Page 129 of Sonnets and Serpents
For the hundredth time, she told herself to speak to him about the important things, the things they hadn’t addressed.
She was down to her final day to do it.
After a stretch of silence, Henry said, “We haven’t actually been gone that long. A few months. Feels like an eternity.”
Eliza swallowed. “We crossed into the new year.”
That felt symbolic for how time had stretched into something bigger. How it could feel like she’d left half her life behind with Silas.
Had he read the note in her sonnet book? Or had he set the love poems aside without a second glance?
It didn’t matter either way. She had to look forward. That was the decision she’d made by coming home.
“Henry, I—”
Her voice deserted her. The coward.
Henry watched her with gentle hazel eyes. “How do you say ‘new year’ in Pravish?”
“Yeni basi.”
She remembered toasting with Yvette and Baris, remembered the happy smile on Silas’s face that he couldn’t hold back.New year, new skin.
Eliza had shed her skin in Pravusat. When she’d first arrived, she’d been determined to pretend she was still the same girl as before her curse, to ignore the shift inside that changed how she navigated the world. She’d clung to the same beliefs, the same love—whatever could anchor her to the past. But whether she wanted it to or not, the past drifted away, and she couldn’t hope to sail while fastened to an anchor. That would only tear her apart.
And maybe, if she kept looking, she’d come to appreciate the new girl in the mirror, through both the storms and the swells.
“I thought you might stay.” Henry kept his eyes on the horizon as he spoke. He hesitated, then said, with obvious significance, “For Silas.”
Eliza’s restraint broke, her voice hitching as she turned. “Henry, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to keep it secret. I just—”
A surge of the ship interrupted, making her stumble. She reached out with one hand, and Henry caught it, steadying her.
“You didn’t.” His voice remained gentle. A faint smile even crossed his face. “Anyone could see the way you look at him.”
She struggled to catch her bearings again, torn between wanting to cling to his hand and feeling like she should let go. Inwardly, she screamed—because love shouldn’t hurt so much. It should be joyous, like the sonnets promised. It should besimple and straightforward, with lonely princesses always swept up by gallant knights.
But life wasn’t straightforward; it was messy. And on her way to a knight, she’d fallen for a snake.
At last, Eliza released Henry’s hand, standing on her own.
“I didn’t mean to be unfair to you,” she choked out.
“Eliza, yousavedme. Unfair isn’t what I’d call it.” But she could see the tight lines in his throat, the pain carefully held back while he maintained a reassuring expression.
She swiped at her eyes with the heel of her hand. “Then why does it hurt?”
“Sometimes life takes a different path than we wanted.”
“Like when it turns us into rats?” She tried for a smile, then faltered, wondering if she’d caused him more pain. “You’re still a knight. You’re still just as wonderful as before.”
“I felt like a knight again, using it to help people.” He cleared his throat, folding his arms. “Anyway, I really thought ... you would stay.”
Eliza had considered it. Part of her had entertained a grand vision of loving Silas and living as a university student instead of a princess, playing thekiyumwhile he listened and then listening while he read, stealing kisses in the library—
But that was a fantasy.
There was duty to consider, but it was more than that. It was missing her sister so much she ached. It was knowing that if she stayed in the harsh climate and culture of Pravusat, she would wither up inside. She would shed another skin, but this one would put her too far from herself.
