Page 29 of Legacy of Thorns
Daphne’s lips tightened, but after a reluctant moment, she took the cloak and pulled it on.
“The least we can do is take care not to get them dirty.” She gave them both a warning look.
“Yes, my lady.” Archie gave her a cheeky grin, managing to wrest a laugh out of her.
“Don’t start that again,” she said, but she was smiling as she said it.
Finley smiled as well, but his heart wasn’t in it. Now that they had reached the village, responsibility for Daphne and Archer’s safety had settled on his shoulders much more heavily than the cloak.
“Hoods up,” he said gruffly, and they both complied, although Archie did it with a teasing look that made Finley groan internally. He would need to keep a close eye on his brother.
But he needn’t have worried. Once they stepped into the village streets, Archie’s manner changed. He lingered protectively by Daphne, keeping his head down even as his eyes darted in all directions. Perhaps it was typical for his brother’s age, but Finley was always taken by surprise when Archie switched so easily between boy and man.
They followed the trickle of people moving toward the single village square.
“We’re lucky it’s market day,” Daphne murmured. “Stallholders will assume we’ve come in from one of the outlying areas. Just make sure you both hang back. You insisted on accompanying me, so don’t cause trouble!”
“Yes, my lady,” Archie said with a wicked twinkle that turned his face boyish again for a moment.
Daphne gave him an exasperated look, but Finley handed her a leather purse before she could retort. Her fingers closed over it instinctively, but her expression turned dubious.
“For the purchases,” he explained. Her brows didn’t soften, so he added, “It’s not stolen.”
She raised an eyebrow, but Archie backed him up.
“We earned it honestly, I swear. We do get honest work from time to time.” He grinned again, and Daphne narrowed her eyes.
“I find it hard to believe you’ve ever done an honest day’s work in your life,” she said sternly, but her face and posture gave her away. Her shoulders had relaxed, and her hands were slipping the purse out of sight in one of her pockets.
“It’s a surprise, isn’t it?” Archie’s good humor was unabated. “But plenty of people have jobs that need Morrow’s strength, and the rest of us tag along. Most recently we spent three whole months hired as guards for a merchant caravan that made the trip back and forth between the capital and the Marleston crossing. They even hired me when they saw I could use a sword.” Archie’s tone was proud, and Daphne turned her head away to hide a smile.
“Very well, then.” She led the way toward the baker’s stall. “Just remember—no causing trouble!”
Finley obediently stepped back, he and Archie forming a guard behind her as she greeted the baker’s assistant. The lad busied himself collecting her order, giving no indication of surprise at encountering an unfamiliar face. The same thing happened at the next stall and the next. Daphne did all the talking, while the two men hung back and kept their faces shadowed by their hoods.
Finley barely registered Daphne’s bargaining, his focus devoted to the market crowd. He caught no sign of anyone herecognized, and no one was paying undue attention to the small group of three, two of whom were growing more and more laden down with packages.
But when Daphne stopped at a final stall near the edge of the market, the stallholder caught his attention. The woman smiled readily enough at Daphne and gathered the requested items without issue, but her eyes kept jumping to Finley and Archie. When she lowered her voice and leaned toward Daphne, Finley came to full alert, his attention focused on the woman.
“Awfully self-conscious for such strapping fellows, aren’t they?” she murmured, her voice tinged with excited curiosity.
“Sadly, yes,” Daphne replied in a serious tone, not missing a beat. She mirrored the woman’s movements, leaning across the stall to close the distance between them and dropping her voice. “It’s the hair, you know. A family affliction among the males. I’ve tried to tell them there’s no shame in going bald, no matter your age, but…” She sighed and shook her head.
The woman smiled triumphantly. “I guessed as much! Their egos are fragile when they’re young, my dear, so there’s no point telling them not to mind it. I know just the type, and I have the very thing for you.”
Daphne clasped her hands together, her expression hopeful.
The woman pulled out a tiny bottle with a flourish. “We had roving merchants through town recently, and I managed to acquire a hair tonic from Stonyfell.”
Daphne gasped dramatically and clasped her hands to her mouth in apparent astonished delight. Finley growled too quietly for the woman to hear, and Daphne’s smile grew. She was clearly enjoying herself.
But she let her face fall, biting her lip and twisting her hands together as she glanced back at the two robed figures. “It would be just the thing, but an item from Stonyfell must be expensive. How much are you asking for it?”
The woman named a price, and Daphne’s face fell. She glanced into her purse and then gazed wistfully at the miniature bottle.
“So much…” she sighed.
The woman broke into voluble praise of the tonic and assurances of its rarity, and Daphne sighed again.
