The Lady of Toryn Anthology (Lady of Toryn trilogy) (48 page)

“Hang on a second.”

She glanced back at him. “Yes, oh
wise leader?”

“You’re the leader now,” he said
seriously, and grinned when she rolled her eyes. “No, really. I know you’re
scared about the whole Lady of Toryn thing, but you’ll be fine. Just trust me.
This is your chance to be a leader, Ash. It’s your turn to be a hero and do the
right thing. Don’t let it pass by. Don’t live your life with regret.”

The self-loathing that tinged his
voice was evident. Ashlyn looked away. “Yeah,” she said quietly. “I’ll remember
that. Thanks, Skye.”

“Anytime.”

She stood at the door for a long
time, listening to Skye’s boots crunch on the gravel as he walked away and
wondering if he was ever going to take his own advice and let go of Jenn’s
death.

 
“Restlyn?” she said, knocking gently on the
doorframe. Ordinarily she would have barged right in like she owned the place,
but considering Restlyn had been acting as interim Lady of Toryn for a few days
now, Ashlyn figured the least she could do was be polite.

“Come on in,” Restlyn yelled, and
Ashlyn rolled her eyes. So much for formalities.

She pulled the door open, smiling
as she noted once again that it was one of the only eastern-style doors in
Toryn, on swinging hinges instead of the traditional sliding tracks. Her father
was so progressive, in his own subtle way.

“I’m in the study,” Restlyn
called.

Ashlyn detoured around the koi
pond and down the hall to her father’s study, smiling as she stepped into the
room and found Restlyn nearly hidden behind several large piles of scrolls and
stacks of books.

“This looks just like it did when
I was little,” Ashlyn said, running her fingers fondly over the leather binding
of the nearest tome. “Back when Dad used to read all the time. It was hard to
get him out in the sunlight. He was so consumed by traditions and etiquette
and…and then…”

She trailed off, biting her lip.
And then the war had happened, and Restlyn had come to live with them, and her
mother had died. Her father had stopped reading after that.

“It’s been interesting to see how
many of the smaller details your dad has kept in place,” Restlyn said, glancing
up. Her chocolate hair was falling in her eyes, and she pushed it back with one
hand, grinning, looking fresh-faced, pretty, and happier than Ashlyn had seen
her in a long time.

“Did you notice that there is a
cherry blossom tree situated northeast of every house in town?” the older girl
continued, pointing at a map spread on the floor beside her. “It’s ancient
Toryn tradition, as a way to honor Drago. I never even noticed.”

“Me neither.” Ashlyn crossed her
ankles, dropping gracelessly to the floor in front of Restlyn. “But honestly,
Dad had no issues with the lesser lords turning Toryn into a tourist trap and
sacrificing whatever dignity our culture might have had, so I can’t see why he
would care about any of the smaller details.”

“To each his own, I guess,”
Restlyn said, shrugging. “I wouldn’t have done it myself, but maybe your father
thought it was the only way.”

“Maybe.” Ashlyn propped her elbow
on her knee and leaned her chin on her hand, craning her neck to try to see
what was in the book Restlyn had in her lap. “Everybody says you’ve been doing
a great job running the city by yourself.”

“Me? No. It’s been running
itself. I’ve just been supervising,” Restlyn replied, but she was smiling. “You
know my mom did this too- in Cosmea, before she died. She enjoyed working
alongside the people rather than just giving them orders, and they loved her
for it. I’ve been thinking about her every day that I’ve been here. She set
such a great example on how to be one of the people, not just above the people.
I can’t imagine just sitting on your throne, telling people what to do. It
would drive me crazy!”

“I can’t even imagine being in
charge,” Ashlyn said ruefully, scratching her elbow. She paused, remembering
how she’d given orders to the rest of FLD that day in Heaven, just before Kou’s
army had attacked. “Well, not permanently, anyway. It’s a little different when
it’s spur of the moment.”

Restlyn leaned forward and patted
Ashlyn’s shoulder, a silly gesture that made them both smile. “Don’t worry,
Ash. This job is pretty cushy. You’re going to be a great Lady of Toryn. And
just think- you get to wear the ceremonial kimono and everything on the day of
your coronation.”

They both groaned in unison,
looking over at the ceremonial kimono on display in a glass case in the corner.
Not only was the thing huge- much larger than whatever size Ashlyn actually
wore- but it was bright red, decorated with garish orange flowers and green
birds. It was supposedly a huge honor to wear it during the coronation
ceremony, but Ashlyn was kind of hoping the people of Toryn would be lenient
enough to forget the ceremonial kimono and just let her wear her shorts.

 
“So,” Restlyn spoke up, breaking into Ashlyn’s
thoughts, “tell me what’s going on with you.” She arched one perfect eyebrow.
“There’s something between you and Drake. I know it.”

Ashlyn couldn’t stop the blush
that rose up her neck, setting her cheeks on fire. “That obvious, huh,” she
said weakly, and put a hand to her face, trying to cool it.

Restlyn gasped, bouncing in place
as she clapped her hands delightedly. “Tell me what happened!” she exclaimed.
“You look so
guilty
!”

The events of the last several
weeks flitted through Ashlyn’s mind, including that day in her father’s home,
when Drake had comforted her while she was grieving for Soryl. Where should she
start?
When
should she start? This
felt like something that had been bubbling inside her for weeks, months,
years-
she didn’t even know where to
begin.

Suddenly Restlyn was leaning
forward, arms going round Ashlyn as she pulled the younger ninja into a hug.
“I’m so happy for you,” she said simply, sniffling into Ashlyn’s shoulder. It
was surprising. There was no condemnation in Restlyn’s tone, no judgment or
reprimand. She was offering congratulations, with no strings attached.

It certainly wasn’t what Ashlyn
had expected from the first person to find out about her relationship with
Drake.

Despite her own excitement and
happiness, Ashlyn felt her heart break a little for the other girl. How long
had Restlyn been desperately in love with Skye? It had been obvious in the
first few days they’d traveled together, more than three years ago. How long
would it last? Would Skye ever return the feelings?

She hugged Restlyn back fiercely,
wishing with all her might that her best friend would someday find happiness,
with or without Skye.

After a long embrace, Restlyn
drew back, and her face was wet with tears. “Goodness, I’m sorry,” she said,
dabbing at her eyes with the corner of her sleeve in an uncharacteristic move.
“I’ve been so over-emotional lately. I think it’s just being back in Toryn. I
really never thought I’d see the island again, so being here is...unexpected.”
She suddenly looked a little wistful. “It’s a shame that everyone we knew as
kids has moved on. I don’t think any of my friends stayed in Toryn.”

“Nobody wants to stick around in
a dying city,” Ashlyn said slowly, remembering Endro’s abandoned streets. She
had no desire to be Lady of Toryn, but she couldn’t stand by and let the city
of her ancestors crumble to the ground. She sighed and rubbed a hand across her
eyes. “We’re leaving soon to go visit my father in North Camp. I wanted to stop
by and make sure you were handling everything okay- but it looks like you’ve
got it all under control.”

“Just until you’re ready to take
over,” the half-Toryn girl said, offering an easy smile.
 
“Have a safe trip. I’m so glad that your
father is going to be okay.”

Ashlyn stood and turned to leave,
then hesitated. “You know, Restlyn, I’m going to talk to him about you being
Scorned,” she said, fidgeting with the hem of her shirt. “Obviously it doesn’t
stand now, but we both know what he did was wrong and hurtful. He needs to
apologize.”

“I know, and I’d like that,”
Restlyn answered, and Ashlyn glanced over her shoulder, surprised at the reply.
Restlyn grinned ruefully. “I’m not saying I’ll move back to Toryn. But I’d like
to know that I could if I wanted to, and not have to suffer any of the elders
condemning me. I always felt like this was my home- not Cosmea, and definitely
not Storim.”

Ashlyn smiled. “I’ll see what I
can do.”

Chapter 8

Monsters and
Royals

Ashlyn made her way towards the
healing lodge, carrying her book with her and wondering for the first time if
perhaps Restlyn was a better option to select as her successor than Skye. Was
there any way that a half-Toryn could become Lady? Restlyn had been brought to
Toryn and adopted into the Li family following her mother’s death in Cosmea, so
that did give Restlyn some status within the Toryn community.

Ashlyn took off her shoes before
entering the lodge. Although she had noticed that most of the old traditions
were overlooked in Toryn now, it didn’t feel right to enter a place of magic
wearing grubby old sneakers.

“Come in,” Vargo snapped when she
knocked on the doorframe. When she slid the door open and stepped inside, he
had his pillow over his face, his face hidden but his bandaged wrists and arms
showing. There was a book on the sheet next to him.

“I didn’t know you could read,”
Ashlyn said teasingly, and he nudged the pillow out of the way, immediately
brightening when he saw her.

“It’s this new thing I’m trying.”
He tried to sit up, but fell back, grimacing with the effort. “Apparently…girls
dig…ugh…learned men.”

“Depends on the girl, I guess.”
Ashlyn eased herself down into a sitting position beside his mat, put the book
on the floor and reached over to help him, propping the pillow behind him to
keep him upright. The bandages swathed his arms from wrist to elbow. He was
shirtless, with his abdomen wrapped in gauze. Ashlyn found herself noting the
solidness of his heavily muscled upper arms and well-defined, scarred chest
before she averted her eyes, blushing, and tried to sound light-hearted. “You
look pretty awesome right now. No joke. I’d never guess you almost died last
night.”

“Almost died? Yeah, right. I’d
never kick it without a sweeping exit.”

He was parroting the same words
back to her that she had said that night in Storim, when she first found out
about Devlyn and his war on FLD. The humor was lost on Ashlyn, though, as she
was hit rather suddenly with the realization that her entire world had
completely changed in the few short weeks since she had walked into Restlyn
Place.

That night she had still regarded
the Spartans as enemies, but today she was sitting next to a Spartan who had
wormed his way into her heart and- more importantly- saved her life. That night
she had called Drake a two-faced liar, but now they were- they were
something.
Courting? In a relationship?
It was difficult to label, whatever
it
was.

“I’m glad you’re okay,” she said,
turning her attention back to Vargo. “And I mean ‘okay’ as in not dead after
saving my butt yesterday.”

His eyes were fixed on hers, and
he somehow managed to look nonchalant by quirking one corner of his mouth
briefly. “It’s not often I get the chance to play hero in front of you, Ash.
Even less often that I get to show you how I feel without you knocking me out
or running.”

“I don’t run,” she protested.

“I seem to remember two specific
occasions where you fled after I kissed you, princess,” he said.

“Those were…special situations.”
She cringed at the silliness of her own wording.

Vargo grinned. “They were pretty
special.”

She shifted uncomfortably, and
stared down at her hands. There really wasn’t any way out of this. “Vargo,
I’m…”
Totally at a loss for words. How do
I explain this to you?

“Speechless? Head over heels for
me? Completely turned on by my heroics?”

He was so adorably annoying that
she had to smile. “You’re not in any condition to be flirting.”

“Babe, I’m in condition for more
than flirting,” he said, and his gaze was so direct that Ashlyn started
blushing again.

“I’m…not going to deny that
there’s something between us, Vargo,” she said. “I’m not going to lie and say
I’m not attracted to you, or that I don’t care about you, or that I’m not…
incredibly
grateful for what you did yesterday.”
She paused.

His eyes had shifted as she
spoke, his expression more guarded. “Go on,” he prompted flatly.

“I...love Drake,” she said.

Vargo was silent for a moment,
clearly unsurprised.

“Does he love you?” he asked at
last.

Another pause.

“I don’t know.”

“You don’t
know?
”

“That’s right, I don’t know,”
Ashlyn said testily. “That’s not really so unusual, Vargo. I don’t know his
every thought and this- this relationship is so new that it’s not like we’ve
discussed all of it in detail.”