral announcement.
