The Lady of Toryn Anthology (Lady of Toryn trilogy)
Page 46
“Things are good!” Restlyn exclaimed. “I’ve made a couple of changes- just making Toryn more like it used to be. I hope you don’t mind.”
“Of course not. Everything looks great,” Ashlyn answered, the words thick on her tongue. She turned back towards the ramp. “Maybe I should get Suki settled in.”
Skye was already exiting the airship, and shook his head when she looked up at him. “You need to get ready for your coronation tomorrow,” he said. “Aaron and I will take care of Suki.”
“I know you’re going to love this,” Restlyn said, putting an arm around Ashlyn’s shoulders and purposefully steering the younger girl away from the airship. “I had the ceremonial kimono cleaned for you. Try to contain your excitement.”
Ashlyn groaned. “Seriously, Restlyn?”
“And I even found matching shoes.”
“Restlyn!”
“I’m kidding, I’m kidding.” Restlyn laughed, sounding happier than Ashlyn could ever remember her being. “That stupid kimono is so big no one will know if you wear shoes or not. You could probably wear your regular clothes underneath it. And your sneakers.”
“All the better to use for running away,” Ashlyn muttered under her breath. The sky in Toryn was a gloomy gray, punctuated with ominous-looking storm clouds to match Ashlyn’s mood. With any luck, lightning would strike her father’s house tonight and start a fire to burn up that awful kimono. Restlyn was right- it would be much too big for Ashlyn. Every leader in Toryn history up till now had been a man, and the kimono had been made to fit the Li men. Ashlyn would be all but swallowed up in the thing.
“Where is my dad?” she asked suddenly. “Skye said you already lit the funeral pyre.” Her initial frustration at being absent for the immolation had dissipated when she recalled that, according to Toryn lore, the soul of a noble was trapped within the body until services had been performed. Ashlyn had never believed it herself, but out of respect for Lord Li, Restlyn had constructed the funeral pyre immediately after his body had arrived on the island.
“He’s in the memorial pagoda,” Restlyn answered. “Would you like to go see him?”
Did she want Restlyn to be present the first time she saw her father’s final resting place? No, Ashlyn thought. She wanted to be alone for that. Out loud she said, “No, it’s okay. I’ll go later. I was actually hoping you could give me a hand with my hair.” She had braided it on the airship in an attempt to hide the horrible chop job Skye had done on it last week, but strands were escaping, hanging limply around her ears.
“I’ve been waiting for you to ask me that since the day we beat the shift army,” Restlyn responded, rolling her eyes skyward. “Skye did such a terrible job!”
“Good thing he’s not trying to make a living as a barber,” Ashlyn joked, not feeling humorous in the least. The unexpected haircut had occurred while they’d been fighting Kou’s shift army, and Drake had lost the resist stane and attacked Ashlyn. Skye had saved her, but he’d also managed to shear off half the length of her hair in the process. If there was one thing to be happy about right now, it was that Restlyn could fix the mess Skye had made.
“Do you want to stay in your house tonight?” Restlyn asked. “I didn’t even think about it, I just assumed you’d bunk in with me in your dad’s house, but if you don’t-“
“No, that’d be fine.” Ashlyn brightened momentarily. “It’ll be just like the slumber parties we used to have when we were kids! Except my dad won’t be around for us to tickle his nose with a feather.”
“Maybe we can sneak in and prank Aaron,” Restlyn suggested, a devilish gleam in her eye.
“Oh my gosh, that would be awesome. Warm water trick?”
“Ew!” They both cracked up as they climbed the steps to Lord Li’s house. “Do you remember when we did that to Soryl, the day after I moved in?” Restlyn exclaimed. “And he-“
“Wet the bed and then tried to p-pretend like nothing happened!” Ashlyn slapped her leg, laughing so hard that she could hardly draw a breath. “I swear h-h-he was so stubborn!”
They dissolved into fits of giggles, Ashlyn leaning heavily on the porch railing when her legs threatened to give out. When she had calmed down somewhat, she turned and impulsively gave Restlyn a hug. “I’m so glad you’re here.”
“Me too. I’m excited for your coronation- even with the ceremonial kimono,” Restlyn said loftily, and Ashlyn groaned.
“Just had to bring that up, didn’t you? I swear I’m going to find a way to light that thing on fire.”
“Well, you have less than twelve hours to do it, so start brainstorming.” Restlyn stepped through the doorway and moved aside so that Ashlyn could enter.
The koi pond was exactly the same, elegant fish darting around in its dark depths, some hiding beneath lily pads and others daring to mouth the surface of the water, begging for food.
“I totally forgot about Dad’s stupid fish,” Ashlyn said affectionately. She knelt next to the pond and reached into the pot where Lord Li kept the bread crumbs. When she scattered a handful into the water, there was a flurry of movement as each fish tried to claim their rightful share. Did they even know that their master was gone? For years, Lord Li had fed the fish, nurtured them, helped them grow from tiny little hatchlings no bigger than Ashlyn’s finger into beautiful, colorful adults.
Now they were orphans, just like her.
The hole in her heart was as painful as ever, but at least she could think about her father now without bursting into tears. Vargo had graciously tolerated her blubbering for those first few days, but Ashlyn had struggled to maintain composure in public, constantly plagued with ordinary, everyday reminders of her father. These fish were the same. Ashlyn wanted to sniffle pathetically, but she tamped down the urge. No use crying over what had already transpired. And now that she was in Toryn, she had a pretty good idea that Kou would come to find her. There would be plenty of time to remember her father when she had Koudai Devlyn Lunai on the end of a katana.
“Are you ready to cut your hair?” Restlyn asked. “The scissors are in the kitchen.”
“Yeah,” Ashlyn said, standing up. As she walked to the kitchen, she loosed the end of the plait and began unbraiding her hair. “Can you believe how much Skye cut off?” she complained, twirling one lock around a finger. “It was to my waist. I’ll be lucky now if I can still get it into a ponytail, once we’ve got it all evened out.”
“The good news is that hair always grows back,” Restlyn said diplomatically, pulling a chair out from the table. Ashlyn sat down, noticing that the kitchen was very eastern-style, not traditional Toryn at all. In her home, she had a long, low table with no chairs, just pillows to sit on.
“Did you notice how…progressive everything is?” Ashlyn questioned Restlyn, wrinkling her nose. “The hinged door out front, the table and chairs…my father sure did make a lot of changes while I was gone.”
“Maybe he realized that traditional isn’t necessarily better,” Restlyn replied. She was rummaging around in a drawer, and finally came up with a comb and a pair of scissors. “Okay, hold your head still.”
Ashlyn tried very hard to keep her head from bobbling around while Restlyn ran the comb through her hair. “Sometimes I think traditions are antiquated,” she said, “but then sometimes I wish that people would bring certain traditions back. Like Cosmea- did you know they used to have a chief there?”
It was the dumbest segue in the world, but thankfully Restlyn didn’t seem to care. “Of course. They only did away with chiefs after Lord Angelo took over,” she said, snipping at the back of Ashlyn’s head. “By the time the Free Lands were actually free again, nobody really cared for the idea of having a chief again. That’s why Aik is mayor there now.”
“Don’t you wish they’d have chiefs again?”
“Not really.”
“But I thought your mom was chief.”
Restlyn paused in her snipping. “She was. But that was a long time ago. What makes you bring that up?”
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“Nothing,” Ashlyn muttered, chickening out. “I was just curious.” She gave herself a mental slap in the face for being such a complete coward.
Restlyn worked in silence for a few moments before saying, “I wanted to ask you how things were going with Drake. We didn’t get another chance to talk before you left for North Camp.”
“Oh, that guy. He gives me whiplash. How much did I tell you? I can’t even remember.”
“Nothing,” Restlyn admitted. “Just that there was something going on between you. I didn’t even get any juicy details.”
Drake’s letter was still in Ashlyn’s pocket, and she traced the outline of it through her shorts. “It’s such a long story.”
“Yes, and I have so many other pressing matters keeping me,” Restlyn teased. She bent down in front of Ashlyn, comparing the length of the hair on either side of Ashlyn’s face. “So go ahead and start from the beginning. I know you had a thing for him…you know, back when.”
“You knew that too?” Ashlyn’s cheeks heated. She clearly hadn’t done such a great job of keeping her secret crush a secret.
Restlyn rolled her eyes as she straightened up. “Please, Ash. Anyone could see you were totally smitten with him. While Jenn and I were swooning over Jackson and Skye, you were tagging along at Drake’s heels like a little lost puppy dog.”
“Do you have to put it that way? You make me sound so pathetic.”
“I’m not one to judge others for being pathetic,” Restlyn replied wryly, obviously referring to her longtime adoration for the criminally oblivious Skye Damien. “But I did wonder why. Drake’s a fox, no doubt about it. But he’s also a self-loathing vampire with a boatload of guilt and some serious emotional baggage.”
“I think I like baggage,” Ashlyn said shyly, a shiver running through her when she remembered the morning that she’d woken in the cave behind waterfall and found Drake beside her, his arm cradling her protectively against him.
“That’s obvious. But Drake…well…I never knew he had a thing for ninjas,” Restlyn said, and from the way she said it Ashlyn could tell she was smiling. “I’ve noticed him coming out of his shell lately, especially since he opened the weapons shop and started interacting with people on a regular basis. But I’ve never seen him make a move on a girl. Until now anyway. Spill the beans- how’d he tell you?”
Was there a way to summarize her relationship with Drake? Ashlyn bit her lip, trying to keep from grinning foolishly. “I don’t even know where to start,” she admitted. “A while back I saw him at North Camp Inn with Trace, and something about them- I thought they were together.”
“Together-together?”
“Yeah, together-together. He was smiling when I saw him, and I was just so mortified that he’d picked someone completely the opposite of me- I was just disgusted with myself.”
“He was with Trace?” Restlyn’s tone was surprised.
“Yes, but it’s only because he has an agreement with the Spartans to meet once a year. It’s just in case he ever loses resist.”
Restlyn snapped her fingers. “Now that I think about it, they have dropped by once a year, like clockwork, except for last year. Ellis comes into the tavern and drinks all my Landian ale. I never put two and two together.” She paused. “So when you came to Storim and we all met up again, you thought he was with Trace?”
“Yup. But then- but then he kept doing things that made me think he was interested.”
“Like what?”
“Like…” Ashlyn felt herself blushing again. “Um, like when I was joking around with him in Cosmea, and I asked if he’d dance with me at the Landslide Festival, thinking for sure he’d hightail it outta there. Except he didn’t. The way he looked at me was enough to give me chills. And then again after Soryl passed away. I was…I was so depressed and frustrated. I didn’t feel like I could ever be Lady of Toryn, not with the way things were going. But he stuck around and helped me. He told me that being Lady of Toryn was my destiny, and that my destiny was going to find me no matter how far I ran.” She ran her fingers over her knuckles on her opposite hand, remembering how he’d healed her after she’d beat the tar out of an innocent hardwood floor that was just minding its own business.
Restlyn sighed, obviously a sucker for a good love story. “What else? Did he make the first move?”
That wasn’t such a pleasant memory. Ashlyn frowned. “No. I did.”
She didn’t say anything else, but Restlyn wasn’t about to let it go. “And? What happened?”
“He was such a jerk. He totally blew me off. Actually, it was the night I sneaked out of Toryn. I tried to tell him how I felt and he totally freaked out.”
“Was that why you left?” Restlyn demanded. She moved around in front of Ashlyn and leaned down, bracing her hands on the arms of the chair. “You left that night because of Drake Lockhart? He never mentioned anything! I should kick his butt for putting you through that!”
“It’s not like he forced me to leave,” Ashlyn said uncomfortably. “And he did apologize, later.”
Restlyn looked skeptical. “How much later?”
“After he and Skye found me and we rescued my dad. After he lost resist and got it back again.” She decided not to tell Restlyn about how Drake had bitten her, thinking it probably wouldn’t score him any points with the dark-haired martial artist. “He…he kissed me.”
Seemingly placated, Restlyn went back to haircutting. “Was it incredibly romantic?”
Was it? Ashlyn’s mind wandered back to that night, when she was lying in the grass with Drake on top of her, his mouth moving over hers, his body pressed against hers.
“It was,” she admitted, embarrassed. “And honestly, after that I thought we were set, like he was over his issues with being a giant angst monster and had finally admitted to himself that we should be together. But after I talked to you that day, I went to see Vargo, and Drake ran into me when I came out of the healing lodge…” She trailed off, a scowl forming on her face. “He told me I deserved better, that he was a monster, all the usual stuff.”
“Good grief.” Restlyn set the scissors down on the table and picked up the comb again. “It’s been twenty years. You’d think he’d get over it at some point.”
“I know, right?” Ashlyn was still smarting from that particular rejection, although she supposed the letter Drake had written her- along with sharing his blood to save her life back at the Heavenly City- should make up for his momentary lapse in judgment. “It’s such a long story,” she continued, shifting in the chair so she could pull the letter out of her pocket. “When he found me in the Heavenly City, I wasn’t in any shape to be talking about relationships. But he sent me this letter in Cosmea.”
Restlyn snatched the folded square of paper out of Ashlyn’s hand. “He wrote a love letter? Is it romantic? Does he declare his undying love? Does he ask you to marry him?”
“Ew.” Ashlyn grimaced. “I don’t want to get married. Ever.”
“So he didn’t propose?” Restlyn had already unfolded the letter and was reading it when she sank into a chair in front of Ashlyn, burgundy eyes scanning the single sheet of paper hungrily. Even when she got the bottom of the page, she went back up to the top again, seemingly re-reading it over again.
Finally she turned back to Ashlyn. “That is one hell of a love letter,” she said incredulously.
Ashlyn felt stupid, blushing for what felt like the millionth time in ten minutes. “That’s what I thought too,” she said. “I’m not just imagining it, then. He really wrote that he loves me?”
“He really wrote it.” Restlyn leaned back in her chair, shaking her head. “Wow. This is a big deal. I mean, I know this letter’s pretty stoic, but it’s still...a huge deal. Especially considering that Drake wrote it, and he’s not exactly known for being talkative about his feelings.”
“I know.” Ashlyn grinned, feeling slightly giddy despite everything else that was going on. “I can’t wait to see him again. He’s not still he
re, is he?”
“He left a few days ago to go check on his shop, and the tavern,” Restlyn answered. She refolded the letter carefully and handed it to Ashlyn. “Do you know when you’ll see him again?”
“No idea. But I’m sure it will be soon. I’m not about to let him off the hook after a letter like that.”
“Atta girl.” Restlyn stood and held out a hand. “You’re all done. Do you want to check out your new haircut?”
“Do I have to?” Ashlyn joked, but she stood and moved obediently to the mirror hanging in the hall. Restlyn hadn’t even bothered to wet down her hair before cutting it, but she supposed the older girl knew what she was doing.
It was definitely short- almost as short as it had been three years ago. The longest parts grazed the base of her jaw, and there was a long sweep of bangs across her forehead, blending in with some of the shorter layers that Restlyn had cut into the rest of her hair.
“It looks nice,” she said diplomatically.
“Oh, honey,” Restlyn squeezed her shoulders. “I know you miss your long hair, but it’ll grow back eventually. And at least now you don’t look like you got your head stuck in the propeller of a motorboat.”
“I did not look like that,” Ashlyn protested hotly, and followed the other girl back into the kitchen, where Restlyn grabbed a broom from the corner and began sweeping. Ashlyn pulled off her shirt and shook it out into the wastebasket, trying to rid herself of as much loose hair as possible.
“So what about Vargo?” Restlyn asked innocently, and Ashlyn paused in mid-shake.
“What? What about Vargo?” she said, glancing over her shoulder.
Restlyn kept sweeping. “You know how fast word travels in Toryn. And the walls of the healing lodge aren’t exactly soundproof.”
Oh, great. So everyone in Toryn knew about that argument? “How is it possible that you know about that but had no clue what’s been going on with Drake?” Ashlyn retorted, trying to avoid having to answer.
“Maybe because you and Drake weren’t screaming at each other?”
“Vargo and I weren’t screaming,” Ashlyn murmured, and pursed her lips. “He says he loves me- but then you probably already knew that.”