Ashlyn

From the Text

“I know it is you.” She stared where he was standing in the shadows. “Come out to greet me on your own, for I tire of these childish games.”   Damien stepped out from the hedges of the labyrinth. Said nothing. He had a close view of her now; the long, poofy red skirt she wore, decorated with gold scales and thin, delicate chains. A lacy bodice that was cut to leave her waist and back open. He was struck by the regal sight of her. This woman...she was no longer the girl he’d known back in the woodlands. She was a goddess. No, a Sorceress. A flawless realization of whom he’d imagined she’d become. And yet, for all her perfect beauty, she gazed upon him as she always had. With gentle, rounded eyes that betrayed too much emotion.   “Say something,” she demanded, adding a sting of venom. “Why do you follow me?”   Fuck if he knew. But she awaited an answer, so he rallied his courage and said, “I wanted to make sure you weren’t just wandering off without an escort. Which, it seems is exactly what you’re doing.”   “I needed to walk,” she said, closing the gap between them. In the pocket where they both stood, there was a small, bubbling fountain. The statue within depicted an abstract male and female entwined in a pose that Damien could only describe as ecstatic romance. Their chiseled forms were made of each other. Two yet one. Burning yet silent. Water cascaded over them endlessly, yet they gazed only at each other and let the stream claim them.   “I am trying to understand.” Ashlyn spoke after a long silence. “You are the last person I expected to run into here in Akarlon. The odds were far more likely in Lorianthil.”   “I’m also a bit shocked to see you,” he admitted. “They told me you were here but...I wasn’t actually expecting you or your ‘betrothed’ to be in attendance tonight.”   “So you heard?”   “Of course I heard. It’s all I’ve been hearing of late.” He swallowed, then dropped his eyes in a sort of bow. “I should offer my congratulations. Princess.”   “Thank you. And I should personally wish you luck in the Contest.”   Damien watched as she paced over to the fountain and sat. Some of the droplets splayed on her clothes but she paid no mind. Her hands remained folded in a poised manner. On her wrist, Damien could see a gold bangle that appeared to be an heirloom. The design clashed with the textures of her outfit, yet she wore it proudly.   “How does a forgehand become a Champion in the Contest of Kings?” she wondered aloud.   “Uh... I have a lot to fill you in on. I left Gumber, headed north, got admitted into the Fighters Academy. I finished my last tier three months ago.”   “You just up and left?”   “Yes. Of course I did. I never wanted to live out my life there, that would have been miserable.”   She blinked in shock, as if wondering why he would leave to avoid misery but not come and find her. As it turned out, his suspicions were right on.   “You went north? And you just...ignored everything I offered you?”   “That’s right,” he nodded. “I have my own plans, Ash. Plans that don’t include me settling down.”   She looked away, biting her bottom lip. “It’s your life. Your choice, I suppose.”   “Damn right.” Then he moved closer to her, nearly matching her posture against the fountain. “And what about you? What have you been doing with yourself?”   “Exactly what you’d assume,” she shrugged. “I’ve been playing kingdom. Perfecting my curtsies and language studies, weaving my agendas in court.”   “Masking your lies?”   “I do not lie,” she said. “Not in public, at least.”   “That’s absurd,” he said. “Every courtier lies, even if it’s minimal.”   “I have little to hide.”   He leaned in a bit. “But you do have some things to hide?”   Ashlyn swallowed while glancing away. After a moment, Damien changed the topic. “Do you still like to read?” he asked.   “When I find time.”   “Time...” he nodded. “It does grow ever scarce.” Then he chuckled upon re-membering something. “You know what gave me the idea to pursue my own plans? Reading a fucking adventure book.”   She laughed, unexpected and unhindered. A moment later she reined herself in. A small part of him was gutted to see it, how much she had waned away for the sake of ‘playing kingdom’ in front of onlookers. He much preferred the old version of her. Playful. Charming. Unabashedly curious.   “It checks out,” she said. “The power of Story is one of the strongest I’ve come to know. Perhaps that’s why I’m always living in them.”   “Yeah.” He folded his arms. “But no matter how we might wish to live our own stories...reality has a way of shitting on them.”   “Yes,” she agreed. “As it does.”   “So, why this suitor?” he asked after a few beats. “Of all the decorated nobles within the continent, why this one?”   “He possesses everything I’m looking for,” she said plainly. “Not only is he a long-established ally, but he promises to care for me and love me as his mate.”   “Love?”   “Yes. Are you familiar with this concept?”   “You don’t need to mock me, Ash. It’s all well and good to be loved, but this whole equation just seems...odd.”   “Odd?”   “The emperors of the Desert come from a line of legendary conquerors. None of them have taken a wife before. Sure, they have their consorts and concubines like any ruler but wife? Does it not seem odd to you that he’s willing to share an empire of this size?”   “Are you suggesting that I’m not worthy of it?”   “No, I’m merely questioning why an emperor would go against established tradition and surrender half of his lands merely for the sake of ‘love’. ”   “It is not just love,” she argued. “Of course it’s rooted in politics, Damien, I could never hope to escape that.”   “Then what are the politics at play here?” he asked. “Expansion? Fortification?”   “Izzak has no need to expand nor fortify.”   “Then what? What the hell does he need you for?”   “I don’t have to explain that to you,” she said, crossing her arms. “Not if you’re just going to judge me for it.”   “I’m asking because I care.”   “You do not care! You made that clear many moons ago.”   He sighed while deepening his sit. “I do care, Ash, I’ve been meaning to check in with you.” “Some timing you have. Was it simply too inconvenient to come and visit me at the palace?”   “You have every right to be bitter toward me, I just... I strive to do what I think is best.”   “And now you think it’s best to stalk me through my garden? Corner me and pose questions about my own choices of late?”   “Yes.”   “What about your choices?” she challenged. “For all your luck and success, I doubt you can say you’ve done better than I.”   “Since when was it a competition between us?” he countered. “No, I’m not an emperor, but I wouldn’t take back these last several years. I'm happy with my rank.”   “Ashlyn?” They both stiffened at the sound of another male voice echoing through the labyrinth. “Why did you go off so far?”   Ashlyn hopped to her feet and followed the voice. “I’m all right,” she said. “I was just getting some air.”   In moments, her betrothed came around from the other side of the hedge and clasped hands with her. They shared a kiss before Izzak even noticed Damien standing still by the fountain.   “Why are you with one of the Champions?” he asked, eyeing Damien skeptically.   “He’s just an old friend,” Ashlyn explained. “From Lorianthil. We were exchanging stories.”   “And how much longer will you be? I am ready to retire.”   “Not long,” she promised, pecking his shimmery cheekbone. “Could I finish my conversation with him? It’s...not for outside ears.”   “Very well but do not linger.”   “I won’t. We’ll practically be right behind you.”   “We?” Izzak raised a well-groomed brow.   “I fear my friend will get lost in the labyrinth if I do not guide him,” she said.   “Take care not to become lost yourself.” Izzak lifted her right hand and pressed his lips to her wrist.   The sight struck Damien. Not because of the affection within the gesture but because of the bracelet on the male’s own wrist. A bracelet Damien had crafted and offered as a gift long ago.   Dried petals and twigs crunched under Izzak’s steps as he took his leave, and when he was beyond ear shot, Damien clenched his jaw.   “What the fuck?” He cornered Ashlyn against the hedge. “You gave him my bracelet?”   She sank under his stare. “Technically, it was my bracelet. Mine to give freely.”   “You know what that was meant for! I told you to hold onto it.”   Of course, Ashlyn was already making her way out of the labyrinth, so Damien caught up to her and grabbed her by the arm. “Why, Ash? Why would you add insult to injury like that?”   “Let go of me before I have to call him back,” she warned.   “Answer the question.”   The bones in her neck and collar tightened. “I cannot be here,” she whispered as though it had hit her for the first time that evening. She tugged to get free, but Damien couldn’t allow that so easily. Ashlyn whimpered when he yanked her toward him and pinned her against the fountain. “Answer the question,” he said more calmly, picking up on her thrumming heartbeat, her dilating pupils.   “I did not mean to insult you by it. I just...wanted to forget.”   “Forget?” He released her, and she pulled her arm into herself, holding her aching wrist. This time as she began to leave, he didn’t stop her. Just sank down and leaned against the stone. He struggled to hold himself up as his chest throbbed and sweat broke out. Yet gravity kept pulling.   Cocking his head, he saw the girl standing a distance away, her eyes softened toward him like always. Then she turned and jogged out of the labyrinth.