Regret (Lady of Toryn Trilogy) (15 page)

He cracked a grin at that, conceding
her point silently.

“Anyway, I’m not fifteen
anymore.”

He raised an eyebrow. “I’m well
aware of that.”

She mimicked the movement,
quirking her eyebrow back at him.

He sighed, and it was a
long-suffering sound. Poor beleaguered vampire. “You complicate things for me.”

“I know.” They’d had a similar
conversation by the lake. “Why?”

“Surely you have to see why,
Ashlyn. Trace is…very…safe. We are friends. There is no complication.”

“I’m your friend,” she said,
wounded.

“Yes, but...” He paused, and
smiled, a little self-consciously. “I want more.”

With great effort, Ashlyn somehow
refrained from jumping up and screaming ecstatically at the top of her lungs.

“Oh?” she managed.

Drake looked distinctly
uncomfortable after that admission, and after a moment he stood up, his boots
scraping against the concrete floor.

“You’re leaving?” Ashlyn said,
disappointed. She’d been hoping for some mad, passionate declaration of love,
but she supposed that wasn’t Drake’s style.

He nodded.

The silence, by now a familiarity
to Ashlyn when Drake was around, stretched on for several heartbeats. She
stared hard at the book on the table, determined not to appear overzealous.
Whatever was happening with Drake, she didn’t want to crowd him.

“If for some reason I’m not at
the designated meeting place to greet the Spartans, Jackson has given them
orders to find me immediately,” he said at length.

She looked up, a little surprised
that he’d gone back to the topic of the Spartans. “To do what?”

He turned to face her. “To
ascertain whether or not I still have
resist.”
His eyes were encouraging, urging her to keep pressing.

Ashlyn bit her lower lip, feeling
suddenly a little apprehensive about where this was going. “And if you don’t
have it?”

“They have instructions to
attempt to use a second
resist
stane
to subdue me…or kill me if the attempt is unsuccessful.”

He was so casual about the
subject that Ashlyn almost rolled her eyes. It had been so long since he’d been
doom-and-gloom man that she’d nearly forgotten about that side of his
personality. “I didn’t even know there was a second
resist.”

Drake nodded. “There are probably
more somewhere, but only two that we know of. The Spartans have always held the
second one, for safekeeping.” He walked around the table, unhurriedly, kneeling
beside Ashlyn as she turned in her chair to face him.

“Give me your hand,” he said
softly, and as she held out her fingers to him, he gently applied pressure,
sliding his thumb up from her wrist to the heel of her hand so that her palm
was turned up.

He laid a necklace against her
fingers. It was a black cord, similar to the one he wore, with a yellow stane
set in a gold backing. Ashlyn’s eyes flicked to the first
resist
stane, still on its cord around Drake’s neck, and realized
that the one in her hand must be the second stane, the one that the Spartans
usually kept for him.

As
resist
touched her skin, Ashlyn felt warmth spreading through her
hand, creeping up her arm and threading its way through her body.

She met Drake’s eyes, acutely
aware of the significance of this gift.

“It’s yours,” he said.

He stood and walked out, and a
few seconds later she heard the clomping of his boots on the steps leading up
to the cobblestone street.

Smiling, Ashlyn lifted the
necklace and tied the cord around her neck, trying to slow the frantic beating
of her hopelessly romantic heart.

She picked up the book, and
decided to go find Restlyn. Now was definitely an appropriate time for girl
talk.

The sun was bright when she
ascended the stairs, emerging from the small library located beneath the sacred
gong. She’d never had much reason to go into the library before, but then she’d
never been Lady of Toryn before, either, and now she was glad that the library
was of some use to her research.

As she headed towards her
father’s house, she saw Skye, deep in conversation with a group of Toryn
soldiers. She hadn’t really spoken to him since the day they’d attacked Kou’s
army and rescued her dad- there hadn’t been time. But she nodded to him now,
thinking that it might be smart to touch base with him over what their plans were.

Skye nodded back, and said a few
words to the soldiers, who nodded and began to talk amongst themselves.

“Where are you headed?” Skye
asked as he drew closer.

“My dad’s house, to see Restlyn.
Care to walk with me?”

He offered her his arm jokingly,
and she grinned and smacked him. “None of that, mister!”

He chuckled, falling into step
beside her. “Did you get any sleep last night?”

“Oh yeah.” She rubbed the sore
muscles in her neck. “One of these days I’m actually going to make it to a bed
instead of just conking out wherever I sit down.”

“I don’t think anybody’s been
getting regular sleep since this whole thing started,” Skye replied. “But it’s
almost over.”

“I guess.” Ashlyn grimaced and
scuffed the cobblestones with the toe of her sneaker. “I wish Tag and Kou
hadn’t escaped. With another one of my shuriken, no less. Jerks.”

“We’ll find them,” Skye said.
“And the rest of them, too. Only a handful of Kou’s ninjas got away. Far too
few to cause any real damage. And now that they don’t have your father to drain,
they won’t be able to use
shift
for
much longer.”

“Ugh. Don’t say ‘drain.’ Just the
thought of it makes me sick. I think I could happily murder Kou and not feel an
ounce of remorse,” she said grumpily. “That man is pure evil.”

“I’m not arguing.” Skye fell
silent for a moment before continuing, “How are you doing?”

“What do you mean? How am I
feeling? How am I holding up? I’m a little sore, to tell you the truth. I
haven’t done this much ass-kicking since the last time I took up with FLD.
Gods, there were a lot fewer aches and pains back then. I feel so old.”

“Oh, shut up.”

Ashlyn giggled.

“I actually meant- how are you
feeling about being Lady of Toryn?” Skye said, glancing over at her. His tone
was quizzical. “I know you weren’t real keen on it before.”

“Mmm.” She wasn’t real keen on it
now either, but at least she wasn’t terrified at the thought of taking on a
leadership role anymore. “Well, I’m not Lady of Toryn yet. There’s still that
whole coronation ceremony, and all. But I know what you meant, and yeah, I
guess I’m doing okay. Having you around makes it a lot easier.” She glanced up
at him, feeling a rush of gratitude towards the swordsman. It wasn’t often that
you found friends like Skye.

He hooked one arm around her neck
and ruffled her hair. “Anytime, kid. Oh- and I’m sorry about your haircut.”

“I almost forgot!” she shrieked,
shoving him away. “You jerk! What the heck was that about? Cutting my
hair?
You didn’t even get it straight!”

“Forgive me for saving your
skinny butt from a vampire! Next time I’ll call the barber first.”

“You better!” They were in front
of her dad’s house now, and Ashlyn turned to Skye, trying not to smile but of
course failing hopelessly. “I’ll see you around, Damien,” she said, walking up
the front steps. “Thanks for the pep talk.”

“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.