Page 32 of Legacy of Thorns
He dropped his potato into the bucket of peeled ones and snatched up another, wielding his knife savagely. “We didn’t need Father. I could have looked after Archie on my own. But when Father came, Archie was so excited. He barely remembered him from before, and he was desperate to know his father. He’d just lost his mother, so how could I say no?”
“You couldn’t,” Daphne said softly. “Of course you couldn’t.”
“The first thing he did was take us away from Mirandar. I could have refused to go, of course. I was old enough forthat. But I couldn’t send Archie off with him alone.” There had been no way he was going to trust Archie to their unreliable father. “So all three of us became homeless drifters. Our father was extravagant, wasteful, and a spendthrift—a man without a practical bone in his body. But he was also charming and had an unshakable faith that good fortune was just around the corner, so he was always finding people to loan him money.” Finley’s expression hardened even further. “Of course those relationships always eventually soured. And then we would move on to the next place.”
Daphne shifted in her seat as if uncomfortable with his words. But when she spoke, her voice was soft. “That must have been difficult.”
Finley couldn’t look at her or reply. He needed to get through the story, and her sympathy unraveled him. Nisha and Morrow had both listened in silence.
He cleared his throat. “I got jobs wherever I could, and worked to pay off his debts. But I could never earn enough. Mostly, I did what I could to shield Archie from the truth.”
“How sad that your father’s optimistic outlook was so misdirected. He sounds like Archie in that regard, except Archie uses his positivity to cheer and help others.”
Finley jerked, nearly cutting his finger with his peeling knife. Words of defiance leaped to his tongue. Archie was nothing like their father.
But he swallowed the words down, bitter though they were in his throat. Was she really wrong? Finley might hate to admit it, but her words rang true. If he forced himself to see past the bitterness and anger that clouded his view of his father, Archie was very like the man. But Archie was their father without his fatal weaknesses.
He forced himself to speak, though the words sounded wooden. “Archie has the best parts of both our parents.The charm and positivity of Father, and the goodness and compassion of Mother.”
Daphne tipped her head to the side. “And what of you?”
He frowned at her, but she didn’t seem to notice, continuing to muse aloud. “Archie grew to be like your parents, but he took the best of them and filtered out the worst. You, I think, are the opposite.”
Finley stiffened. Was she saying that he was the worst of both parents?
But again she continued without waiting for him to speak. “You rejected your father and shaped yourself to be his opposite. You saw his irresponsibility and became far more responsible than any youth should have to be.”
Her words resonated somewhere deep inside Finley, brushing against something too painful to be touched. Was that what he’d done? Had he formed himself in reaction against his father?
He shied away from the question. There was no part of his father in him—even in opposition.
“Most people find me just as charming as Archie, you know,” he said with a smile that was a ghost of his usual, easy one.
“I know.” Daphne continued to gaze at him. “But I think with you the charming rogue role is a mask. Archie might truly be one at heart, but not you.”
Finley stared at her, robbed of speech.
Daphne’s brow crinkled, and her eyes seemed to turn inward. “You talk as if you hate your father, but surely…” She looked up and met his gaze, her own confused. “He’s your father! And he can’t be all bad if he managed to raise you and Archer.”
“Our mother raised me.” His breath sawed through his throat. “And after she left us, I finished raising Archer. We owe our father nothing.”
“Nothing?” Daphne sounded genuinely shocked, her emotions rubbing against his newly re-opened wounds.
“You may choose to close your eyes on the truth of your parents,” he snapped, “but I choose to see my father clearly, as he actually was.”
Daphne frowned at him. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“My father ruined my life, and I won’t pretend otherwise. But what of you? Your parents’ selfishness ruined your life, too, and yet you pretend it was an unavoidable occurrence. They’re the ones who chose to move kingdoms and then to have a child in Oakden. Having done that, they should have endured, no matter what it cost—not run away and forced their child to take the burden in their place.”
Daphne pulled back as if struck, and Finley’s eyes widened. He had lashed out without thinking. He was no better than a wounded animal, acting as if he had been backed into a corner.
“I’m sorry,” he said quickly. “Forget I said that. Your parents and your life—it’s none of my business.” He hesitated before adding in a much softer voice. “I do think your parents wronged you. But you’re the injured party, and the emotions are yours to feel—however you feel them, without any reference to me.”
Daphne opened her mouth only to close it again. She didn’t unleash the tirade on him that he deserved, but her face still contained the glassy, shocked look. Finley’s stomach clenched.
“My life hasn’t been ruined,” she said with dignity, but there was a catch in her voice as if she wasn’t entirely sure she believed her own words.
Fin’s stomach twisted tighter. Maybe there was something of his father in him after all, to behave with such unconcern for Daphne’s feelings after everything she had already undergone for his sake.
