Legacy of Roses: A Beauty and the Beast Tale

Book 1: Kingdoms of Legacy

by Melanie Cellier

Genres: Young Adult; YA Contemporary

Synopsis

A merchant’s daughter who knows better than to pick roses.
A returned royal with no interest in becoming an enchanted prince.
A Legacy determined to force them into a story neither wants.

Rosalie’s family has already lost everything, and she’s willing to do whatever it takes to protect them from further harm. Even if that means stopping ignorant newcomers from picking enchanted roses.

Dimitri knows little about his new kingdom, and he can’t help being captivated by the fiery girl who holds the answers. But Rosalie seems horrified by both his presence and his handsome face, and it turns out she has good reason. In the kingdom of Glandore, it’s a dangerous thing to be a young man of royal blood living alone in a castle. Almost as dangerous as being the youngest daughter of a merchant.

Enter a world where tales of the past shape the enchanted landscape—where glass can bend like a slipper and picking a rose courts danger. A world where the inhabitants must overcome the fabled Legacies as they find romance, adventure, and friendship.

 

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Release date: December 26, 2024

Publisher: Luminant Publications

Print pages: 353

Sample

Chapter 1: Rosalie

“Can’t you go a little faster?” Rosalie gazed back at her friend, her hands on her hips.
Daphne sighed, her body visibly drooping and her steps slowing even further. Rosalie
hurried back to her side, looping her arm through the other girl’s and tugging her down the
road. If they kept walking at Daphne’s pace, it would be nightfall before they got anywhere.
“You were the one who said we should come out here to investigate in the first place!”
Rosalie said as she tugged her friend along. “Can’t you put in a little effort to stay awake?”
Daphne’s eyes flew open at the accusation, her expression wounded. “I never suggested
any such thing! I wouldn’t be so foolhardy. I merely said I saw something strange. You’re the
one who dragged me out here.”
“Anyone would think we’d come ten miles instead of only one,” Rosalie cried. “But
we’re nearly there. The castle is only a little further.”
Daphne allowed herself to be tugged along, despite the doubt in her voice. “Does it
really count as a castle? A manor house at most, surely?”
Rosalie shook her head stubbornly. “The size doesn’t matter. It looks enough like a
castle to count. Just think of all that gray stone—and it even has turrets! You can call it what
you like, but as far as the Legacy is concerned, it’s a castle.”
“I don’t care if the Legacy considers it a castle or a pigsty,” Daphne said firmly. “We
would both do better to stay far away from it. Especially you.”
Rosalie’s mouth set into lines of mulish determination. “Do you think I could sleep a
wink with such a horrid specter hanging over me? The castle hasn’t been inhabited in more
than a generation, and I just turned eighteen a week ago.” Her voice edged toward a
despairing wail. “It can’t be inhabited now, of all times!”
Daphne groaned as Rosalie dragged her around the final turn. Spying a fence post, she
slipped free of her friend and flung both arms onto it, resting her head on top. Her eyes
fluttered closed.
Rosalie ignored her, too busy staring at the building that had come into view. It was still
a fair distance from them, separated from the road by a long stretch of overgrown garden. But
from their current angle, she could see down the sweeping, tree-lined drive to the front of the

castle-like stone structure. And just as Daphne had reported, the heavy wooden door stood
partially open.
“There can’t be a Beast here,” Rosalie moaned. “I won’t allow it!”
Daphne cracked one eye open. “Do you think you can prevent it through willpower
alone?” Her curiosity sounded genuine.
Rosalie’s eyes remained fixed on the distant door. “I know you said it looked as if
someone was here, but I thought…”
Daphne raised her head, roused from sleepiness to indignation. “Just because I like to
take the occasional nap doesn’t mean I’m a fool. I can tell the difference between an open
door and a closed one!”
Rosalie threw her a disbelieving look. “The occasional nap? If everyone from Oakden
is as fond of sleeping as you are, I don’t know how your kingdom functions at all!”
Daphne shrugged and yawned. “We can’t all have as much energy as you, Rosalie. And
you know I wasn’t as bad before I came to Glandore. It isn’t my fault the Legacies punish us
for leaving our kingdoms.”
Rosalie’s eyes narrowed. It was true that the Legacies always inflicted discomfort on
those who strayed beyond the bounds of their birth kingdom, and it was equally true that it
was hard to predict what form that discomfort would take. It certainly wasn’t Daphne’s fault,
but Rosalie did blame Daphne’s parents. Glandorians by birth, they had chosen to move to
Oakden and have a child there. And when they had eventually grown too uncomfortable
living outside their own birth kingdom, they had moved home to Glandore, bringing their
daughter with them. Now Daphne, uprooted from her home kingdom, was the one suffering
in their place.
Perhaps they thought it was acceptable because Daphne was merely sleepy, but Rosalie
found it extremely trying. From what she had learned in school, the famous sleepiness of the
Oakden Legacy wasn’t supposed to be anywhere near as severe as what Daphne experienced.
The Legacy had magnified the effect to excessive levels when she crossed the kingdom’s
border. But Rosalie also suspected her friend of taking advantage of the situation.
Daphne got noticeably more sleepy when she didn’t want to do something. Such as
being dragged down the road from their town in order to examine the nearby derelict manor
house.
It was a good thing Rosalie had enough energy for both of them. She had acquired it
young thanks to the combination of five siblings and the unwelcome attention of the
Glandore Legacy.

“Do you think we should go closer and have a peek inside?” Rosalie asked, hearing the
doubt in her voice. She believed in being proactive, but there was a fine line between staying
ahead of the Legacy and provoking it.
She expected horrified disagreement from her closest friend but received only silence
instead. Glancing over at Daphne, she sighed.
Daphne was asleep. Of course she was.
Rosalie worried at her lower lip as she gazed again at the small castle. Actually
stepping onto the grounds did seem like a foolhardy move. But the longer she gazed at the
lush garden, the more the roses that covered it seemed to glow as if lit from within. If she
plucked a bouquet of them to take home for her mother—
She froze, horrified. What was she thinking? She didn’t even like roses. She would be
happy if she never saw another one again.
Rosalie growled, directing her ire at the faceless, mindless Legacy. The door of the
castle was open and already it was trying to lure her in! But even the dimmest inhabitant of
Glandore knew not to pick someone else’s roses. And Rosalie knew it better than most.
If she hadn’t been so worried about the door, she would have noticed the garden
straight away. When she had walked past two days ago, it had been derelict and overgrown,
as it had been every day of her life. But now it was bright and lush with fresh growth. It
wasn’t just the door that had changed.
Movement drew her eye to one side of the drive. Her mouth dropped open as she saw a
tall young man bend toward the closest rose bush, his hand extending toward the brightest of
the blooms. Apparently there was someone in Glandore foolish enough to pick the castle’s
roses.
But if the Legacy had anything to say about the matter, it wouldn’t only be him
embroiled in whatever mess followed. Which meant Rosalie had to act and act fast. She was
going to have to step onto the castle grounds after all.

Chapter 2: Dimitri

“Stop!”
Dimitri froze with his hand on the rose’s stem. The voice called again, sounding even
more desperate, and he straightened. He had stepped outside for a moment of fresh air and
couldn’t even remember what had drawn him to pluck a rose. He had no use for one.
He scanned the surrounding garden. The cry had come from a young female, and she
had sounded distressed. He hadn’t seen another soul in the building or grounds since his
arrival that morning, but he had been on edge the whole time. An abandoned manor seemed
like an open invitation to rogues and misdeeds.
He turned toward the drive, his eyes still searching for the owner of the voice. His hand
strayed to his waist, but he hadn’t strapped on his sword when he stepped outside, intending
to only go a few steps. He would have to attempt assistance without a weapon.
A young woman appeared, dark hair flying and fire in her eyes as she slid to a stop in
front of him. He glanced behind her for pursuers, but there was no one else in sight.
When he refocused on her, his words of reassurance died on his lips. The force of her
outraged expression was almost enough to send him staggering backward. He had caught a
glimpse of surprise there as well—as if she were taken aback to see him—but it had been
immediately swallowed by her ire.
The girl’s chest heaved as she struggled to regain her breath and talk at the same time.
“What are you doing? Are you out of your senses?” She glared at him as if expecting
an answer, but all coherent words had deserted him.
He glanced from side to side, looking for something that might explain the girl’s
indignation. But there was still no one else in sight, and the grounds looked just as they had
moments before.
“I’m…sorry?” he said when the silence stretched out, her glare continuing full force.
He could have turned the question back on her. She was the one trespassing on his
lands, after all. But he had only just arrived in Glandore to claim possession of his
unexpected inheritance, and he didn’t want to antagonize the locals.
On first arrival, he had been concerned that they might be justifiably resentful of him
for leaving the building so long abandoned. His family had clearly failed in their duties when

they allowed the large grounds to become a wilderness and the building itself to sit empty. It
had been an invitation to those who operated in the shadows.
But thankfully, a closer inspection had revealed that neither the building nor the
grounds were half as dilapidated as they had appeared at first sight. He was even starting to
wonder if his initial impression of long abandonment was wrong. So surely that could not be
the cause of this girl’s indignation.
The girl’s head tipped slightly to the side, her expression softening into one of
confusion. He watched her expressive countenance with fascination. As much as he wanted a
positive connection with the locals, his response to her was more than neighborly goodwill.
The flash in the girl’s gray-blue eyes reminded him of a lightning storm, and he couldn’t look
away. He had been momentarily struck by the beauty of the roses, but they were nothing to
the living, burning beauty of this girl.
“Were you really about to pluck a rose?” she asked at last, disbelief in her voice.
He frowned. She was worried about a flower? From his own garden? Did Glandorians
hold plants to be so precious?
He couldn’t believe it—not when greenery in Glandore grew the moment it was
planted. The kingdom fed not only their own populace but half the surrounding kingdoms as
well. They must harvest their plants many times a year.
But the girl was still staring at him, clearly waiting for an answer.
“They just looked so beautiful,” he said with a note of apology.
He added his most charming smile, hoping to coax her into a better mood. He had seen
several expressions from her, but not yet a smile. A girl who looked so captivating when
angry had to be breathtaking when those eyes were filled with laughter instead.
But the girl shook her head in response to his effort, pity filling her eyes instead of the
smile he had hoped for.
She patted his arm, almost as if he were a child. “It’s a good thing I was here, then. The
unwary can easily fall prey to the Legacy without even realizing. Next time you should ask
yourself why these roses look so particularly bright. They’re trying to lure you in.”
“Lure me in?” he repeated, his original confusion back in full force. The girl was
treating him as if he was simple, but was she the one addled in the brain?
Looking at her eyes again, he couldn’t believe it. And yet her words made little sense.
The girl continued, unheeding of his confusion. “You must be from a distant part of the
kingdom if you don’t know about this place. It’s been empty for more years than I’ve been
alive, you know. But look.”

She pointed dramatically at the manor’s front door which he had left open in an attempt
to air out the large entryway. He blinked at the unmoving door for a moment before looking
back at the girl.
She seemed to think she had made her point effectively because she seized his arm and
dragged him toward the drive. He allowed her to tug him along, his protest silenced by the
combination of confusion and fascination that she evoked in him.
“Since I stopped you in time, we should be able to escape the grounds before the Beast
appears,” she said over her shoulder.
He stiffened, his mind flashing to the sword he hadn’t brought along. He was never
leaving the manor house without it again.
“What sort of beast?” he asked.
She rolled her eyes. “How should I know? It isn’t as if the Legacy is entirely
predictable. Life would be a lot easier if it were.” She grumbled the last line under her breath,
still towing him along with more energy and strength than he’d expected from her small
frame.
“I just feel sorry for the poor soul,” she added. “They must have bungled things badly
for it to get that far. There hasn’t been a Beast in this region for several generations.”
“You feel sorry for…the beast?” Dimitri asked tentatively, feeling more and more as if
he had strayed into a dream.
The girl pulled him over the boundary of the manor grounds onto the public road and
immediately released him. She didn’t leave, however, her eyes fixing on him and her brow
creasing.
“Of course I feel sorry for the man. Would you like to be cursed to take the form of a
terrifying animal?”
“No?” he said tentatively. Was the beast she kept referring to a cursed man? He had
seen no sign of such an unfortunate individual since his arrival.
The girl shook her head and spoke slowly, as if it was his understanding that was
lacking rather than her own nonsensical words. “Now that the Legacy has found a Beast for
the castle, the roses are back in the garden and trying to lure unwary passersby into plucking
them. Even if you didn’t realize the castle was inhabited again, you should know better than
to pluck someone else’s rose! The presence of both a castle and a Beast will make the Legacy
incredibly potent right here, but that doesn’t mean there’s no danger elsewhere. It can still
find a way to trap you with a flower from a different garden.”

Dimitri finally gathered his wits enough to intervene. “I think there’s been a
misunderstanding. I’ve only newly arrived in Glandore, and—”
He had intended to claim ownership of the castle, but the girl cut him off with a
dramatic gasp. He’d already gathered that travelers from beyond the kingdom’s borders were
rare, but it seemed an excessive reaction.
“Don’t tell me you came into Glandore without researching our Legacy!?” She shook
her head. “You really must be a fool.”
He flushed and straightened. He had been raised in a remote area, but that didn’t make
him deficient in understanding. He opened his mouth to repudiate the accusation, but she
spoke again.
“Where are you from? You haven’t shown any inclination to nap so far, so I’m guessing
it isn’t Oakden.”
His earlier protests dissipated in the face of fresh confusion. Half of the girl’s sentences
made no sense.
“Are you from Sovar then?” She scanned him up and down as if looking for something.
“Do you have anything made from glass? One of the girls in town has the most useful pair of
glass gloves that her father bought for her from a peddler. I’ve been waiting and waiting for
the peddler to come around again.” She wilted. “Not that I could afford something like that
now, even if she does reappear.” Her voice lowered, her eyes clouding over. “Not after him.”
The combination of anger, sadness, and resignation on her face shook Dimitri. He was
seized with the unfamiliar desire to seek out a man he’d never met and squeeze restitution out
of him. He bit his tongue on the hot words that wanted to pour out, reminding himself they
were complete strangers. Instead, he tried to distract her.
“Glass gloves?”
As he had hoped, the girl’s expression changed completely yet again, her eyes lighting
up. “Avery is one of the few peddlers who actually travels between the kingdoms herself
instead of exchanging goods at the border like most merchant trains. She acquires the most
amazing items. Last time she visited, she had just been in Sovar. Her cart was full of useful
items made from glass.” She sighed. “But she doesn’t come through often.”
Dimitri still didn’t know how you could possibly make gloves out of glass, but at least
the girl no longer looked as if all her fire had been extinguished.
“Daphne isn’t from Glandore, either,” the girl continued. “But she’s not just traveling
through like you. She actually lives here.” She peered up at him. “What discomfort are you

afflicted with? Is it very terrible?” Sudden understanding illuminated her face. “Has it
clouded your mind? Is that why you fell prey to the Legacy so easily?”
“Ah…” Dimitri had no idea how to answer her question, instead seizing on one of his
own. “Who’s Daphne?”
“My friend.” The girl gestured to the side of the road, and he started, not having
realized they weren’t alone.
But as he took in the second girl’s appearance, his brow slowly creased. She was
propped on her arms on a fence post, which was already strange enough in the circumstances.
But more remarkable still was that she looked utterly at peace, her eyes closed and her
breaths rhythmic and slow despite the conversation taking place right beside her.
“Is she…asleep?” he asked.
The first girl giggled at the obvious wonder in his voice, and he forgot all about the
sleeping girl. The teasing twinkle in the first girl’s eyes was just as charming as he had
imagined.
“Daphne can sleep anywhere,” she said. “It’s the Oakden Legacy’s punishment for
leaving her kingdom. You know what it’s like over there.”
Dimitri didn’t know. He knew almost nothing about Oakden. Just like he knew nothing
about these Legacies she kept mentioning. He knew he should tell her as much and request an
explanation, but he couldn’t bring himself to say anything that might drive away the
amusement lighting her face.
“I’m Dimitri, by the way,” he said instead.
“Rosalie,” she replied, and he smiled involuntarily. It was a fitting name given his first
impression of her.
She misunderstood his expression however, her mouth twisting. “I know. I still don’t
understand what my mother was thinking! It’s like she wanted to provoke the Legacy.”
A loud yawn prevented him from answering, drawing his eyes to the girl on the post.
She straightened, regarding the two of them from half-lidded eyes.
“Who is this?” she asked.
“Dimitri,” Rosalie said promptly, as if she had known his name for years. “He’s from
out of kingdom like you.”
Hearing his name on her lips sent a thrill through him, and in its wake, he felt the first
stirring of unease. His mother had warned him countless times that Glandore and the other
kingdoms were strange places full of deception and treachery. And even Rosalie herself kept
uttering cryptic warnings about fantastical happenings.

Could he trust the instinct that had drawn him to Rosalie the moment he’d seen her? Or
did the strength of that pull mean he should distrust it?
He shifted, uncomfortable with where his thoughts were leading. He didn’t want to
view his new acquaintance with doubt and mistrust. But a charming rogue was of necessity
charming and appealing—wasn’t she?
Not for the first time, he wished he had someone to advise him. But the remote
mountain community that had been his home until recently was full of those who had fled the
easier life of the kingdoms. They had each possessed a reason for leaving that made them
reluctant to speak of their past homes. The mutual silence had been like an unspoken
agreement between them—one that had frequently frustrated a youthful Dimitri. But his
mother had hated mention of the kingdoms most of all, so there had been no point pressing
her for answers.
When she had died, he had come into possession of her private papers. He had been
curious, in an idle way. He certainly hadn’t expected to find a master key, the deed to a
manor—and a whole host of further questions. But there had been no point seeking
clarification from his neighbors—his mother would never have confided in them. And though
they had offered assistance during her long illness and sympathy after her passing, no one had
tried to stop him packing up and leaving. No one had even asked his destination, so they were
still in ignorance of the inheritance waiting for him. Not asking questions about each other’s
business was a foundation of the mountain community.
Dimitri had been braced to find Glandore a dark place, but so far it seemed the
opposite. From the beginning his steps had been lighter, as if his whole body weighed less in
Glandore than it had in the mountains. And his fears about what he would find at the manor
had so far proven unfounded. He had feared his arrival would instigate a property dispute
over the manor’s true ownership, but instead he had found the building and grounds deserted.
His concern had then switched to the burden of how to restore the house and grounds.
And yet every moment seemed to render the once derelict building more habitable rather than
less. With the building in much better shape than he’d feared, he was left only with the reality
of loneliness and isolation—a possibility that had barely formed in his mind when a young
woman catapulted into his day, bringing more brightness than the cloudy sky.
It was a wonder he hadn’t been more suspicious from the beginning. Everything had
been too easy so far. Had he already fallen prey to the enchantment his mother used to hint
at? Was Rosalie luring him in for some fell purpose?

Daphne sidled up to Rosalie, lowering her voice although Dimitri could still clearly
hear her words.
“He looks just like—”
“Don’t talk nonsense.” Rosalie cut her off, her nose raised at a suspicious angle.
Whichever unknown person Daphne was referring to, Rosalie didn’t want to talk about
him.
“He’s just a traveler who failed to sufficiently educate himself before entering
Glandore,” she said. “I had to stop him just as he was about to pluck a rose!”
Given the severity of Rosalie’s earlier reaction, Dimitri expected a dramatic response
from Daphne. But she merely raised her eyebrows before glancing at the lush garden and
wincing.
Dimitri followed her gaze and frowned. Did the garden look even more abundant than
it had an hour ago? He knew plants grew unnaturally well in Glandore, even out of season.
But he hadn’t expected anything so impressive.
“Is this garden…special?” he asked, unsure how to phrase his question.
Rosalie rolled her eyes. “Now he catches on.” She slipped her arm through Daphne’s
and nodded down the road. “You really shouldn’t travel any further into Glandore without
properly educating yourself on our kingdom’s history. We can see you as far as the edge of
Thebarton and give you directions from there into town. The record keeper’s office is on the
central square.”
Dimitri wanted to ask what Glandore’s history had to do with anything, but Rosalie and
Daphne immediately started walking, clearly expecting him to fall into step beside them.
He hesitated for a moment, glancing back at the manor. He should tell them he wasn’t a
traveler—not anymore. He could even reassure them about his access to information. The
large library inside the manor—complete with a history section—made a visit to the record
keepers’ unnecessary.
But if he did that, he would have to farewell Rosalie and Daphne immediately.
Dimitri launched into motion, his long legs easily covering the small distance that had
grown between them. When he caught up, he modified his stride to keep pace with Rosalie.
Glancing down at her, he smiled at the air of suppressed energy that radiated from her. She
might be on the shorter side, but he suspected it was only her reluctant friend that was
slowing her down.
As they walked, his eyes caught on roses growing along the side of the road. Roses
made sense in the garden of a manor house, but he was surprised to see wild ones along the

verge of a remote country road. And when the first scattered homes came into view, their
gardens were full of roses as well.
Apparently the people of this region really loved the flower. He couldn’t see a sign of
any other kind of flower. Rosalie had mentioned roses several times as well. He frowned,
trying to remember the roads he had passed on his journey from the mountains to the manor.
He could vaguely remember seeing roses there too, but his mind had been too full—of grief
over the past and tension over the future—to pay detailed attention to the plants he was
passing.
“There seems to be a lot of roses.” He glanced sideways at Rosalie.
She shook her head, but her lips were curved upward. “That is an understatement.”
When he opened his mouth to respond, she quickly cut him off. “And don’t even think about
making a comment that relates to me and my name. Believe me, I’ve already heard them all.”
Dimitri’s lips quivered, but he didn’t dare laugh in case he offended her further.
“And don’t bother asking me any questions either,” she added. “Since you don’t know
anything, it’s better for you to get the whole picture in one go from the record keeper.”
Once again, Dimitri wanted to protest her assessment of his education. But since he had
felt hopelessly ignorant since the moment of their meeting, he kept his mouth closed.
The two girls stopped in front of a neat cottage with a bordering garden—full of roses,
of course. There was no fence, but the garden ended in such an abrupt line that it was easy to
tell where their land ended. And it was equally obvious that someone cared for it
meticulously.
He glanced again at Rosalie? Was it her? Somehow he couldn’t imagine it—not given
the barely repressed energy that poured out of her and her obvious scorn for roses. She didn’t
seem like she had the patience for careful gardening.
Dimitri only wished her house had been further into Thebarton so he could have more
time with her. Would she reject questions about herself the same way she had about the
flowers?
His thoughts were still occupied with her when she launched into a precise and detailed
set of instructions for how to find the record keeper’s office.
“Once you reach the center of town,” she concluded, “look for the largest house with
the most elaborate frontage. It’s two buildings to the left of that.”
“If the house is still there,” Daphne said mildly.

Rosalie gave her an impatient look. “We aren’t that far out of town! We would have
heard if there was a fire—or smelled it, at least. Plus the boys would already be out here
telling us all about it.”
Dimitri wasn’t sure about the cause of his sudden tension—the casual suggestion that
Thebarton was full of arsonists or the equally casual reference to boys. He would have liked
to question both things, but the two girls’ conversation continued too quickly for him to
interject.
“I suppose you’re right,” Daphne conceded. “Those terrors would be delighted at
having such dramatic news. As if your family isn’t traumatized enough.”
Some of Dimitri’s tension eased at the obvious indication that the boys in question were
children. Rosalie, on the other hand, took offense at Daphne’s words, dropping her friend’s
arm as her hands flew to her hips.
“They aren’t terrors, they’re children. Even if they like to think of themselves as
youths.” She rolled her eyes. “And if the Fosters’ home burns down, it will be no one’s fault
but their own. They’ve been making it more and more fancy ever since—” She broke off,
glancing at her family’s cottage.
Dimitri frowned, once again feeling as if he was missing most of the story.
“Don’t bother trying to pick a fight with me,” Daphne said without heat. “You know I
can’t be bothered arguing with you. Your brothers can be angels if you insist, and I quite
agree about the Fosters. They should forget about their new elevated status and consider the
dangers instead.” She shrugged. “But it’s no business of mine. Or yours, for that matter.” She
added the last part as if she didn’t think there was much point in trying to direct Rosalie
toward disinterest.
Rosalie giggled in response, her momentary heat passed. “My brothers are far from
angels as we both know. And since all three of them are smitten with you, I can understand
why you think them terrors.”
Daphne shuddered—the most animated reaction Dimitri had yet seen from her.
“Please don’t remind me.”
“But how could they help it?” Rosalie said loyally. “You’re so beautiful.”
Daphne rolled her eyes. “If you start up, too, I really won’t come to visit anymore.”
Rosalie grinned, the secure expression of someone who knew her friend would never
abandon her. Dimitri smiled as well, unable to help his face mirroring Rosalie’s expressive
one.

But a moment later, his good humor dropped away as he remembered his upcoming
solitary walk back to an abandoned house. He had never possessed a close friend in the
mountain community—the inhabitants kept too much distance for that, and his mother had
never encouraged it. He hadn’t felt the lack, though. When he had wanted company, there had
always been someone to be found, and when he had wanted solitude, no one had bothered
him. It had seemed ideal. But suddenly he found himself wishing for a friend he could rely on
in everything. It was a novel concept.
“Farewell!” Rosalie said abruptly, piercing his thoughts. He blinked at her as she
dragged Daphne up the path toward the cottage’s door. “Just continue down the road,
remember.” She waved toward where the houses grew closer together. “And don’t forget it’s
the second building on the left.”
Dimitri didn’t even have time to thank her before the two girls disappeared inside the
house, the door closing firmly behind them. He stood for a long moment staring at it and
wondering what sort of family and home lay on the other side.
But at last he shook himself and turned back toward the manor. Thanks to Rosalie he
now knew the name and location of the closest town, and it appeared to be a decent size as
well. When he was ready to visit a store and meet the local leaders, he would know where to
go.
He wasn’t in a hurry to do so, however. He had watched plenty of newcomers join the
mountain community over the years, and those who sought out the unofficial leaders usually
fared the best. But he wanted to do some reading in the manor library to check that matters
were conducted the same way in Glandore. He didn’t want to miss some essential step out of
ignorance.
But as he walked away, his thoughts strayed from Thebarton and its leaders. He
glanced back at the cottage. His path into the town would bring him past her door every time.
Surely he would run into her again?
Before he came back, though, he had study of a different sort before him. Rosalie had
shown him that he had a lot to learn about Glandore—and something called a Legacy. And
while he was at it, he would look for answers about his mother’s family and why they had left
her large and apparently prosperous estate abandoned for twenty years. ...