Page 36 of Legacy of Thorns (Kingdoms of Legacy #3)

Daphne

D aphne cantered down yet another endless road, grateful for Archer’s presence at her back.

Despite the simmering tension that drove her forward, she kept slipping into short naps.

And though she usually kept unlikely balance during her Legacy-fueled naps, she didn’t like the idea of napping alone on the back of a racing horse.

When they finally stopped for a few snatched hours of sleep beside the road, she slept deeply and dreamlessly.

“At least we don’t need to worry about meeting Barlowe on the way,” Archer commented once morning dawned. The hard night’s ride hadn’t diminished his usual cheer. “Even my optimism doesn’t like our chances if we try a direct attack.”

Avery had shown them a route on the map that kept them away from the main carriage road, leading them on paths that were less smooth but more direct.

“This route also avoids the town on the eastern side of the lake, though,” Daphne said. “Which means we won’t be able to collect reinforcements.”

“I doubt we would have been successful at gathering them even if we tried. We still don’t have any proof, and I don’t exactly look the part of a prince on his way to wake a Sleeping Beauty.”

Daphne grimaced at the thought of what she herself must look like after a night divided between horseback and the forest floor.

When the first cherry blossom tree appeared, Archer urged Nutmeg into a faster pace.

It wasn’t long before their path approached the lake from the north, disgorging them onto a much wider carriage road that ran westward along the north side of the lake.

Cherry blossom trees lined the road on either side, and they thundered along between clouds of blossoms.

Despite the size and beauty of the road, the surface was rough and pitted, as if it didn’t see regular use and hadn’t received upkeep in years.

Daphne drew encouragement from the indication that they’d reached the right place.

If this part of the road ended at the castle, as they hoped, it must have long ago fallen into disuse.

Nutmeg, already having proved her ability as far beyond any normal horse, tossed her head, neighed, and increased her pace without urging, galloping toward two distant white towers. Neither Archer nor Daphne made any attempt to slow her.

They rounded a corner, and a solid wall of brambles came into view, towering above them. It blocked the end of the road completely, although it wasn’t quite tall enough to obscure the white towers beyond.

Nutmeg came to an abrupt halt before the brambles, and Archer swung down from her back. He turned to offer assistance to Daphne, but she was already sliding down on her own, her eyes glued to the wall of greenery.

“We beat them,” she murmured, sure Barlowe would have had Finley remove the entire wall if they’d already arrived.

“Do you really think I can move all that with a single touch?” For the first time Archer’s usual confidence faltered.

“The volume of brambles doesn’t matter.” Daphne spoke confidently, having experienced it for herself. “It’s hard to describe. Just touch it, and you’ll understand.”

He reached out, and she quickly spoke again. “Just remember we only want a small hole. We want to get ourselves and Nutmeg through, but then you have to close it up again. We don’t want to remove them all yet.”

Archer rolled his eyes. “I know. It would be hard to forget considering that’s the only part of the plan we’ve worked out.”

“In my experience, youthful boys aren’t always good at details,” she muttered, as he reached out to touch the closest vine.

The greenery in front of them burst into movement, slithering over and under as it unwound itself. It shrank away from them, creating a tunnel that arched just above the height of their heads, leaving just enough room for Daphne to lead Nutmeg through.

“Nice work.” Daphne retrieved Nutmeg’s bridle and gestured for Archer to lead the way.

“You were right—it was easy.” Archer grinned, his confidence restored. “And it should be just as easy to get it to close again. It’s incredible, actually! I wonder how long my power over it will last.”

Daphne frowned. “Long enough for Barlowe and Finley to arrive, I hope.”

Archer wasn’t listening, too busy gazing at the scene on the other side of the brambles. A small white castle rose before them, enclosed on all sides by the wall of greenery.

“You can close it now,” Daphne said when he showed no sign of noticing that she and Nutmeg had stepped out of the tunnel of brambles. “Archer?”

He jerked around and stared at her. “What? Oh, right!”

He hurried back to touch the closest bramble, directing it to close again behind them. Daphne watched him with a crease between her brows. Was his abstraction a result of the Legacy power? Was it already driving him toward the girl waiting in the castle?

Someone had to wake the girl up—Daphne didn’t deny that. But given her own experience in a much less power-filled situation, she had grave concerns about what would come after the waking.

Ever since she had woken Archer, she had felt the power of the Legacy lingering around her, growing increasingly strong.

But she had never felt it as strongly as she did inside the wall of brambles.

She only hoped she could direct its power in a way that helped them all rather than falling prey to it.

Archer bounded up the front steps to the closed door of the castle. It opened easily beneath his hand, swinging wide to give them access to the entryway beyond.

They both stepped inside and stopped short. Daphne had been inside manors and castles before, but this entryway was far more crowded than any she had yet seen.

A large staircase gave access to the upper levels, and an enormous fireplace stood along one wall, an old woman slumped on a chair beside it, asleep.

But those features were mere backdrop to what stood in the center of the space.

Dominating the entryway completely stood a large canopied bed holding a sleeping girl, her head cushioned on a soft pillow.

Daphne wasn’t close enough to get a proper look at her face, but a golden plaque attached to the bed spelled out her name: Gabrielle.

“He brought his daughter’s bed down to the entryway?” Daphne shook her head in disbelief. “I know Sleeping Beauties can’t be moved, but that seems excessive. I suppose he didn’t want anyone who made it this far to miss her.”

“Well, you certainly couldn’t do that,” Archie snorted.

“I suppose the woman by the fire must have been a servant here when the girl was enchanted.” Daphne gave the slumbering woman a sympathetic look. “Do you think there are other servants sleeping around the castle?”

Archer shrugged, already moving toward the girl. “I suppose we’ll find out after we wake her up.”

Daphne caught his sleeve, slowing him down. “Are we sure about this?” she asked uneasily. “Maybe we should come up with a strategy first?”

Once the girl was woken, the ticking clock would begin on Archer’s control over the brambles. And with such an ostentatious placement of the bed, it would also make their interference immediately obvious to Barlowe.

But, once again, Archer hardly seemed to hear her, his eyes focused on the girl.

“Archer!” she said more sharply, and he finally looked her way.

“Are you ready for this?” she asked. “She’s going to be…confused about you when she wakes up.”

Archer reached the side of the bed and looked down at the sleeping girl. “We can’t just leave her asleep. I was a sleeper myself once, remember.” He swallowed. “I sometimes have nightmares where you never woke me up and I’m still stuck there, asleep, while my brother gets older and older.”

Daphne softened. “I didn’t know that.” She hesitated. “Do you remember those first moments after you woke up? How strong was the enchantment you felt toward me in those moments?”

“Overpowering,” Archer said promptly, still looking down at the girl.

“I’m worried about how long-lasting the infatuation has been.” Daphne frowned. “Your sleeping enchantment was so much weaker than hers, and yet there’s been nothing weak about your infatuation. What will it be like for this girl?”

Archer grinned mischievously at her. “I suppose now would be the right moment to confess that the effect gradually weakened over time and completely wore off weeks ago.”

“Archer!” Daphne glared at him.

He continued to grin unrepentantly. “I needed something to entertain myself, and Fin’s reactions were too priceless for me to stop.

Plus he clearly needed me to spur him on.

” He shook his head. “He isn’t usually so bloodless and cautious.

” His grin reappeared. “And it worked, didn’t it? I saw what happened after the ball.”

“That wasn’t because of you, infant.” Daphne sighed, gazing down at the girl. “What do you know of love?”

“Nothing, thankfully,” Archer said cheerfully. “You can tell that to the girl if she gets too attached.”

“I can try,” Daphne said dubiously.

“Gabrielle,” Archer read off the girl’s name plaque. “It’s a nice name.”

Up close the girl looked just as young and innocent as Archer had looked while asleep.

It seemed impossible she was as old as sixteen, and yet Daphne had thought the same thing of Archer.

She just wished the girl had some family to stand at her side and greet her when she woke, as Finley had done for Archer.

Perhaps that was the silver lining of the Legacy’s infatuation.

Perhaps it would soften the blow the girl was about to receive as she learned of the death of her only family member.

Archer dropped to one knee at the side of the bed and picked up one of the slender hands that rested against the coverlet.

“Well, here goes,” he muttered to himself and lifted it to his lips.