She flushed.
"You seemed to be having a good night," he said, "and I was very glad to see it. You deserved that after everything you've been through." He glanced down at his hand and Ashyn saw a scroll in it. "I . . . I have news that will make your day less pleasant, I fear."
She rose. "What is it?"
"Ronan has left, child. He placed this scroll outside, and I will admit that I read it before I realized it was for you."
"No, that's not--there's a mistake. He wouldn't . . ."
Wouldn't leave because he'd promised not to. Last night. When he'd been drunk. Then morning came and . . .
No, he still wouldn't sneak off.
Wouldn't he? She remembered when he'd left her behind in Edgewood. She'd found a small group of survivors, and he'd said he'd wait outside. When she'd come out, there'd been a note--and he'd been gone.
She unfastened the scroll. Inside was writing in a familiar hand. Ronan's.
I couldn't stay, Ashyn. I know I said I would, but I must get home to Aidra and Jorn. You know why. I explained it last night. I tried to justify . . . but in the end, I couldn't. Your grandfather will take care of you, and you'll awaken dragons, Ashyn. I wish I could be there to see it. But my brother and sister need me. You do not. I will see you in the city.
She reread the note, looking for some sign that it was a trick, that someone had taken Ronan in the night and left this note. But it was his hand, and it said things no one else could know.
Ronan had said he'd stay, and he'd changed his mind. Was she truly surprised?
Ashyn rolled the scroll and tucked it into her pocket.
"I know I was not always kind to him," Edwyn said. "And I hope that played no role in his departure. If it did, then I sincerely apologize, child. I was harsh toward him yesterday, because I knew he was no warrior, and I feared you did not realize it, and he was misleading you."
"He was not."
"Either way, I feared he was using you for his own purposes. That he was feigning devotion to you. That is, I admit, why I showed him the treasure in the dragon's den. I almost hoped he would fill his pockets in the night and leave. He did leave, but my guard has told me no one went in there since the two of you during the festival."
"We were just--"
"--taking a closer look. Marveling at it all. And, perhaps, finding a private spot."
Ashyn shook her head. "It wasn't like that. We are only friends."
"You are still friends," he said gently. "That letter was not a good-bye, Ashyn. It was a temporary leave-taking for the sake of his family. One cannot argue with that."
"Family above all," she said.
"Yes." He reached out to squeeze her shoulder. "Which is why I apologize if I hurt you by being unkind to him. I truly was only trying to protect you."
"He didn't steal anything last night. He just . . ." She looked down to see the bracelet. "I'll put this back, of course. He was playing around and found it for me. As a joke."
"No, child. As a gift." His lips twitched. "Even if it was not his to give. Keep it, as a reminder that he is waiting for you in the city, once this is done. Now, while you probably do not feel much like eating, I'll have the cook make something bland. We have a full day of preparations ahead of us. Because tonight . . ." He looked at her, his eyes sparkling.
She managed a smile for him. "Tonight I wake dragons."
TWENTY-SIX
Moria lay in the long grass, watching two men at a night's campfire. They were dressed in drab clothing, blending with the endless brown of the steppes, but her eye caught almost-hidden ornamentation. Shimmering, jeweled rings. A bright-colored tunic under a cloak. Tasseled boots. Braids woven with golden thread. Not merchants themselves--their clothing was of inferior fabric and construction. These were the kind of men merchants loved, because they had money and no taste.
Both men bore swords, though--the dual swords of warriors.
"Mercenaries?" she whispered to Gavril, who was stretched out beside her.
"Imperial bounty hunters."