Page 130 of Sonnets and Serpents
It was knowing that as much as Silas belonged in Pravusat, a place where he could be wholly himself, she belonged at home.
And it was knowing that she had no right to force Silas to choose love, to chooseher. He had his own goals, his own fears,and if she tried to force him to be the romantic hero of her dreams, then he wouldn’t be Silas anymore.
“You must hate me,” Eliza whispered, “knowing I’m choosing not to be with you when I can’t be with him either.” She gripped the railing, eyes on the waves breaking against the ship.
Henry rested his hand gently over hers. “I’ll always be grateful,” he said, “to the girl who crossed an ocean to save me.”
He squeezed her hand, and then he left the deck.
The carriage ride from the port to the castle felt more excruciatingly lengthy than the entire ocean voyage. Snow dusted the landscape, welcoming Eliza back with a glittering, sharp cold that pricked her lungs and made her feel alive.
But it wasn’t until she saw her sister that she felthome.
Aria waited impatiently in the palace courtyard, braving the cold in a thick cloak rather than staying inside where it was warm, even though she’d surely been advised otherwise, even though she was now aqueen. And before the carriage even rolled to a stop, she ran to the door, throwing it open and shouting Eliza’s name.
Eliza threw herself into her tall sister’s arms, relishing the warmth of her embrace and the familiar scent of her lilac perfume. As she listened to Aria’s scolding and her worry and her relief, all of it echoed in Eliza’s own heart.
And later that night, once they were finally alone in Aria’s room, snuggled in quilts before a crackling fire, Eliza told her sistereverything.
As crown princess, Eliza was now a part of the Upper Court, and Aria held twice as many meetings as their father ever had, so most days, Eliza found herself slowly going mad on a cushioned chair in the throne room, listening to people argue about the best ways to handle changing the laws around magic.
She spoke out in defense of Affiliates whenever she could, but it always left her thinking how Silas would have said it so much better.
When she wasn’t in meetings, she was planning the quickly approaching wedding for her sister. Just as Aria didn’t care about the details of her birthday celebrations, she’d left her wedding in the hands of their mother, and Eliza stepped in to make sure the dowager queen didn’t get toocarried away in her own preferences.
It gave Eliza something to do other than play a harp to an empty room, pretending it was an echoing university music hall.
Family meals had been scarce before she left home, but they were nonexistent now. She saw her family members one at a time or not at all, as if they lived on separate islands instead ofwithin the same castle. And with her father’s reclusiveness, she’d begun to think his island had floated away, until, one day, she rounded a tall shelf in the library and ran directly into the former king.
“Father,” Eliza squeaked out. “I didn’t expect ...”
He and Aria were so alike: tall and dark-haired, skin a half shade darker than Eliza and the queen’s, and a presence that made it seem they could accomplish anything. But where Aria carried an abundance of compassion, their father had always been severe.
Eliza braced herself for a lecture or a silent, curt nod.
Instead, her father’s voice emerged in a softer tone than she’d ever heard it. “What book are you looking for?”
At first, she sputtered. Then she managed, “Something on Loegria’s founding. I’m trying—for Aria’s wedding, you know. She ... she likes history.”
He scanned the shelves, and in the end, he took down a book she wouldn’t have been able to reach without the footstool. He extended it like a peace offering.
All Eliza could do was stare.
“I heard the knight returned with you,” Father said at last, his voice a little stronger, a little more like his old self. “If you’d like, I could make arrangements with Lord Wycliff.”
Offering her a book was one thing, but awedding? The old Eliza would have been thrilled, would have been so swept up in the joy of it as to swoon against the bookshelves.
Now, she swallowed.
“I brought Henry home,” she whispered, “but I don’t want to marry him.”
Guilt flared within, and before he could criticize her, she rushed to say it first. “I’m a subject ofwhims, just as you said.”
Her father looked away.
After a moment, he opened the book in his hands, searchingthe pages. His eyes remained down as he spoke. “I taught you that an unyielding path is the only strength. Your sister believes a greater strength is knowing when to change.”
He handed her the book, opened to a chapter entitled “Arthur and Louise: The First Royal Wedding of Loegria.”
