Page 99 of Sonnets and Serpents
“Time for a break?” Henry suggested.
Silas shook his head, speaking through gritted teeth. “We have to find where Iyal Havva was killed.”
“What’s your plan for that?” Eliza folded her arms, staring him down. “Are you going to wander the city, knocking on doors and asking, ‘Was anyone killed here lately?’”
“Think we’ll have more success searching for murders in the inns andbirahans? Or should we skip straight to underground tunnels?”
“First, you sit. Then we figure out the rest.”
Aided by Henry, who made himself a nonnegotiable crutch, Silas limped out of the building and onto a bench beneath a shady tree. They were on the south side of campus, looking down the hill over the bustling spread of Izili. In the distance, a ship left the harbor, pointed toward the horizon. Eliza tried not to think of home, but Henry’s words stuck like sap in her mind.
I can’t go home. Not yet.
Eliza hadn’t intended to stay away forever ... had she?
She’d declared as much in her runaway note to Aria—If exile is to be Henry’s sentence, I choose to bear it as well—but she’d always known her sister would grant him a pardon as soon as she could. Not only that, but as soon as Eliza had arrived in Pravusat, she’d missed home. She missed the shadow of the mountain and the crisp winter cold. She missed her sister and her mother.
There was the matter of duty as well. Eliza was crown princess now, though she’d never wanted to be, and it was her responsibility to share some of the burden Aria was currentlycarrying alone. She’d let her sister down in so many other ways, and while the search for Henry had kept that guilt at bay, now it pulled on her like a rope, trying to drag her where she belonged.
If Henry decided to stay, would she return home alone? Was that the right thing to do, and was she even strong enough to do it?
Not so long ago, she would have said the right thing was always choosing love.
But matters didn’t feel simple anymore.
“We need to speak to Ceyda again,” Eliza said. “She has the best chance of knowing something that can help us retrace Iyal Havva’s steps.”
Silas started to rise, but she ordered him sternly back down.
“You’re going to have to climb all the stairs in the Yamakaz,” she said, “so take ten minutes to rest first. Besides, I need to speak to Henry. In private.”
“I’ll plug my ears,” Silas drawled, settling back on the bench.
Eliza drew Henry off as far as her bracelet would allow. He tensed, as if expecting an accusation. Honestly, she wasn’t certain what she wanted to say. It only felt like the storm was growing, and she needed to find a clear heading before the waves turned unmanageable.
“Do you think your horse misses you?” she blurted.
She winced as soon as the question was out of her mouth. In lunging to avoid any uncomfortable topics, she’d instead landed on a silly one.
But Henry relaxed, breaking into his warm smile.
“Tidalwave?” He gave a small laugh. “To be honest, he was never particularly loyal. Downright grumpy, too, if he’s not in the arena at least once a week. I’d be delighted to know how many times he’s thrown Hugh by now. I’m sure between all the Wycliff boys, Tides is well taken care of and has never given my absence a second thought.”
Eliza smiled but shook her head. “I highly doubt that. I find it unthinkable that you could disappear from anyone’s life without them feeling a profound absence, even if that person was a grumpy horse.”
“He certainly didn’t carry enough concern to chase me.” Henry came a step closer, then halted, scuffing his boot across the dirt path. “What I mean is, I still haven’t found a way to properly thank you, Eliza. I doubt I ever could.”
She could think of a few romantic gestures, and yet he made none of them, just slid his hands in his pockets and continued shuffling his feet.
A dangerous question tumbled from her lips. “Henry, what are we to each other?”
He lifted his shoulders, more shield than shrug. “I don’t know.”
Inside, she felt the helm slipping from her fingers. She gripped tighter.
“Well, you could make a few guesses, at least,” she said hotly.
If anything, he looked more pained. “I know I made promises, and I meant all of them at the time, I swear. I still mean them. Or at least I ... I want to. Eliza, you deserve so much, but the truth is—right now, I don’t know whoIam. Do you understand?”
