Accomplice to the Villain (Assistant and the Villain, #3)(10)
Evie grumbled, “I wasn’t going to complain.”
The Villain gave her a pointed look as he pulled a significantly shorter apron from the small closet and handed it wordlessly to Nura, who smiled, busying herself with it in the corner of the room. “‘Subordinate’ implies I have some sort of control over you, Sage,” he said quietly, turning away to cinch the ties of his own apron at his back. “And I would say, by all accounts, you’re hardly below me.”
“Even if he’d really like you to be.” Blade grinned, appearing at Evie’s shoulder. At her eye roll, he slung a muscular arm around her, his green sleeves billowing from his copper vest all the way to his wrists.
A metal spoon soared through the air and knocked Blade square between the eyes. “Ow!” the dragon trainer yelped, releasing Evie as he rubbed at the spot with an accusatory look in his amber eyes.
“Evie’s mother is present, you disrespectful lout.” The Villain took a threatening step toward the dragon trainer.
Blade rubbed his forehead, glaring. “I’m not the one undressing her daughter with my eyes.”
The Villain’s nostrils flared, and Evie was between the two before her boss could take another step, holding a hand out, halting him. “I’m almost certain my mother would find violent murder more offensive than innuendo.”
“It doesn’t have to be violent,” her boss said dryly before turning to attend to the bowl of mangled dough. “Although this…”
Nura stepped forward, her bemused grin at the display fading into a wince when she looked upon her creation. “I know it’s hopeless. I thought it would help if I added that strange pink flour, but it seemed to only make the texture worse.”
“You used my pink flour?”
Lyssa stood in the doorway, her black hair now in two braids adorned with red ribbons, her dark eyes round and glistening with unshed tears and her fingers clenched into tight fists. “That was for my and Edwin’s tea scones.”
Their mother seemed to be unsure of what to do with her hands as she tried to grasp for something to say to the daughter who had been ignoring her almost entirely since her return. Lyssa had refused nearly every attempt at Nura’s attention, and Nura, for all her faults, had taken it in stride.
Until now.
“Lyssa.” Nura reached out for her youngest daughter and flinched when Lyssa stepped farther into Evie’s side. “I—I’m so sorry; I had no idea. Can you forgive me?”
Lyssa’s dark brows turned to a downward slant, and Evie felt her sister’s hands shaking against her waist. “No. That was mine, and you ruined it. You ruined everything.”
“Lyssa,” Evie said carefully, reaching for her little sister but catching only air when Lyssa stepped away and bolted from the room.
A long pause settled over the kitchen, no one moving an inch until Gideon poked his head in, his sandy-brown hair slicked back away from his face. “Everything okay in here? I ran into Lyssa, and she seemed upset.”
When Evie finally found the courage to look upon her mother’s face, she knew with a certainty that Nura’s good day was over.
And Evie braced herself.
For a bad one.
Chapter 5
Evie
The sun had barely risen the next morning when Evie sat upright in bed, clutching her chest, feeling a yawning ache, like someone had hollowed her out and left nothing but emptiness behind.
Lyssa snored quietly beside her, not even flinching when Evie sprang up and dressed, completing all her morning ablutions before gently shutting the large wooden door. Her sleep schedule had been abysmal as of late; she often woke several times during the night until she finally gave up.
The sunlight had just begun to show itself as she crept toward a window, leaning her arm on the ledge to peer out over the wide range of Hickory Forest. She was so lost in thought, she didn’t hear footsteps approaching.
“Good morning, Ms. Sage!” Marv called, nearly dropping a crate that was teetering too far to the left.
Evie rushed to grab the other side, helping Marv place the crate on the ground. “My goodness, Marv. Are you moving?”
Marv pulled at his collar, sheepish, shyly looking upon the box. “No, just taking the donations down to the entryway until they can be transported. Lots of treasures for the less fortunate! It was your sister’s idea.”
The box was filled with keepsakes—an oval portrait of a very pretty woman, a paperweight in the shape of a flower, a cluster of pens, a small toolbox, and a few other odds and ends.
Evie bent down and picked up a fresh pack of quills for writing reports. “Why don’t you place this in the storage closet just down the hall? There’s plenty of room in there, and you won’t have to travel as far with something so heavy.”
Marv blushed, fiddling with his fingers. “That’s most generous, Ms. Sage. Thank you.”
She patted his cheek and picked up the box, but she had overestimated her own strength. As the bin clattered back to the floor, the toolbox rattled out, and the lid cracked on the stone. Out fell a small hammer, a smaller screwdriver, and several shiny new screws.
Marv calmly went to his knees to pick them up, placing them back in the box. “Oh, my. Now I’ve made a mess. My apologies, Ms. Sage.”
Something about the screws looked familiar, and Evie wasn’t certain why…