Wyvern’s Gold (The Ruins Of Men Book 1)

Chapter 37

Thirty-Seven

Ayla

T he day after I was attacked in the street, Rymar came home with a smile on his face and flowers in his hand. I was sitting sideways on the couch, doing my best to finish the book about Peter, and looked up in confusion. Rymar simply smiled, held them out, and bowed over them.

"Fa yu," he tried in English. "For you," he then said in Vestrian.

"I understood you," I admitted, replying in Vestrian, but I didn't reach for the flowers.

He pushed them at me a little more, the gesture making it clear I should take them. "Purple cone flowers."

"Why?" I asked, pulling my legs closer.

"Because I thought you liked flowers," he said, letting his arm finally drop.

"I don't want to marry you," I explained, looking at the few pages of my book I had left. "I will tell Zasen everything I know, but please don't make me marry you?"

"What?" he asked. "Ayla, are you sure you translated that to Vestrian right?"

"Huh?" The words were the same. That was why I'd been doing so well. It was just the way they were pronounced that was different.

"They're flowers," he explained slowly, enunciating his Vestrian too much. "I don't want to get married. I just saw flowers and I thought you would like them, so I bought them."

"Why?" I asked again right as Zasen came into the room.

"Ayla, take the flowers," he told me. "Rymar, find a vase. We can put them on the coffee table." Then he tossed himself down into his favorite chair. "And I'm curious to hear why flowers make you think marriage."

"The hunters would often bring them to girls," I explained as I accepted the massive bouquet. "Not as many as this. Just one or two. Something colorful, and girls would be excited. Gideon did that once for Meri. A white one. And she thought it was so sweet, but he only did it to get her to marry him, so I thought..."

"No marrying!" Rymar assured me. "None." He waved his hands in an X across his body. "Just flowers because my friend likes them." Pointing at me to make it clear who he meant, the brightly-colored man smiled and headed for the kitchen.

And now I looked at the flowers in a whole new way. Rymar had gotten these for me because we were friends? But I'd barely even talked to him since he'd started spending his days at his work. Or at his job? I wasn't sure which phrase was correct.

Plus, they really were pretty. The colors of the petals reminded me of the darker shade on Kanik's chest. It was much lighter than his neck, though. The centers were dark, similar to Zasen, and the petals folded backwards, reminding me of a picture I'd once seen of a ballerina.

"They're pretty," I said softly, smiling down at the bouquet.

"Mhm," Zasen agreed. "That's the point of flowers. So are you willing to tell me why you're smiling now when you refused them before?"

"He said we were friends," I admitted shyly.

A smile cracked Zasen's face just as Rymar returned with a large clear container filled halfway with water. "You can put them in here to make them live longer," Rymar explained. "They'll still die in a few days, but I walk past a woman who sells them on my way home."

"You walk past the entire market," Zasen pointed out.

Rymar murmured at that, clearly not concerned about the details of his explanation. Then he claimed the other chair in the room. Leaning back, he kicked his feet up on the coffee table between him and Zasen.

"So..." Rymar smiled slyly. "Guess who came to the cafe today?"

"Who?" I asked.

Not that it would matter because I didn't know anyone but the three of them. It still seemed like it was what he wanted someone to ask. When he glanced over at me and grinned, I knew I was right.

"Zasen's little sister and her girlfriend," he explained. "The nurses who helped you with your feet when you got here. They asked how you were doing. I decided we should have a cookout tomorrow."

"A what?" I asked.

"No," Zasen said a second later.

"A cookout," Rymar went on, completely ignoring Zasen. "It's all arranged already. Jeera - she's Zasen's sister - is going to get some samples of meat so we can see what you like. Brielle thought she'd bring a selection of different fruits. I'm going to cook, because we have a firepit out back. Zasen is going to grump about it, but I think he should go invite Saveah and Tamin."

"They won't come," Zasen said.

"They will if Jeera and Brielle are here," Rymar countered.

But I had a question, and one they'd skipped right over. "What's a cookout?"

"A cookout?" Kanik asked as he trotted down the stairs, clearly catching the last part of that. "Who?"

"Us," Rymar said. "Tomorrow. Jeera and Brielle are coming for sure. Zasen's going to invite Saveah and Tamin. That means Taris will be there."

"Oh, she has to be getting so big," Kanik murmured.

Confused, I was looking between the three of them. I'd gotten really good at understanding Vestrian. If I stopped thinking so hard, it was like they talked with a heavy accent, and one I was getting used to. Considering their English was almost as accented, that actually made it even easier.

And yet none of this made sense. The nurses from the hospital were coming. Tamin's mom wouldn't. I'd heard what she said about me being a Mole. But why? What was the point? And who was Taris?

"I'm confused," I admitted sheepishly.

Kanik flopped onto the couch, then reached over to pull my ankles back onto the middle cushion between us. "A cookout is a social gathering," he explained. "We prepare a meal with friends and neighbors as an excuse to see each other and catch up on our lives. It's a thing friends do."

"Who's Taris?" I asked next.

That made Kanik smile. "Tamin's little sister. She's..." He glanced at Zasen. "Three months old now?"

"About that," Zasen agreed.

"Is she yours?" I asked him.

Zasen laughed at that. "No, Ayla. I don't have any children. Saveah is a friend, and her husband was one of our close friends. You see, the four of us grew up together. We actually bought this house because he and Saveah moved into theirs. Well, hers now."

"Oh." I nodded. "So she's a widow?"

"She is," he agreed.

"Lucky woman."

"Don't..." Kanik begged. "Please don't say that to her, Ayla? Her marriage was not like what you know. When he died - which was less than a month ago - she was devastated. If you try to congratulate her or say she's lucky, she would be offended."

I nodded, accepting that. "But she is no longer his, right? Will she have to marry again? Do Dragons get a year of mourning before that happens like we do? I mean, a woman being a widow is rare, but it's what we all hope for."

Rymar huffed - or choked. I couldn't quite be sure. Then he leaned over his knees. "Ayla, Dragon marriage is nothing like Moles. Here, women don't have to. They do it because they want to."

"Why?" I asked.

"You'd have to ask Saveah that," he told me. "I've never been married, or met anyone who made me want to propose."

"Well, Saveah wasn't exactly married," Zasen pointed out. "She chose to live with her man."

I nodded, confused but willing to accept that. "And Jeera? Brielle? Do they have husbands?"

All three men looked at each other, then Kanik and Rymar both turned to Zasen. And yet, Zasen was smiling at me. He didn't look amused so much as sly.

"They have a boyfriend," Zasen said. "They're also a couple."

"Two, yes," I agreed, proving I knew what that word meant.

"Romantic," he clarified. "They kiss each other."

I thought my eyes were about to jump out of my face. "Women?"

"Women," he agreed. "Jeera - my sister - dates both men and women. Brielle too. They share their boyfriend, but he's a Reaper. He comes here a few times a year."

Okay, I was pretty sure I heard all of those words, but none of it made sense. "I'm confused," I admitted. "Can you say that in English?"

So Zasen changed languages. "My sister has a lover who is a woman. That woman is Brielle. They kiss. They hold hands. They also care about a man, which makes them a trio instead of a couple."

"Like a husband and wife?" I asked.

Zasen murmured at that. "Not the sort of husband and wife you know," he finally said. "No, Ayla. I think this is something you should wait and ask my sister about. I promise she will not be offended."

"I even warned her you might not understand," Rymar offered, speaking Vestrian because that was all he really knew. "That means she'll expect you to ask."

"Okay," I agreed, feeling a bit better about it. "But can I help too? I know how to cook. I can clean, or set a table. We're taught all of that in our classes and I don't want to be a burden."

"You don't know how to cook," Zasen assured me. "We use spices."

"She can at least set the table," Kanik countered.

Rymar simply reached over to tap my arm. "I'll let you help me cook," he said.

Which made me sit up. "Yeah?"

"Mhm," he agreed. "But it's on a fire, like when we were walking back. That makes it very different from an oven."

"I'll learn," I promised. "And I take orders well. I just hate that you men are always caring for me and I don't do anything back. I want to show you I'm useful."

"I'll gladly let you do the dishes," Zasen joked.

But I nodded at him. "Okay! I know where glasses go, and I know how to turn the water on for the sink."

"She doesn't know how to light the water heater, though," Kanik pointed out before turning to me. "Ayla, in order to get warm water, you'll have to ask one of us."

"I can do it in cold," I assured him. "I don't want to be any more of a problem."

Zasen just narrowed his eyes. "A problem?"

Which was when I realized I'd said too much. "I've been trying to remember everything about the compound, sir," I mumbled.

"Ayla…" Zasen grumbled.

But I wanted to make sure I could prove myself to them. I had to if I wanted to stay here. "I've spent my whole life learning how to care for a home, and then none of you will have to do it, and if I can give you the information you need, then maybe you won't have to kill me?"

Zasen leaned forward and scrubbed at his face with both hands. "I'm not going to kill you, Ayla."

"If you have to, I understand," I told him, honestly meaning it. "This place is so wonderful, and I understand you can't allow anyone to mess it up. I was just hoping that if I'm good enough, then maybe I could live here too. I mean, it doesn't even have to be here."

Rymar simply tilted his head, his eyes still on Zasen. "Feel like an ass yet?"

"Yeah, pretty much," Zasen admitted.

But Kanik reached over to rub my legs. "We're not going to let anyone kill you, Ayla. Zasen had to say that because people look at you and think you're a Mole."

"She is a Mole," Zasen pointed out.

"No," Kanik insisted, "she's not. She used to be a Mole. Now she's a refugee."

"And I really want to become a Dragon," I told them. "I know it won't be easy, but I want to, because things are much better here. If not, I can just go grow plants out in the forest, though. I won't tell anyone anything. I just want to see what it's like to be old one day."

Zasen sighed. "It's not that great, Ayla."

I caressed the flowers I was still holding, then leaned to put them in the water. "That was my dream before I was thrown out of the compound. I wanted to run away and farm plants to eat. Callah and Meri would help me." I adjusted the flowers so they could spread out a little. "So to me, all of this is pretty great."