Accomplice to the Villain (Assistant and the Villain, #3)(24)
Gideon grabbed a fluffy pink blanket from the corner, draped it over a chair, then guided Keeley toward it and wrapped it around her shoulders. “Shall I take you to your quarters, Captain?” Keeley nodded, and Gideon barely acknowledged the two of them as he lifted her like something precious and carried her from the room.
Tatianna sighed and watched with a wistful look on her face. “I really loved that blanket.”
Clare smiled, bumping her hip against Tatianna’s. The healer’s braids were pulled back in a high ponytail, giving Clare a perfect view of every beautiful plane of Tatianna’s face. “You lost it to a good cause.”
Alexander Kingsley hopped in through the open door just then, jarring Clare back to the reality of the life she’d built on the back of her best friends. He held up a singular sign.
Wind
Tatianna crouched to be eye level with their princely childhood-best-friend-turned-cursed-frog. “Alexander, why are you speaking in riddles?” Kingsley shook his tiny head and pointed a foot toward the door before scribbling something else onto the sign he’d pulled from the basket in the corner of the room.
Kitch
Clare sighed, frustrated that they needed to decipher Alexander’s words this way. What was he getting at?
“Any ideas?” Tatianna looked up at Clare with a sheepish expression, her pink lips pulling wide at the corners in a near wince. “I got nothing. He’s normally more articulate than this.”
The camaraderie that had been tentatively building back between them gave Clare pangs of guilt in her stomach, but she selfishly wasn’t prepared to give up the newfound ease. Just as she wasn’t ready to admit that the day Tatianna walked out of Clare’s life, she truly realized the depth of pain that came with a broken heart.
She could own her mistakes, and she could make amends for them.
She could start now.
Tatianna licked her lips, drawing Clare’s attention to them as Tati took a large swig of water. “I’m glad you’re here.”
You wouldn’t be. If you knew what I’ve done. How much I’m like my mother…
Clare felt the truth burning on her tongue, dancing at the edge of her parting lips. But the only thing to come out was, “Me too. I don’t like when we aren’t together.”
Tatianna’s dark eyes softened as she took Clare’s hand and squeezed her fingers. “Maybe when this is all over, we could give…being together…another try.”
Clare felt hope swell, sudden and strong, drowning out her guilt, her secrets, everything. “You would…want to be with me again?”
The healer began fiddling with her potions, reorganizing them—a tell of nervousness she’d had since they were children. “I would be willing to try.”
Clare sat on one of the stools at Tati’s work desk, knowing she needed to tread lightly. “Do you remember the day we first met?”
Tatianna grinned. “I remember you telling me my shoes had too much glitter.”
Clare folded her arms, quirking a brow. “And I remember you being so offended you dumped a vial of the stuff on our front porch.”
Tatianna showed no remorse at this reminder, just delight. “Yes, that was a wonderful day. Your mother was furious. I don’t know why she never reprimanded me for it.”
Clare looked down at her hands. “I told her I did it.”
“Why on earth did you do that?” Tati asked. Clare looked up to see she was smiling quizzically at her.
On a deep inhale, Clare breathed in the scents of herbs and medicines, the smells so exact to Tati; they soothed. “I was afraid she wouldn’t let you come over again. I think I told Tryst that night I wanted to marry you.”
Tatianna pushed aside the glass bottles and leaned her elbows across the table. “And what did he say?”
Clare felt comfort at the memory, mingling with regret at how bitter it had all turned out. “He said, ‘You’d better grow comfortable with glitter, then. It appears she owns a lot of it.’”
Tatianna laughed—that light, carefree one she’d had since they were children. The kind that had been so rare in Clare’s home with the pain her mother caused, she’d grown addicted to that laughter. Clare had taken every bit of her disapproval as a challenge to change her mother’s mind. And failed at every turn.
Tatianna’s laughter brought her back. How had Clare gone without it for so long? “Oh, he would say that. A romantic, that one.”
Suddenly, the door collapsed inward with a loud crash, and both women leaped away from the splintering wood.
“Damn it, Trystan!” Tatianna screeched. “Have you never heard of a doorknob, you— Oh gods, Evie! What happened?” Tatianna rushed to clean off the table where she’d been treating Keeley as Trystan carried his apprentice through the shattered door and placed her gently down.
“Someone broke into the manor,” he rasped, face stoic, eyes solemnly staring at the blood on Evie’s face. “She was attacked.”
Clare grabbed her older brother’s arm, gently tugging him away. “Let Tatianna take care of her, Trystan.”
“Make sure she’s still breathing,” Trystan pressed, the pain echoing in his voice. Clare imagined that pain was made exponentially worse by how similar this was to what Trystan had seen when he found Evie lifeless in the Gleaming Palace. “Make sure she’s okay, Tatianna. Please.”