Page 187 of Daughter of the Serpent

“You fell in love with him, didn’t you?” he asked gently.

Her eyes widened at his bluntness - but her throat clenched too tight to answer.

She couldn’t deny it. But she couldn’t say it either.

“I don’t know what I feel,” she said instead, her voice raw. “What if… what if I was a fool? What if he never cared?”

Godvick was quiet a long moment.

“You weren’t a fool,” he said at last. “Just a heart brave enough to believe.”

She stared into the flames a moment longer, letting the heat sting her eyes.

“What will you do now?” he asked.

She set the mug down and stood.

“I have to find him.”

“Sylvie - ”

“Not to forgive,” she added quickly. “Not yet. But I need the truth. And I won’t find it sitting here.”

She turned toward the door, but Godvick caught her arm.

“Haldor won’t allow it,” he said. “You know how fiercely he guards you.”

A ragged breath left her lungs. “Too fiercely.”

Godvick nodded slowly. “Maybe he has a reason.”

Her brows furrowed.

“Sylvie… he’s in love with you.”

Her eyes flared.

“That’s not true.”

“It is,” Godvick said quietly. “Even if you don’t want it to be. Even if he doesn’t want it to be.”

The air seemed to leave her body.

“You’ll have a choice to make before the end,” he added.

She shook her head, nausea curling in her gut.

“I thought I already made it.”

Godvick gave a small nod, sadness in his gaze.

She shook her head, the information too much, this whole night about to tip her over the edge of oblivion. “None of this will matter come morning,” she said finally, voice flat. “But I need to know the truth.”

He held her gaze.

“Then go. But don’t let himsee you.”

Her breath came in plumes, curling like mist in the moonlight as she slipped from Godvick’s home. The night air was sharp, biting at her cheeks. Above, the wind combed through the tree - tops, a low, mournful cry that pulled at her cloak and whispered through the dark. Branches clutched at her skirts as she moved through the underbrush, her steps placed carefully, swift and silent, moving as Axel had taught her - soundless as the night itself.

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