Dryads and Nymphs

Chapter 33-Like Love

Ariana was still thinking about the mystery so she took no notice of the way Aron was looking at her. They decided to continue the horse-riding lessons on Ariana’s insisting, and the rest of the night passed with him teaching her how to control the horse. She had plenty of time to think about the confusing mystery in between his orders but nothing came to her mind that would satisfy her. She kept feeling as if she was missing something; a vital piece of information that would help her understand.

Aron, noticing how quiet she, was finally asked her if something was troubling her. She looked into his honest eyes, which were filled concern for her and thought whether she should tell him, but then she remembered that she couldn’t—he still thought she was the dryad of the tree. The realization that he still believed a lie saddened her and she shook her head.

“Something is wrong. I can see it in your eyes, yet you refuse to tell me,” Aron coaxed.

She took his hand. “It’s not important—,” she began to say.

“It clearly is, but you are not telling,” he insisted. She thought this might be how she sounded when she was prying and suddenly smiled at the thought. Her smile seemed to extinguish Aron’s worry a little. “I’ll tell you soon, but not today. Today I need to think. I have a new story to tell you but you have to promise you will not hate it, or me,” she said, sternly.

Confusing furrowed his eyebrows together, and he asked, “How could I ever hate you or anything you say?”

She tilted her head to a side, “Will you still promise anyway?”

He nodded, “I will because I do not believe that I can ever break it.”

She squeezed his hand, “Thank you. You must go now. I have to think about it.”

He grinned at her as he got on his horse, saying, “I’ll be back tomorrow, my dryad!”

And she smiled, “I know you will.”

And he was gone, leaving her thinking about the story she had promised him and the mystery.

* * *

Salem was standing outside Maryse’s window, leaning against a tree. He had been trying to call her out but either she did not hear him, or she was angry and ignoring him. He wanted to think it was the first but the later made much more sense, as much as he hated to admit it.

He had tried everything: calling her from down here, climbing on the tree and calling her name, throwing pebbles at her window, but nothing had worked. He knew she was not asleep since there was a shadow moving inside in the flickering light of the candle. She was angry, that much was clear.

“You know sending flowers always works,” a voice said from behind him and he startled.

“Dylan, are you trying to kill me?” Salem asked, rubbing at his chest.

“Nonsense, you’d already be dead if I was,” the other boy replied. “Love issues are we dealing with, here?”

“Somewhat,” Salem grunted.

“Care to explain?” Dylan asked sitting down next to Salem. Salem told him everything, about Maryse’s father coming back, and the lunch and dinner with them, how Maryse wanted him to ask sooner, and he thought the time wasn’t right and he should approach the subject carefully.

He finished and Dylan stayed quiet for a moment before saying, “I forgot why you didn’t ask me to accompany you. Now why was that?”

Salem sighed, “Ariana told me that it wouldn’t be uh, convenient.”