by D. E. Morris
Jaryn gave a dry, humorless chuckle. “Ah yes, Killian's injury.” He nodded in the direction of one of the chairs at the side of the room, where her riding jacket from the previous night was draped over the back. Somehow she'd missed it in her rushed anger. “One of the servants brought it back this morning and said the hem had to be completely redone because the tear was so far up. She wondered if you still wanted it at all and I said you might want it for one of your ladies. I didn't actually put two and two together until I heard more talk of the special treatment Killian had received for his injury and who might have been the one administering the care.”
“That was what I wanted to explain.” No wonder he was so upset. The rumors around court had been that Killian saved a lady's life and she repaid him with a bandage made from her own gown. This was as indicative as a favor given to a knight before a joust. It also made her realize why the group in the hallway was whispering at her back. The implications of it broke her heart. “Jaryn, I am so sorry.”
“I don't believe the gossip,” he assured quietly. “I know you are not having an affair with him, nor would you have an affair with anyone. I know you are true.” He sat up, swallowing hard. “But it pains me to have to defend against actions that make no sense to me, especially to our closest friends.”
Ashlynn hung her head. Neither Tasarin nor Luella had said anything about Killian when she'd returned and she had no idea they had questioned Jaryn on her connection to him. All she could say once more was, “I'm sorry.”
“I don't want apologies,” he protested. “I want an explanation.”
She nodded and took another breath, eyes on her fingers as she splayed them across her skirt. “And you deserve one.” Their morning should have begun in this manner. No, the story of what had happened in the woods with Killian should have been told last night. She told herself that she stayed silent because Jaryn had fallen asleep, but there had been many nights when she'd woken him for one reason or another. If the matter was urgent enough he could shake himself awake and be fully capable of listening to her and focusing on the need at hand. For some reason, however, last night when she answered his question as to whether she'd enjoyed her rebellious night out and all she could answer with was a single, “no” - it was all she was capable of at the time.
Now she explained her answer, starting from the moment they went to bed, continuing on through her sneaking out, finding Killian had followed her, and everything after. Jaryn never interrupted once, though when she came to her wrestling match with Killian, he stood and paced the length of the room to stare coldly out the window. His attention on her only returned when she told him about the monastery and the old man within. When she finally reached the part about being ambushed and ultimately helped by the Ibayish travelers, the veins in Jaryn's neck were popping under his skin and his fists were clenched tightly enough to turn his knuckles white. She paused to give him a chance to say something when her recount of the night was done, but when he remained silent she continued on with the events of the day.
“I did not set out to deceive you,” she finished softly, still seated on the bed and watching him like an expectant child. “The only reason I didn't tell you the truth this morning in the presence chamber was because there were so many ears listening. You and I both know how quickly a story can spread and grow. No matter what I chose to tell you, some courtier or another would have overheard and spread the story, and who knows how that would have turned out?”
“No one does.” Jaryn pinched the skin between his brows. “You didn't allow for any other option.”
“I didn't have a choice.”
“You always have a choice.” He rounded on her, head tilted and a wrinkle of confusion on his forehead. “Do you think nothing of me when you do things like this? Forget me; do you think nothing of yourself? Our son? The baby you carry?” His face was flushed and his eyes were wide. “Sometimes I wonder what's going on in that head of yours. Do you have any idea what those men could have done to you?” He opened his mouth to chastise her further, but nothing came out. He simply shook his head and looked up at the high ceiling for a moment.
When Ashlynn could take the silence no longer, she rose and went to him, resting her palms on his chest. “Please forgive me.”
“Eventually.” His chin jutted forward as he took a step back from her. “Eventually I will, and eventually I will be calm enough to talk to you without the overwhelming desire to shake some sense into you. Right now I am not, and that is why I am going to leave.”
Ashlynn's shoulders dropped, displeasure on her face. “What?”
“I need to be away from you right now or the things I say will be said in anger, and I know better than to give in to that.” He didn't give her a chance to respond, only threw her one last look of heated disappointment before he stalked past her and shut the door heavily behind himself.
For the rest of the afternoon, Ashlynn found herself either alone or in the company of her ladies, pretending all was well and that she was happy. Only Zarra knew something wasn't quite right, but there was no opportunity for her to press, something for which Ashlynn was grateful. Jaryn was absent from both the noon meal and supper, allowing her a little more time with Tasarin and Luella on her own so as to be able to explain the incident with Killian. It was late by the time she made it to her chambers, dread weighing heavily in the pit of her stomach. Jaryn would either still be gone, or he would be there, ready to give her a piece of his mind. Neither were favorable.
The hearth fire was well stoked and a comforting warmth greeted her when she opened the door. Jaryn was there, seated in one of the high back chairs with the flames reflecting gold and red across his face. His eyes were downcast, focusing on the book in his lap. When he heard the door open he looked up, the concentration in his expression softening. Ashlynn was slow in closing the door behind her, watching him as prey would watch the animal hunting it.
“Am I really that terrifying?” he asked, his voice quiet but his tone light.
“When you're upset with me, yes.” She linked her fingers together before her, careful. “You and I have disagreed before, we've argued...we've even yelled and cursed at one another. Well...I've cursed. You have never walked out on me before, though.”
“Be glad I did.” He marked the page he was reading with a ribbon before closing the book and setting it on the table beside him. Then, with a tiny smile, he extended his hand to her. She hesitated a moment, but slowly moved forward to put her hand in his and let him pull her down onto his lap. There she snuggled down into the curve of his body, resting her head on his shoulder. Neither of them spoke for a time, but it was a comfortable silence between them once more. She could feel Jaryn's arms around her waist and the roughness of his thin beard every now and then against her temple. When the crown and the jewels in her hair sat awkwardly pressed against the back of the chair, she reached up to undo them, Jaryn silently helping. He ran his fingers through her golden hair, tugging out loops of braids with gentility, and she rested against him once more.
“Do you forgive me?” she asked at length, knowing the answer but still needing to hear it.
He pressed his lips to her forehead, keeping them there as he whispered, “I forgive you.”
“I truly am sorry.”
“I know you are.” He returned his attention to the fire and sighed heavily. “Do you understand why I was so angry, why part of me is angry still?”
“Because I was foolish, and reckless, and childish in sneaking out and keeping things from you.” She shifted against him, raising her head and touching his face. “I know you are only looking out for me. Since we met, that's all you've ever done. I took that for granted last night as well as today. I know that, too. I know you are a good husband and when you set...restrictions...it is for my own protection.” She grimaced, making Jaryn chuckle.
“I know how badly that word tastes in your mouth, love.”
“I don't know why I am this way, Jaryn. Sometimes I
wish I wasn't so stubborn and set on doing everything my way. I know – believe me, I know – a good deal of the discord between us is because I'm so willful.”
“I do not dislike that about you, Ashlynn. Not always, at any rate. You just drive me mad sometimes with the way you view things. If you were in my place you would see the dangers I am consistently looking out for and aware of. You would understand I say and do things, not to make you angry or to push you to go against me, I do it for the love of you.”
She smirked and ran her fingers through the hair at his temple. “This is beginning to feel like a conversation you orchestrated in such a way that I would have no other choice but to agree with you and tell you how right you are.”
Jaryn's brow wrinkled, though there was humor in his hazel eyes. “Is that such a bad thing?”
Grinning, Ashlynn kissed his cheek. “No. It's good for you to win one once in awhile.”
“How generous of you,” he chuckled. Though he seemed lighter than when she'd entered, the levity didn't hold for long. He held her gaze steadily, the corners of his lips twisting downward in a pensive grimace. “Is that it, then? Have you any more stories to tell me?”
“Nothing.” She was confident in her answer, forgetting for a moment that the very source of all her recent anxiety and anger was the fact that she no longer seemed to have access to her powers as an Elemental. She did not stay peaceful for long upon immediate reflection of the honesty of her reply. “I have been upset for months now and foolishly let it cloud my mind.”
“Tell me what has you so bothered.”
The tender request made Ashlynn take a deep breath in and turn her eyes to the snapping fire keeping them warm. “I'm still so...angry doesn't feel strong enough a word...” She shook her head, clenched fists shaking. “Were Jessiah still alive I would pray for the wrath of the Great Dragon to come down upon him tenfold. If it had been just me, fine, but because of him there is so much leftover turmoil to be dealt with. I lost Lilia, and while it was my own fault for using her to get closer to Jessiah as I did, I still blame him. More than that, I blame him for Mairead's disfiguration.”
Jaryn squeezed Ashlynn gently. “We don't know who led the attack on the caravan that day.”
“But we do know whoever it was had dark powers wicked enough to turn bones to ashes and that whoever did it was cruel and heartless when he left Mairead there alone, thinking she was going to die, but instead letting her live with such injuries that she refuses to ever leave her room.” Now that she'd started, it was impossible not to feel the acidic ball of outrage bubbling within her. “He had a hand in destroying my childhood home. He kidnapped Rowan and could have killed her. Now Killian is there simply because I cannot bear to see Rowan go, and every time I see his face I want nothing more than to grab a sword from one of the guards and smash the hilt of it into his teeth.” Calming slightly, she looked down at her lap. “At least, I did. I hate him a little less having spent some time with him, but he still makes me feel so unsettled. And now I can't even shift.”
The words left her mouth before she had time to think, so caught up was she in her anger. She froze and held her breath, moving only when she felt Jaryn's arms tighten around her. “I would say I'm sorry about that, but I'm not. I am overjoyed knowing we are having another child, even if it means you can't shift until after the birth.”
After confessing everything, Ashlynn still could not bring herself to let go of her last secret, her biggest secret. There was an irrational fear that if she said the words aloud and spoke them into existence, it would make it all too real and mean she would never be the same person again. As enraged as she had been just seconds earlier, letting it all out sent the anger from her in a rush of heat, leaving her feeling drained and somewhat lost. Her head rested once more on Jaryn's shoulder and she asked, “What do I do?”
He was quiet for a moment, taking a deep breath to give himself time to think. When he did speak, the shoulder she leaned on lifted in a lazy shrug. “You do what you have always done. You change it. If there is something you don't like or agree with, you have always gone after it with a ferocity I have both feared and admired. That shouldn't be any different now. You almost died, Ashlynn. Almost. Don't let Jessiah still have this victory over you by letting what he did change you and your relationships with others. When we go home, make Lilia talk to you. Make Mairead see you. Love Rowan as you always have...and if you must, in order to get over your mistrust of him, spend more time with Killian. Only please, for my sake, no more adventures in the woods or bandages from your jackets....and make sure other people are around”
Ashlynn nodded, an embarrassed half-smile on her face. He was right. Since she'd returned to health she had been different. All too easy to cry, to rage, to vex. If she asked what was being said at court she was sure the word would be that the High Queen was no longer herself but one whose rule would be of less compassion and more indifference and callousness. That was certainly not what she wanted. Though the time spent at Montania had been wonderful in its own way, she was now eager to get home and make things right again.
A knock on the door startled both of them, but when Ashlynn tried to stand Jaryn refused to let her go and nipped playfully at her ear. “Don't you dare move.” When her only reply was a giggle, he looked to the door and called, “Come!”
Zarra poked her head in, a tentative smile on her face. When she saw the couple and how they sat together, however, her eyes widened and she looked at the floor, standing as close to the door as possible. “Forgive me, Your Majesties!”
Jaryn laughed. “There is nothing to forgive, Zarra. What is it?”
“I have a letter. It was delivered only a few moments ago.”
Now Ashlynn did rise and hurried to take the folded parchment from Zarra's hand. She broke the red wax seal boasting an unfamiliar crest and scanned the contents quickly. When her brows rose and her eyes went wide, a grin splitting her lips, Jaryn rose as well. “It's Misuzu!” Ashlynn exclaimed before her husband could read the letter. “She's waiting for us at home!”
Jaryn took the letter to scan. “Is something the matter?”
“Not that is says here, only that she would be waiting for us. I can only assume if it were urgent she would meet us here.” Ashlynn turned to Zarra. “Have the servants pack our trunks tonight. Keep nothing out but your night clothes and what you will wear tomorrow for the journey home. I want everyone to be ready to go at first light. We will be taking the first ship out.” Zarra nodded in acquiesce before leaving to carry out her orders. “Part of me was sad to leave here,” Ashlynn admitted, “but now I am looking forward to going home.”
Jaryn folded up the message and set it on the mantle. “It's been two years since we've seen Misuzu. I wonder what it is that's brought her around.”
“All I know,” said Ashlynn at length, “is that I will be all too glad to see her. She'll finally be able to meet Lochlainn. I wonder if she knows about Cavalon and Nuala.”
“I suppose we will just have to wait and see.”
There was a new knock to the door, and Jaryn allowed the servants entrance to pack their things. As they got to work, he extended a hand to his wife with an entreating smile. “Come take a walk with me before we rest. Once we are back at Altaine, these permissive moments will not be so frequent.” Happily, Ashlynn slid her hand into Jaryn's and kissed his cheek. He was all too right in his thinking and she knew as much. It was good for them to take advantage of their last night of partial freedom and wander as anyone at court should.
In the morning as the sun was fighting to break through thick, white clouds, they said their goodbyes to Luella and Tasarin. Thankfully the seas were calmer and the wind a little less biting than it had been when they'd arrived two weeks earlier. As cargo was loaded and the ship was made ready to sail, Ashlynn and Lochlainn watched the nobles hand their horses off to be led below deck. He stared at them intently, his little brows furrowed together as though trying to understand the process. Ashlyn
n kept pulling the hood of his cloak up over his head, but he would push it down with frustration, the hood blocking his view. A rider bearing the Montania crest approached the dock and spoke to one of the deckhands below. In turn, he signaled to the captain and made a peculiar gesture the older man seemed to understand. He hollered down to Jaryn who was watching the preparations, and pointed him in the direction of the messenger.
Curious, Ashlynn walked along the deck to be closer to the gangplank to see if she could hear anything being said. As it turned out, the messenger only gave a scroll to Jaryn before returning to his mount and leaving. Jaryn unrolled the scroll and read as he ascended. “What is it?” Ashlynn asked when he reached her.
“Apparently Killian is staying a few more days.”
She frowned in confusion. “Why?”
“Doesn't say.”
Glancing down at Lochlainn, she shifted him on her hip. “That is rather presumptuous of him to assume we would continue to take charge of Rowan.”
Jaryn lifted a brow. “Is it really? You already care for her as if she were your own whether he is at court or not.”
“That is not the point.” She was irritated and didn't really understand why; looking after Rowan was certainly no chore. Ashlynn loved spending time with her, both of them learning so much from one another; yet it annoyed her that Killian had made this sudden and last minute declaration and not even in person.
The gangplank was being lifted and Jaryn slid his arm around her. “Come. Let's go get settled and have breakfast together. Then, perhaps, we can all settle in for a nice long nap.”
As nettled as she was, Ashlynn couldn't ignore the appeal of her husband's suggestion. “That sounds wonderful,” she admitted, leaning into him. “And hopefully when we wake up, we will be back home again to see our family.” She jostled Lochlainn, her voice raising in pitch. “You will finally be able to meet your aunt Misuzu. Who knows? Perhaps we can send an invitation to Cavalon and Nuala for a feast and you will be able to see Lucien again. Would you like that?”