Page 93 of Sonnets and Serpents
“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.”
“Adventureis not the word I’d use.Headachewould 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, “Andlord. 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 Iknowshe’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.”
“Anhour?” Henry repeated as another tremor rolled through.
