Page 39 of Legacy of Thorns (Kingdoms of Legacy #3)

Daphne

D espite the certainty—almost the inevitability—with which Daphne had outlined her plan, she still hesitated when she actually stood beside the bed. Her hands clenched the skirts of the gown Gabrielle had given her.

She had spent so long trying to escape the Legacy’s unnatural sleep. Could she really voluntarily lie down and let it sweep her away completely?

“Are you sure Barlowe never saw your face at the ball?” Archer sounded worried. “Are you sure about all of this?”

“Yes,” she said, and as she said it, it became true.

Lorne had shown her that she had to accept the way her naps had shaped her past. And now she had to face the way her fear of them could shape her future. She had to face the worst of what she feared her naps could become and come out the other side.

Because she did believe she would wake again. Just as she was willing to risk everything to save Finley, he would never abandon her to the Legacy’s clutches.

Even so, her legs trembled as she climbed into the bed and slid under the coverlet.

Already the familiar weight of sleep was dragging at her, trying to pull her into unconsciousness.

But she had to resist it. She needed to sleep for longer than a few minutes.

She needed to sleep until Finley woke her.

“Here you go,” Gabrielle said in a subdued voice, holding out a freshly spun length of yarn.

Nanny had talked her through making it while Archer urged them on to hurry.

But it had to be made by Gabrielle’s hands alone.

None of the rest of them dared touch it, even for a moment.

The effects of yarn made by a Sleeping Beauty on the spindle that had put her to sleep were the most potent of all sleep effects—even more so than the prick of a Sleeping Beauty whittled spindle.

As soon as Daphne took the rolled circle of yarn into her hand, the darkness grew too heavy to fight. It forced her eyelids closed, and she barely felt her hand land back on the bed, the yarn still clutched tight in her fingers.