Page 90 of Legacy of Roses

As soon as she was certain she had control of her body, she sidled sideways around the curve of the tree trunk, still in a crouch. Every nerve was screaming at her to run, but she forced herself to move slowly and smoothly, trying to avoid anything that might draw the men’s eyes.

The second she reached the other side of the trunk, two slender hands grasped her and pulled her into the trees. She stumbled after the woman, her body less coordinated than she would have liked after the cold, uncomfortable hours.

The two of them wove between tree trunks, trying to watch their steps and make no noise until the woman pointed at a particularly dense clump of bushes.

“There!” she said quietly and disappeared into the depths of the clump.

Rosalie hesitated only a moment before following. It was surprisingly roomy beyond the first layer of branches, and she finally relaxed enough to catch her breath, leaning over to brace herself on her knees.

“Are you all right?” the woman asked, her voice setting off a wisp of memory in Rosalie’s mind.

Rosalie peered up at her. The day had already grown brighter, and even in the middle of the clump of bushes, she was able to see long wavy hair, so dark it was almost black, and full lips.

She straightened with a startled exclamation. “You’re Avery! The peddler! But whatever are you doing here? Why did you rescue me?”

“I prefer roving merchant,” the other young woman said with dignity, but her eyes were amused. “As to what I’m doing here…Originally I was passing through the woods. But that commotion would have attracted anyone’s attention.”

Rosalie grinned. “That was the idea.”

She wanted to ask why Avery had been so far from any roads, but she didn’t want to respond to a rescue with an inquisition.

“I’m glad it worked,” she said instead. “Although you weren’t the one I was hoping to alert.”

Avery’s eyebrows rose. “You did that on purpose? I’m impressed.”

Rosalie flushed. Avery might not be much older than she was, but she had always admired the woman’s independence and capability. Few people could endure the rigors of constant travel between the kingdoms.

“I’m sorry for getting in the way of your rescue,” Avery said with a laugh. “Perhaps I shouldn’t have gotten involved. But when I saw a group of angry men fighting each other and a lonegirl tied to a tree, it didn’t require a lot of discernment to work out whose side I was on.”

“Thank you!” Rosalie said fervently. “I really do appreciate your intervention, and I don’t want to seem ungrateful, but I have to leave quickly. There’s a situation, and it’s urgent. You see, I?—”

“If it’s urgent, don’t waste any more time talking to me,” Avery said. “But will you be all right? Do you need help?”

Rosalie shook her head. “Thank you, but it’s something only I can do. I just have to get there quickly.”

Avery nodded, not questioning her further, although her eyes were alight with curiosity.

Rosalie turned to leave but paused and looked back. “But what about you? Is your camp far away? What if Jace’s men find you while they’re searching for me?”

“Jace?” Avery frowned. “I heard about him last time I traveled through Thebarton. He’s back?”

Rosalie sighed. “Unfortunately, yes. Those are his mercenaries.” Her lip curled. “As you can see, he’s put my family’s money to good use.”

Avery’s eyes narrowed. “Don’t worry about me. I can take care of myself. But…” She hesitated before drawing something from her boot and holding it out to Rosalie. “You should take this.”

Rosalie responded instinctively, accepting the tiny dagger and its scabbard before she realized what she was holding. She looked from the miniature weapon to Avery.

“Thank you?” It came out more hesitantly than she’d intended.

Avery chuckled. “Don’t worry, size is deceiving in the case of that little beauty. Plus it fits in your boot, which is very convenient!”

Rosalie slipped it into her boot as instructed, despite her continued confusion. She wasn’t in the position to turn down a weapon, no matter how insufficient.

As she straightened, Avery murmured, “It was gifted to me by a talented Oakdenian herbalist.”

Rosalie eyes widened. “Ohhh,” she breathed, looking down at her boot.

In Oakden, they had herbs infused with their Legacy that could be used to make powerful sleeping potions. The potions were sold to doctors throughout the kingdoms and were highly prized. But she’d heard rumors that the herbs could be used to make a different type of substance—a more potent version that they rubbed on the blades of weapons. One prick was enough to send someone to sleep. Possession of the weapons gave the Oakdenian armed forces an advantage, and neither the herbs nor the weapons were ever traded to outside merchants.

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