Page 7 of Legacy of Thorns (Kingdoms of Legacy #3)

Finley

D aphne had been watching him all evening. Surreptitiously, but she was watching. Why? Did she suspect something?

Finley turned in his bedroll, frustrated that he couldn’t get comfortable. They were so close. It would only take one more day to reach Archie, and he was sure Daphne would help them when they did. Mostly sure.

If she didn’t…His eyes drifted to the boots beside his makeshift bed. They still concealed the tiny dagger he had taken from the old man’s desk.

He would do his absolute best to persuade Daphne to help willingly, but if she wouldn’t…

Well, there was another use for the famous Oakden sleeping herb beyond the sleeping potions made and sold to doctors.

When it was infused into the blades of weapons, those weapons could send someone to sleep with the smallest prick.

Not permanently, of course. Finley had no desire to harm Daphne. He wouldn’t even have lied to her if it wasn’t for his brother.

If the herbalist who used to live south of Ethelson—the one who had sold Finley his old dagger—had still been in his old workshop, Finley wouldn’t have had to take a dagger at all.

But the herbalist was gone. From the look of his house, he had been driven away by a fire, so it wasn’t likely he was coming back.

And Finley needed the advantage an Oakdenian blade could provide.

As always, he had done what he had to do to keep his brother safe. And yet, it was a long time before he managed to drop to sleep.

The next morning, he woke abruptly with the dawn as he always did. He was used to waking up first among their group, but this time one bedroll was already empty. Daphne’s.

Finley sat up, immediately alert. Had she waited for the rest of them to fall asleep so she could run from them in the night? What had tipped her off?

But a moment’s reflection calmed his anxiety. If she had fled, she would have taken her bedroll and pack.

So where was she? He pulled on his boots, considering the possibilities. Despite the presence of her possessions, he wouldn’t rest easy until he had seen the girl herself.

He prowled through the trees, moving noiselessly as he listened for any sign of another person.

He could hear none. That didn’t mean she wasn’t there, though.

Like Finley, Daphne had received the birth gift of grace, and if her beauty was any indication, the Legacy’s power had been strong at the time of her birth.

The slightest rustle of leaves met his ears, and he tensed. The rustle sounded again, and he turned in its direction, catching sight of movement through the trees. As he crept closer, Daphne came into view.

She stood in a small clearing set back from the road and didn’t appear to notice his approach. Her focus was turned inward as she glided through a practiced series of long, flowing movements.

Finley’s brows rose as he watched her. He knew those movements.

He had done them himself, morning after morning, holding each one until his muscles quivered with the strain.

They were more difficult than they appeared, although Daphne made them look easy and smooth.

She was completing the solitary practice dance of a fighter who had no companion to spar with.

For a girl so prone to naps, she was a master at the training dance, and apparently an early riser as well. Finley guessed she must start every day the same way. At every turn, she grew more fascinating.

And more appealing. He was honest enough to admit that, even if he knew his acquaintance with the girl from Glandore was about to come to an abrupt end.

But it hadn’t ended yet.

Before he had consciously decided to do so, his body moved forward. Emerging from the trees, he slid into the space beside her, mirroring her current movement.

She nodded slightly to acknowledge his presence but didn’t pause. He had expected her to be startled, but she responded as if she’d known he was there the whole time. Perhaps she had.

He joined her pattern, moving through the oft-practiced poses with ease. He was taller than Daphne, so at first he had to work to stay aligned with her pace, but he soon fell into the rhythm of it.

As the minutes ticked by, Finley’s muscles began to ache, twitching as he tried to hold himself steady. Daphne, however, neither faltered nor slowed. Finley hadn’t been practicing enough lately.

He pushed on anyway, realizing how much he had missed it.

The stillness of the morning seeped into him, relaxing his worries of the night before.

The repetitive movements and even the strain of his muscles had a meditative effect.

Or maybe it was the girl at his side who made the experience so peaceful.

Enclosed by the trees, at the cusp of the day, they felt alone in the kingdoms, and he felt each one of her deep, even breaths as if it was his own.

Did she feel his? Did she feel the unexpected communion of the shared moment? Would she still feel it when it came time for him to ask for forgiveness?

He straightened abruptly, breaking the flow of the movements only beats before the training dance ended. Daphne glided to a more gentle close, gazing at him quizzically.

“We need to get moving,” he said roughly, striding off toward their campsite and leaving her to trail behind.

He couldn’t afford to lose focus or to waste time on a fool’s hope. Protecting Archie was what mattered—not the forgiveness of a bright-eyed girl with honey-brown hair and hidden depths.

He strode out of the trees to find Morrow awake and preparing a hot breakfast. Finley would have preferred to get moving immediately—the turmoil inside him demanded forward progress. But he pushed the feeling down, well practiced from years at concealing his true emotions.

He half expected Daphne to quiz him on his unexpected appearance in the forest, but she ate breakfast and helped pack up camp as if nothing had happened.

She wasn’t entirely unaffected by her morning’s exertions, however.

After rolling up her bedroll, she sank onto the ground, placed her head on it, and fell instantly asleep.

“Is she napping already?” Nisha paused halfway through putting the cooking dishes in her pack to stare at Daphne. “She just woke up.”

Finley shrugged. Daphne had expended enough energy in the forest to earn a nap, but he found himself loath to speak about their shared morning training.

His own muscles already ached, although they hadn’t even started walking for the day. He couldn’t have settled to sleep, though. Restless energy buzzed through every line of his body.

He gazed at Daphne. She looked utterly peaceful. Apparently the training dance hadn’t affected her the way it had affected him.

She woke with a stretch and beamed beatifically around, apparently pleased to find their camp fully packed and the packs ready to go.

“Are we ready to start?” she asked as if she hadn’t just slept through the last of the morning’s work.

Finley smiled reluctantly. He should have felt irritated with her, but somehow it was impossible. And from the smiles Nisha and Morrow were hiding, he wasn’t the only one who felt that way.

On the road, they fell into the same walking rhythm as the day before with one notable difference.

Finley still walked in the middle, but Daphne positioned herself at the front, beside Morrow, leaving Finley to walk alone.

He tried not to let that sting. As long as Daphne remained with them, nothing else mattered.

At the midday meal, Daphne produced a cheese from her pack to share. It was greeted with enthusiasm by Morrow and Nisha, and even Finley couldn’t help smiling as he ate it. Judging from its quality, she must have brought it with her from the Sovaran palace.

With lifted spirits, they made good time after the meal, and it was only mid-afternoon when Finley spotted a small road branching off from the main one and disappearing into the trees.

“That’s our road,” he called to Morrow, and his companion nodded, turning toward it.

It was smaller than the main road south through the forest, but it led to a small town and was well maintained.

At sight of it, Daphne perked up, clearly eager to arrive at their destination.

Her enthusiasm sent another stab of guilt through Finley which he had to work to suppress.

At least his deception was nearly at an end.

Morrow led them down the smaller road, and Daphne dropped back to walk beside Finley again. The new path wasn’t wide enough for anyone to walk comfortably beside Morrow’s broad frame.

Finley smiled warmly at her, but her initial enthusiasm had dimmed, and she barely seemed to notice. Each step made her more quiet and thoughtful—even tense. Did she suspect something? Had the time come to tell her the truth?

But before he could make up his mind to speak, the road bent to the right and the village appeared before them, nestled among the trees.

Daphne brightened at its appearance, but her mouth soon turned down as Morrow led them off the main road to circle around the town.

She cast glances between the three of them but remained silent, waiting to see where Morrow was leading.

When a large manor house appeared before them, her brow cleared. “Are they accommodating Gordon at the manor? That’s kind. I’m sure Lorne will be much more comfortable there than at the village inn.”

Finley said nothing, not willing to lie yet again when he was so close to confessing the truth. Nisha and Morrow both remained silent as well, and a small line appeared between Daphne’s brows.

Finley tensed, but she didn’t push him for answers. Neither did her steps slow, although he caught a bright, alert glint in her eyes that was at odds with the already familiar languor of her manner.

When they skirted the house to weave through the trees, however, she stopped. The rest of them stopped as well, Morrow several beats behind the others.