Page 31 of Legacy of Thorns (Kingdoms of Legacy #3)

Daphne

D aphne flew through the air, tucking her elbows as the night sky flashed across her vision, replacing the lamplit warmth of the manor house. She landed in a clump of bushes, the foliage breaking her fall, even as it scratched her arms and tore off her mask.

Above her, Finley grabbed the windowsill and vaulted after her, his leap taking him clear of the bushes that held her. Daphne struggled free of the clinging branches as Finley landed in a crouch, his whole body jarring from the impact.

He spun, looking for her, but she was already running toward him, stuffing the mask into a concealed pocket.

When she reached him, she seized his hand and kept running, tugging him along behind her.

Glancing back, she saw a smile spreading over his face, but beyond him, Barlowe stood in the open window, watching them flee.

His back was to the light, making his face impossible to read.

Finley’s longer legs overtook Daphne, and he shifted the grip of their hands so that he was the one pulling her along. Together they raced past the abandoned barn and into the trees beyond.

“Fin!” Archer’s familiar voice made her falter, pulling back on Finley’s grip.

Finley stopped and spun, scanning the trees around them. Archer stepped from between two of the trunks, his face lined with worry.

“What is it?” He stared behind them. “What are you running from?”

“Barlowe,” Daphne panted, struggling to catch her breath after the unexpected flight.

“Who?”

“It’s a long story.” Fin frowned at his brother. “But what are you doing here? You shouldn’t be here!”

“I couldn’t just sit back at the cabin and wait.” Archer’s expression was defiant. “I wasn’t going to burst into the ballroom or anything. I just thought I’d wait out here and…and provide backup if you needed it.”

Fin drew a deep breath, but whatever he wanted to say to his brother, he suppressed it. “Morrow and Nisha?”

“I went to bed early and snuck out the window,” Archer confessed. “I knew you’d be furious, but?—”

“Actually, this is a good thing.” Finley’s words caught both Archer and Daphne by surprise.

She frowned at him. A good thing? She clutched his hand tighter, foreboding filling her to the fingertips.

“If you’re here, it changes everything.” Finley turned from Archer to Daphne, taking both her hands in his. “There was no way I was walking off with Barlowe and leaving you alone back there. But with Archie here…”

“No, Fin.” Daphne shook her head stubbornly. “Don’t do it. Don’t even think about it.”

“But if I don’t, this will never end.”

Daphne’s lips pressed together. “We’ll report him. We know who he is now. We’ll go to the guards and?—”

“And what? Tell them we’ve been chased for years by a lord ? He’ll say the whole thing is nonsense, and they’ll believe him, not us. Given Archie was robbing Lord Castlerey only weeks ago, we’re not exactly going to be considered reliable witnesses. If we had proof, it might be different, but…”

“We might not have proof,” Daphne said, “but neither does he have proof of being a lord. We can challenge him, demand he produces proof of who he claims to be.”

“And when he laughs in our faces and walks away, do you think they’ll force him to respond?” Fin sighed. “He’s been keeping up this ruse for ten years, and he said he pays attention to details. Who knows what false proof he might have accumulated in all that time?”

“What in the kingdoms are you two talking about?” Archer broke in. “Who’s a fake lord?”

Fin looked at him, a shadow in his eyes that made Daphne’s heart contract. Archer still didn’t know the truth about their father or why they’d been pursued for so long.

Would Finley tell him immediately? Archer needed to know, but he deserved to be told with more sensitivity than Barlowe had shown Fin.

“There’s no time.” Finley sounded anguished. “Barlowe isn’t going to just let us go. He’s not the sort of man to pursue us himself, but he’ll send those ruffians after us without hesitation. Unless I go with him.”

“What? No!” Archer grabbed Finley’s shoulder. “What are you talking about, Fin? You can’t just hand yourself over to him! Why would you do that?”

Finley squeezed Daphne’s hands, looking down into her face, his own gaze steady. “You have to tell Archie for me—the truth about our father, everything.”

“You should tell him yourself.” She clung to his hands even harder.

“So you found out what Father did to this Barlowe fellow?” Archie asked. “Tell me! What is it? Can we fix it?”

“Yes.” Finley pulled himself free from Daphne’s clasp. “If I go back now and help him.”

“No!” Daphne threw herself at him, winding her arms around his chest and holding on tight, her face pressed against his chest.

“Daphne,” he said gently. She didn’t move. “Daphne,” with more urgency. She still didn’t move.

He sighed and took her firmly by the shoulders, holding her away from him so he could see her face.

“I don’t want to leave you, either of you.

But this is the only way I know how to protect you.

I can’t let you spend the rest of your life running.

They just want me to go through the brambles and free the castle.

Just like you did for Archie. No problem. ”

He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. He had to know it wasn’t going to be that simple. But she could see on his face that he was going to try anyway. For Archie—and for her.

“I’m sorry, Daphne.” He pulled her closer again, kissing her firmly and quickly—like a seal but also a farewell. “I love you.”

Archer’s mouth dropped open, but Finley was already clapping him on the shoulder.

“Look after her for me, Archie.”

He strode away, heading back toward the house. Daphne watched him go, oddly numb.

Archer seized her arm, his voice urgent. “What’s going on, Daphne?”

She turned to him, plans forming in her mind. “We have to follow him.”

“I still don’t understand where he’s going,” Archer said, eyeing her doubtfully, “but do you really think we can drag him back if he’s determined to go?”

“No, that could be disastrous. But we can hide nearby and watch what happens, at least. I need to see how Barlowe treats him. I need to see if he’s a prisoner or a guest.”

“A prisoner?” Archer asked in alarm. “Who is this Barlowe?”

Daphne hesitated. “Come on. We need to get moving. We have to stay in the trees, so we’ll have to take a longer route to reach the front of the manor. I’ll explain as we walk.”

It wasn’t the ideal setting for telling Archie the truth about his past, but she couldn’t keep it from him. As they walked she told him everything they had learned about and from Barlowe—including the true identity of Archer’s father. To her surprise, he accepted it easily, responding with a grin.

“Father always told me I was special—that Fin and I both were. Fin thought it was empty talk, but I knew better. I never dreamed I was a prince, though!”

“Your father was,” Daphne corrected. “I don’t think you are—officially speaking. You have cousins who are princes and princesses, though.”

Archer waved her objections away with an airy hand. “ Official isn’t what matters here. I’m a prince!” He sobered. “But I would like to officially register my objection to Fin putting himself in the power of this Barlowe. He doesn’t sound at all trustworthy.”

“He’s not,” Daphne said flatly.

“Then why did you let Fin go?” Archer exclaimed.

Daphne gave him a look, and he sighed. “Fine, you did your best.” His eyes darted back to her. “What was that back there, by the way? Between you and Fin. What exactly happened at that ball?”

Daphne flushed. “That’s not what’s important right now.”

Archer looked like he wanted to argue, but something caught his eye, and he froze, grabbing her arm.

“Look!” His exclamation was whisper quiet.

Between the trees, they could just see the manor’s front drive and its ornate gates.

The gates themselves were merely decorative, since the manor had no surrounding wall, but the road from the manor to the village ran through them.

Passing through the gates, moving in the direction of the village, was a group of people.

Daphne barely held in her exclamation of dismay. Barlowe strode alone at the front of a collection of rough men, and in their center walked a single straight figure. Finley looked unharmed from a distance, but his hands were tied and two men flanked him, their hands on his shoulders.

Archie growled, and Daphne only just managed to dive forward and catch at him before he launched himself out of the trees after his brother.

“No!” she whispered fiercely. “No, you can’t! Look at how many of them there are! You’d have no hope on your own. We have to go back to Morrow and Nisha. Together we can come up with a plan to free him.”

Archer’s body remained taut, his muscles straining as he leaned toward Finley. But he didn’t use his full strength to break free, and as the seconds ticked by, he slowly relaxed. He still looked mutinous, though, and his eyes hadn’t left Finley.

Daphne blew out a slow breath. She would have liked to race out there and attack Barlowe herself, but she didn’t intend to hand him Archer along with Finley. Finley might have told Archer to look after Daphne, but it was Daphne he was trusting to make sensible decisions.

She kept a tight grip on Archer’s arm as she crept closer, keeping within the shadow of the trees.

A carriage drew up just beyond the gate, but her spark of hope was immediately extinguished when the driver nodded at Barlowe.

The two exchanged a few murmured words she couldn’t catch before Barlowe turned to look at Finley. Fin met his eyes defiantly.

“Yes, yes, you quite detest me. I know.” Barlowe’s voice carried in the still night air. “But it’s safer this way.” He smiled. “For me, at least.”