Page 135 of Sonnets and Serpents
With each word, Eliza’s heart sank. Silas had come on behalf of Iyal Afshin. He wasn’t here to stay. Apparently, he’d meant to slip in and out without ever seeing her.
Woodenly, she thanked the dean, and then she returned to the antechamber.
Silas’s eyes met hers at once, and he tensed, perhaps anticipating another edible projectile. She ordered her entourage to wait outside the room; she wanted as much privacy as possible.
Forcing composure, she said, “I’m sorry to have interrupted your diplomatic mission, and I’m sorry for the ... sandwiches.”
He stood from his chair, and he opened his mouth but closed it with a grimace.
“I’ll leave you to it, then, Mr. Bennett.”
As she stepped past him, his hand snaked out to catch hers. Not in any innocent way, but with fingers tangled, his grip desperate. He pulled her into his arms.
She shoved away. “You can’tdothat! You can’t keep giving me hope only to—”
“It wasn’t supposed to be this way,” he interrupted. “I was supposed to get my professorship here settled first. I was supposed to get your sister to approve establishing a warlockry curriculum. I was supposed to face my family, andthen—”
“What are you talking about?” she demanded.
“I had a plan! A well-thought-out and reasonable plan, and when Ididface you, it was going to be after I’d written everything down, after I had the right words and knew where I stood at court and at the university and regarding a princess. After I knew what I had to offer.”
Eliza’s fury puffed out like an extinguished candle, leaving the slow smoke of hope wafting in its place.
“Silas,” she whispered, “what are you saying?”
“Nothing well,” he muttered. He rubbed his hands over his face, and she noticed the subtle pink shade to his ears that marked his blush.
Her lips twitched, but she didn’t dare smile yet.
“Use your words, Silas Bennett, and tell me what this means.”
The last time she’d insisted on that, he’d broken her heart. But broken things could mend. She believed in that as strongly as she believed in love.
And she would take the risk to hear that one impossible word from him.
He drew her into his arms again, and this time, she didn’t resist. Gently, he brushed his knuckles across her cheek, as if memorizing her outline. And then his dark eyes met hers.
“In three languages”—his voice cracked—“I can’t find the words for what I feel, because language can’t describe the depth of it. Poetry has never penned, tongue has never tasted, magic has never matched the connection my soul feels to yours.”
Eliza’s eyes misted with tears, but she smiled through them, leaning into his hand. “Careful, I might think you believe in love after all.”
“Someone did recently tell me I was wrong more often than I’d admit.”
“She sounds wise. Maybe you should cross an ocean for her.”
“Maybe I did.”
Everything inside her swelled, pulled toward him as if gravity itself had reoriented. Her feet had surely left the floor.
“I’m in love with you,” she said. “Some of it happened by accident, some by dare, and some, I insist, by fate. But from this moment on, it’s a choice.” She pressed her hand to his chest, feeling his heartbeat match the same erratic, joyous rhythm ashers. “I’ll choose to be yours, Silas, if you’ll only choose me too. If you tell me you want me, then I’ll choose to love youforever, snakeskin and all.”
He held her more tightly, and his response almost broke her heart again, but for a different reason.
“I’m afraid.” He paused, drawing in a shuddering breath and blinking away a sheen of tears from his eyes. “I really do hate this country, Eliza. I hate what’s happened to people like me here, and I’m afraid I’ll wind up just as bitter as ...”
Just as bitter as Kerem.
“But you still came back for me?” she whispered.
