In Which Asalaye Scratches the Surface

May 2, 1176

From what Asalaye could gather, most girls her age preferred to avoid haunts they'd once shared with former sweethearts, but the call of the shepherd's field was as alluring as ever even if Cord was no longer hers. Maybe she just wasn't the sort of person who attached sentiment to places. Maybe she didn't care.

It was surprisingly easy, not caring.

"Laya?"

Out of the corner of her eye, a tall, dark figure launched himself over the fence and started toward her. More out of habit than true annoyance, Asalaye sighed. "Lonriad. Let me guess: the chausser's wife had another--?"

"Nah. Word on the street says she's had enough of chausses and is temporarily getting her fill of skirts." He smirked. It probably wasn't a fair comparison with him being a lord's son and all, but his teeth were a lot whiter than Cord's. "Figures that I always miss these things."

"Pervert."

He only laughed. God, did nothing faze him? But on the other hand, it was nice to have someone who just kept bouncing back. "Says the girl who's always throwing underwear parties in her father's hayloft. When's the next one, by the way?"

He just had to keep bringing that up, didn't he? Asalaye rolled her eyes. "Never."

"Next Tuesday it is, then." She stuck out her tongue at him; he replied by crossing his eyes, then pulled them back to their usual focus and frowned. "How have you been holding up?"

Asalaye stared at him. She'd been hearing that from every which way for the past couple weeks, but she'd never expected to hear it from him. Lonriad didn't care, it had been so easy to herself. Lonriad had just been sitting up in his castle, nearly dying from his own laughter after the news had reached him. It had been the most imaginable thing.

And yet, there was no mistaking the concern in those eyes. Maybe there was more to Lonriad, some depth she'd never had any reason to suspect. After all these years of knowing him, maybe she'd never even scratched the surface.

Well, she supposed this was the test. "Honestly? I don't even care."

His brows arched, an unusual, subdued action for him. The Lonriad she'd thought she knew would have been snickering. "What do you mean?"

"Exactly what I said, stupid." She clasped her hands around his shoulders and propelled herself upwards for a second, if only to better meet his eye. He caught her around the waist just as her toes brushed the grass. "Rather anticlimactic way to realize you don't love a man, but it beats being angry."

"I won't argue." His fingers tiptoed up her back and brushed against a lock of her hair. A few years earlier and he might have yanked it. "What about your sister?"

Asalaye shrugged. "I think she's more relieved than anything else. Turns out she only agreed in the first place because she thought Father wanted her to."

"She could do better anyway."

"That's what I told her." Not that Nanalie had believed it. Asalaye did, though--even in spite of the obvious. "Besides, Cord needed someone with smaller nose anyway; let's face it, no one in their right mind wants to see a trunk like this on all their children."

"Eh. I wouldn't mind."

...huh? "Who are you and what have you done with Lonriad?"

"What? I like your nose." Of all the words she'd never expected to spill out of those mouth. It might have been funny had it not just thrown the order of the universe out of whack. "Do you think I'd be so obsessed with it if I didn't?"

Maybe this was why she'd never bothered scratching the surface. Beneath that varnish of silliness was sheer insanity. "I'm not sure I want to delve too much into your logic."

"If you say so--but my logic says your nose could do a hell of a lot better than Cord's nose." He kissed her on the brow, then smiled. Her skin was light and tingly where his lips had touched. "You and that beautiful beak deserve a handsome man with a nose worth nuzzling."

Oh dear God. In spite of her attempt to stifle it, Asalaye snorted. Her nose must have finally developed into a separate consciousness. "Like who? You?"

"...maybe?"

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