The Lady of Toryn Anthology (Lady of Toryn trilogy) (66 page)

“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?”

“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 here, 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.”

Restlyn said nothing, waiting for Ashlyn to
continue.

“Gosh, Restlyn, do you really want every detail of
my love life? I don’t remember you being this nosy.”

“Excuse me for wanting some romance in my life!”
Restlyn exclaimed. “Particularly considering just how incredibly
non-existent
my own love life is.”

“You should tell Skye how you feel,” Ashlyn said,
pulling her shirt back on. “He’s an idiot. Maybe he just needs a kick in the
pants.”

“Believe me, he knows how I feel,” Restlyn said,
scowling. She leaned down to sweep the loose hair into a dustpan. “But that
still doesn’t explain what happened with Vargo. He saved your life, Ash. I know
Drake’s letter is a big deal, but- well, attacking a bear with nothing but your
fists to save the woman you love is a big deal, too.”