Page 2 of Legacy of Thorns
She yawned again, her eyes once more drawn to the grass. But she resolutely turned her gaze back to the water. Naps could be excellent tools for avoiding certain situations, but on this occasion, a nap would provide nothing more than a pointless delay.
Twelve years had brought Daphne to this shore, and a few minutes of sleep wouldn’t change that. It was time—and past—for her to cross.
As if in tune with her thoughts, a small rowboat pulled up to the riverbank in front of her. The man inside touched his cap in her direction and smiled.
“Are you lost, miss?” he asked. “That’s Oakden across there.”
Daphne smiled back at him. “I know. I’m headed to the other side.”
“To Oakden?” The man’s brows rose, and he scratched his head. “What do you want to do that for?”
“I’m Oakdenian,” Daphne said simply.
Shouldn’t he have been able to tell? Wasn’t it blazoned across her face? For most of her life, she had worn that label—always pointed out as a curiosity. A girl who had moved between kingdoms and who dropped asleep in any and all circumstances was unusual enough to be noticed wherever she went.
But all of that would change when she stepped foot on Oakdenian soil again. In Oakden, she would be just like everybody else.
“Ah, that will explain it, then,” the man said. “You must be anxious to get back. I’ll row you across for a coin, if you like.”
Daphne accepted the offer and climbed into the boat, taking a seat across from him with her back to Oakden. She had already gazed at it for long enough.
“There’s not many as cross just here,” the man said, making cheerful conversation as he pulled on the oars and sent them shooting across the river. “Most cross at the Marleston ferry down south or else they go upriver to the Glandorian capital and take the ferry there.”
Daphne shrugged. “I’m heading for Ethelson.”
“Even so,” the man said. “It isn’t as if Ethelson is right on the river, so most traffic heading that way crosses at Marleston and takes the river road north to Ethelson.”
He looked at her expectantly, clearly hoping for an explanation, but Daphne remained silent, gazing south down the river. After a long pause, the man huffed and turned his conversation to the weather. Apparently it had been a late spring in Oakden.
Daphne had no intention of telling her life story to a stranger. Traveling between kingdoms already made her remarkable enough—she didn’t want to advertise the fact that her cousin had just married the crown prince of Sovar. Daphne’s royal connection had given her the use of a carriage for as long as she was on the Sovaran side of the border. So it had made sense to cross the river into Oakden as close to her destination as possible. But that hadn’t been her true motivation for crossing so close to Ethelson. Once she stepped foot in Oakden again, she wanted to reach the town as quickly as possible.
Lorne was in Ethelson, and Lorne was much more than just one of her several godparents—more than an offer of accommodation, however welcome. As much as Daphne yearned to set foot in Oakden and be normal again at last, she also feared that nothing would change after all. And no matter which way it went, she would have questions for Lorne. The old man had more experience with travel than any Oakdenian she had met. If anyone could understand her situation, it would be him.
As the boat pushed further into the water, Daphne focused less and less on her companion’s monologue and more on her own body. Was she less sleepy?
She eyed the hard wooden bench beneath her. The narrow plank of wood shuddered and pitched with the movements of the boat, but she didn’t doubt her ability to lie down on it and go to sleep. At least, she could have done so inside Glandore or Sovar. But what about now?
She had heard that the border rivers carried power from the Legacies of both kingdoms that touched them and could therefore be used by the citizens of either side with comfort. Shouldn’t that mean she was already back in Oakden as far as the Legacy was concerned?
But when she concentrated, she could still feel the ever-present pull that lingered at the back of her consciousness, pushing her to lie flat on the seat and close her eyes. Was it just long habit, producing a familiar feeling that wasn’t really there?
She shifted, preparing to lie down and test it, when the boat lurched, nearly sliding her off the seat altogether.
“We’re here,” her personal ferryman said with enthusiasm.
She stood quickly and placed the promised coin in his outstretched hand. He nodded acceptance and farewell, leaving her nothing to do but scramble out of the boat, her pack clutched tightly in her hand.
Dimly she heard the boat depart, but her eyes were on the ground beneath her feet. Oakden. She had finally returned home.
“Home.” The word tasted sour in her mouth. Glandore was her true home.
But Glandore was behind her now. She shook her head and focused on the road that ran alongside the river. It was smooth and flat, bordered by the river to the east and a forest to the west.But her eyes traveled north along it only to where another road branched off, heading westward into the trees.
She had thought her memories of her childhood were hazy, but now that she was here, she easily recognized the road and where it led. Ethelson—the town of her birth.
Daphne hoisted her pack and took the branching road, walking toward the town that was tucked away from the river among the trees. No signpost guided her, but she didn’t need the reassurance. She could vividly remember traveling the same road in the opposite direction. She had ridden at the front of a cart on that occasion, the tray behind her piled high with all her family’s possessions.
Her mother had been crying, and seven-year-old Daphne hadn’t asked why. Even then she’d understood it was a perilous topic. Unlike Daphne, her parents had been born in Glandore and had chosen to move to Oakden as adults. But after ten years of living with the Glandore Legacy’s burden, her parents were returning in defeat.
