Page 16 of Legacy of Thorns (Kingdoms of Legacy #3)

Finley

I nside the cabin, Nisha had laid out their remaining supplies, and Archer was regarding the meager spread gloomily.

“The bread last night was bad enough,” he grumbled as Finley stepped through the door behind Daphne.

He instantly brightened at sight of Daphne, though, smiling in a boyish way. Daphne didn’t smile back, looking at the supplies instead, although Finley caught the sides of her mouth twitching. It was hard not to respond to Archer’s open face.

“Looks like we need to restock sooner rather than later,” she said, and Finley couldn’t dispute the words.

Morrow offered to go hunting, but that alone wouldn’t be enough. Someone would need to visit the local village.

“I should leave now,” Daphne said. “It’s a long walk.”

Finley’s eyes snapped to her. “You don’t have to be the one to go.”

She gave him a look that spoke volumes. He might not like it, but it was obvious that she was the best one to show her face in town. One or more of their pursuers might still be lingering around, and her face had to be the least familiar to them.

“You’re not going alone, at least,” he said implacably. He wouldn’t budge on that point. “None of us should be alone out there—it’s too dangerous. I’ll go with you.”

“If you like,” Daphne said with only the briefest hesitation. Her tone said she didn’t care what he did, but her eyes said otherwise.

He wished she had unburdened herself and yelled at him out in the forest as he had thought for a moment she would. Maybe if she let out her resentment, she might move past it and learn to trust him.

“I’ll go hunting with Morrow.” Nisha stood, taking inventory of her weapons.

“That just leaves me.” Archie grinned at Finley. “I’ll come with you, since none of us should be alone.”

“Archie,” Finley said warningly. He knew exactly why Archie wanted to come to the market, and it had nothing to do with shopping.

“He has to go with you,” Nisha said firmly. “He’s not coming with us.”

Finley glanced at Morrow, who was grinning. “You do want us to have some game to eat, don’t you?”

Finley ran a hand down his face. “Fine. Archie comes with us.” He gave his brother a stern look. “But don’t forget we’re trying to be discreet!”

“I’m good at lots of things,” Archie told Daphne, ignoring Fin. “But not hunting. Morrow says it’s because you need to be both silent and patient for hunting.” He grinned. “Apparently I’m neither.”

Daphne tried to look serious and unresponsive, but the sides of her lips twitched again.

Finley tore his eyes away from their curve with considerable effort.

If they were going to go, better to do it quickly.

With any luck, any of their pursuers remaining in the area had spent most of the night searching and were still asleep.

They weren’t the only sleepy ones, though. When he looked back at Daphne, she had put her head down on the table and fallen asleep. Finley exchanged a dismayed look with Archie, but by the time he had gathered together a few items to take with them, she was stirring again.

“Ready to go?” she asked coolly, standing as if nothing had happened. But he thought he caught a note of worry in her eyes, and the feeling reverberated back into him. They couldn’t afford any napping incidents in the village given they needed to avoid notice.

The three of them followed the faintest signs of an old path that wound through the trees in the direction of the village. Finley threw subtle glances at Daphne as they walked. What was lurking inside those tightly controlled emotions?

He wanted to ask, but Archie kept up a constant stream of chatter. When he wasn’t talking about his and Finley’s childhood in coastal Mirandar, he asked Daphne about hers in Ethelson. And when that topic faltered, he flowed smoothly into questions about how Glandore and Sovar differed from Oakden.

“I’ve seen the giant pumpkins that the children hollow out and use as boats on the river,” he said, “but surely not every pumpkin in Sovar is that size? It is? And the mice? Are they really the size of cats? A horse! Your cousin has a mouse the size of a horse! Does she ride it?”

The flow of words didn’t stop. Forty-eight hours ago, all Finley had wanted from life was for his brother to wake up. Now he would have happily put him back to sleep—for five or six hours, at least.

But, loath as he was to admit it, Daphne didn’t clam up for Archie as she had done with Finley.

Few were immune to his unaffected friendliness, and the further they walked, the lighter her face became.

Eventually she was laughing along with Archie as she told him about Glandore and the allure of picking an enchanted rose, assuring him that she had really, truly seen a man turn into a Beast.

Jealousy stirred inside Finley. Not toward his brother, exactly—he knew Daphne saw Archie as barely more than a child.

But he wished he possessed his younger brother’s easy charm.

He had never felt that way before—Finley had taught Archie his charm, for goodness’ sake!

But Archie’s charm was working on Daphne, while she remained immune to Finley’s supposed appeal.

Was it the openness and goodness she could see in Archie—that part of him that was all his own? Or was it Finley’s lies that had turned her against him? She had been suspicious of him from the start.

What would have happened if he’d told her the truth in that old man’s study? Would she have come with him voluntarily to save his brother?

Finley shook away the impossible thought. He couldn’t change the past. And even if she’d come willingly, she still would have been justifiably angry to find herself thrust into their endless troubles as reward.

Such circular thoughts would get him nowhere.

At the fringe of the village, he spotted a line of cloaks drying on a row of bushes behind one of the houses.

“Perfect,” he muttered. “Wait here.”

Checking for watchers, he had the cloaks in hand and was back at their side within seconds. But when he tried to hand the smallest cloak to Daphne, she refused to take it.

“I’m no thief,” she said coldly.

“We’re not stealing them.” Archie gave her a coaxing smile. “We’ll return them on the way out of the village. No harm done.”

Daphne crossed her arms over her chest. “If we need cloaks, we should have brought our own.”

“We need to be inconspicuous,” Finley said in a level voice. “Archie and I have cloaks in the southern style and yours is obviously from Sovar. These cloaks, on the other hand, are in the local style and will blend in.”

Daphne’s lips tightened, but after a reluctant moment, she took the cloak and pulled it on.

“The least we can do is take care not to get them dirty.” She gave them both a warning look.

“Yes, my lady.” Archie gave her a cheeky grin, managing to wrest a laugh out of her.

“Don’t start that again,” she said, but she was smiling as she said it.

Finley smiled as well, but his heart wasn’t in it. Now that they had reached the village, responsibility for Daphne and Archer’s safety had settled on his shoulders much more heavily than the cloak.

“Hoods up,” he said gruffly, and they both complied, although Archie did it with a teasing look that made Finley groan internally. He would need to keep a close eye on his brother.

But he needn’t have worried. Once they stepped into the village streets, Archie’s manner changed.

He lingered protectively by Daphne, keeping his head down even as his eyes darted in all directions.

Perhaps it was typical for his brother’s age, but Finley was always taken by surprise when Archie switched so easily between boy and man.

They followed the trickle of people moving toward the single village square.

“We’re lucky it’s market day,” Daphne murmured. “Stallholders will assume we’ve come in from one of the outlying areas. Just make sure you both hang back. You insisted on accompanying me, so don’t cause trouble!”

“Yes, my lady,” Archie said with a wicked twinkle that turned his face boyish again for a moment.

Daphne gave him an exasperated look, but Finley handed her a leather purse before she could retort. Her fingers closed over it instinctively, but her expression turned dubious.

“For the purchases,” he explained. Her brows didn’t soften, so he added, “It’s not stolen.”

She raised an eyebrow, but Archie backed him up.

“We earned it honestly, I swear. We do get honest work from time to time.” He grinned again, and Daphne narrowed her eyes.

“I find it hard to believe you’ve ever done an honest day’s work in your life,” she said sternly, but her face and posture gave her away. Her shoulders had relaxed, and her hands were slipping the purse out of sight in one of her pockets.

“It’s a surprise, isn’t it?” Archie’s good humor was unabated.

“But plenty of people have jobs that need Morrow’s strength, and the rest of us tag along.

Most recently we spent three whole months hired as guards for a merchant caravan that made the trip back and forth between the capital and the Marleston crossing.

They even hired me when they saw I could use a sword.

” Archie’s tone was proud, and Daphne turned her head away to hide a smile.

“Very well, then.” She led the way toward the baker’s stall. “Just remember—no causing trouble!”

Finley obediently stepped back, he and Archie forming a guard behind her as she greeted the baker’s assistant.

The lad busied himself collecting her order, giving no indication of surprise at encountering an unfamiliar face.

The same thing happened at the next stall and the next.

Daphne did all the talking, while the two men hung back and kept their faces shadowed by their hoods.

Finley barely registered Daphne’s bargaining, his focus devoted to the market crowd. He caught no sign of anyone he recognized, and no one was paying undue attention to the small group of three, two of whom were growing more and more laden down with packages.