Accomplice to the Villain (Assistant and the Villain, #3)(41)
Evie ushered them along until they were all standing before the reconstructed window—the one Alexander had spent many hours gazing out of, wondering if this was the only life he’d ever live.
Trystan avoided getting too close to Evie as he leaned down to peer at it. The sun was just brushing the glass as it began to rise, and the light illuminated the two stubborn fools, surrounding them in a radiant glow. As if even the elements were growing impatient at the fight they were putting up to stay apart.
Blade jogged over. “Anything?”
“Not yet,” Tatianna said, leaning her elbow on the dragon trainer’s shoulder. “I suppose it would be insensitive to ask Edwin to fix us a big breakfast after the day he had yesterday?”
Evie held her midsection with a small moan. “Don’t say ‘breakfast.’ My stomach is eating itself.”
“I’ll make breakfast,” Trystan said quickly, thoughtlessly, watching the glass like he was waiting for it to explode.
Evie’s eyes went round. “You’ll make what?”
Trystan shrugged, planting his hands on his waist. “It’s just breakfast, Sage. No cause for alarm.”
Perhaps not alarm, no, but Alexander could see many causes for celebration, considering Trystan had avoided the kitchen since becoming The Villain and now was offering to cook something for the third time in a month.
“I’m just hungry. That’s all,” his friend added.
You aren’t hungry. You are in love, you emotionally stunted fool.
Unfortunately, there was not nearly enough room on a sign for Alexander to say that.
And no time to, as the sun illuminated the pieces of glass head-on, shining against them so brightly the group shaded their eyes. Alexander mimicked the gesture. For a moment, all he could feel was a burning sensation every time he blinked, hopping backward until the rays weren’t so imposing.
But he stopped when there was a collective gasp among the group.
“Tatianna. Do you have your magnifying instrument with you?” Trystan asked, leaning down, voice tinged with wonder.
The healer wordlessly handed it over, and when Alexander hopped atop Trystan’s shoulder, he, too, could see that the once drab-looking book etched into the glass had been transformed by the sunlight into a streak of color, the pages turning silver with a single word etched into the top.
Rennedawn.
And then the window came alive and the book flipped open.
“Don’t touch it!” Trystan ordered as Blade reached for it in wonder.
“What does it say?” Evie asked, squinting to make out the words that were almost too small to read.
Trystan held the magnifying device over it and read the words aloud.
At the start of the world, the magical gods knew That color would bleed and all would undo.
So to save this place they knew humans would break They enlisted the tools of Destiny and Fate.
The beauty of stars that gleam at night
The children of Fate, created in light
And the magic that balances all dreamed of
Is the key to saving the world in true love.
The person who rescues the magical lands
Will take this Fate’s youngling well in hand.
When luck and starlight must fall together, The land will belong to you forever.
But beware the unmasked Villain
And their Malevolent dark—
For nothing is more dangerous
Than a blackened good heart.
And when the tides turn
All will be as it was
The heart of the true prince
Will save his fated love.
Where sunlight beams unvarnished
Rennedawn’s magic will begin mending.
Evil will fall, kingdoms will rise.
Heed this prophecy and all of Rennedawn
Will have its happy ending.
Silence fell among the group, the only sounds the chirping of birds and the swaying of tree branches.
Blade broke it first. “Do prophecies have to rhyme? Or do the gods just have a sick sense of humor?”
“It doesn’t even follow a consistent rhyme scheme. What is this sentence structure… Good grief. Does that mean anything?” Tatianna wondered.
Evie pressed her fingers to her temples. “Starlight magic, the guvre’s youngling, the unmasked villain, and…the heart of the true prince, saving his fated love.”
All at once, everyone’s eyes fell upon Alexander.
And he was once again confused.
“The fourth piece of the prophecy,” Trystan said, looking forlorn and cold, “is Kingsley.”
Chapter 25
Evie
Evie read the prophecy aloud to the group as they gathered for their second meeting in a two-day span. She’d had nightmares about such things, but since she’d also been physically attacked and slapped with a frog in that same two-day span, a stacked meeting schedule really was the least of her problems.
At least this one came with fried dough rings.
Although they came with the risk of choking, particularly Gideon. Particularly loud.
“I’m sorry.” He coughed, crumbs expelling from his mouth, and Becky wrinkled her nose at him in distaste. “The heart of the true prince?” Gideon’s eyes fell to Kingsley, who sat in the middle of the table.
“What is confusing you, Gideon?” The Villain asked, dropping another tray of dough rings on the table.