Page 96 of Sonnets and Serpents
Yvette rose slowly, facing the guard marked with a silver rope at his shoulder. “Your reason for entering so dramatically, Captain?”
The captain grimaced, clearly unhappy with the task at hand. “Yvette Sahin, we will escort you to the dean’s office for questioning in connection with the death of Havva Polat.”
Silas’s heart stopped.
Eliza jumped up, stumbling as her foot caught on the cushion. “That’s ridiculous! Yvette would never—”
Silencing her with a raised hand, Yvette kept her attention on the guard. “My accuser?”
“Kerem Aytac, supporting a witness from Polat’s daughter.”
“He can’t face me himself? Unworthy to be called a snake.” She scoffed. “What evidence is set against me?”
The captain shifted uneasily. “I’m to escort you to Iyal Afshin. Further questions can be asked of him.”
Yvette’s expression had never looked stonier. Straightening, she composed her red scarf, smoothing the twin tails against her shirt, and then she marched from the room as if she were escorting the guards instead of the other way around.
Half the guards remained behind, beginning a search of the room, examining every paper on the desk and every book on the shelves.
Silas couldn’t move. His mind kept replaying the sharpbangof the door, as if he’d yet to process anything beyond the entrance of the guards.
“Silas,dosomething!” Eliza said sharply, kicking her shoe into his.
He scowled up at her. “What do you expect me to do,apta?”
“Tell the guards she’s innocent and this is nonsense!”
He wanted to.
But what if she wasn’t?
In the shadow of every bookshelf, Silas saw the image of his father drawing a sword. His mouth went dry, and his hands grew cold in his lap.
He looked away. “I don’t know anything about Yvette’s private life. For all I know—”
“For all you know, she’s secretly murdering colleagues? Have you lost your mind? She’s your friend! She remembered your birthday even when you didn’t.”
Provoked, Silas finally climbed to his feet, staring Eliza down from his superior height. “And thatmeanssomething? Do you know how many times I looked at my father and thought, ‘He loves me. He gave me a horse, or he boasted to Lord Brightwood about my early acceptance to Fairfax, or he took me on a trip, just the two of us.’ That didn’t stop him from cutting my throat the minute I grew fangs.”
Behind Eliza, Henry grew deathly pale. Silas gave a silent curse.
But maybe he’d been wrong to try to spare the knight this truth. Maybe it was better to warn him about inevitable outcomes.
“That’s what this is about,” Eliza said softly, her coppery eyes full of pain. “Silas, not everyone is your father.”
“No one is,” he said coldly. “Everyone’s their own unique flavor of betrayal.”
Her expression hardened, and she stepped right up to him, forcing him to retreat a pace. “Everyone? Your best friend, who stood by you even as a shapeshifter in Loegria? Your sister, who you said you missed?Me?”
He wavered, then clenched his jaw. She never lowered her challenging gaze.
“After everything we’ve been through,” she said, “do you really think I’d betray you?”
Yes.
Even if her opinion of him had softened over time, he had always been a means to an end, and she had her end now. As soon as the bracelet was off, he would never see her again.
The flavor of that betrayal was particularly bitter.
