Accomplice to the Villain (Assistant and the Villain, #3)(50)

Oh gods. Blade’s smile faded into something hard, anger burning beneath his skin, rising to prickle at his neck and stifle his breath.

Rebecka looked at him, panicked and wary. “The person who’s behind this…”

Roland finished her sentence. “Is closer than we thought.”





Chapter 32


The Villain


“The traitor again?” Tatianna hissed, slapping Trystan on the arm. “Damn it.”

“Why am I being struck,” Trystan grumbled, rubbing his arm. The office had emptied out for the day, night had fallen, and the only employees remaining were the guards who lived on the grounds and the rest of their motley crew. All the usual suspects.

Tatianna, Blade, Ms. Erring, Edwin, Sage, Clarissa, Keeley, and Kingsley, with the new addition of Rebecka’s brother Roland, who was taking in his surroundings like one inhaled secondhand smoke.

He hated that he was spending time so regularly with these people that it had become regular, but he didn’t have much of a choice. After they returned, they’d all convened in the kitchen. Edwin had placed chalices of cauldron brew in front of everyone with a forlorn look on his blue face, his purple eyes not holding their usual spark.

Guilt ate at Trystan.

Edwin dropped a tray of cookies on the table, and Sage patted the ogre’s large arm gently. “Edwin, why don’t you sit down?”

Trystan stood immediately without pause and without fuss. “Here, Edwin. I need more cauldron brew.” The brew in his chalice was thick and entirely without cream, but Trystan drained every drop, miraculously not wincing. But as soon as Edwin sat, the chair creaked, and Trystan turned away, his mouth twisted in a wince.

Gods, that is bitter.

No one had seen him lose his composure but Sage, who was watching him, eyes glowing with amusement.

Gods, that was sweet.

He took the ladle from the cauldron and filled, then drained another glass, leaning into the burn down his throat.

Tatianna’s hands glowed golden as she moved them about Edwin’s head, checking on his injury. “Poor dear. Did you take that tonic I gave you?”

Edwin nodded, staring down at his hands. “I can’t help but feel like the attack was my fault.”

“It’s not,” Rebecka objected. “You mustn’t keep dwelling, Edwin. It could’ve happened to any one of us.”

Edwin shook his head, taking off his glasses and rubbing them against his linen shirt. “The kitchen is my domain. What if little Lyssa had been with me? What would the knave have done to the poor thing?” Edwin’s blue cheeks turned a deep shade of violet, and tears sprang from his eyes.

“It’s my fault,” Trystan said, and every gaze in the room was on him. “There is no one to blame for this matter but me. I thought the thorny grove would be enough to keep the king’s men at bay. I was a fool.”

Kingsley leaped on the table, sign in hand that read, No.

“So, you think whoever snuck the notes to Lyssa was the same person who let in the intruder?” Tatianna asked.

Trystan pinched the bridge of his nose, nodding.

Clare cut in. “Evie, do you still have the notes?”

Sage looked up from her hands. “I do. I tried matching them to different résumés we have filed with very little luck. The writing isn’t like any I’ve seen.”

Clare leaned her head side to side, appearing to weigh her next words—a trait quite out of character for his little sister. Her normal mode was to speak as sharply and quickly as possible. “May I see them? Perhaps the ink they used could be traceable.”

Evie’s eyes lightened, and she leaped up, grabbing Clare by the hands. His sister looked alarmed at the sudden display of excitement, no doubt feeling the full effect of the force that was Sage’s joy. “Oh, Clare, that’s a wonderful idea! I’ll go grab them now from our rooms.” Sage turned to go but ran straight into Gideon Sage, who was standing in the doorway, looking around the room like a hen that had walked in on a pack of coyotes.

“Well, this looks like jolly good fun. Planning a funeral?”

“It will be yours if you don’t shut your mouth, sir knight,” Keeley bit out, glaring at Gideon.

Gideon smirked at her. “Ah, so you are feeling better, Captain. Good thing—your complacency was making me uneasy.”

Keeley’s nose twitched, and there was something familiar about it, something that resonated in Trystan’s mind. But he forgot immediately when Keeley gave Gideon a sneer before asking Trystan, “How do we know the traitor wasn’t him?”

That familiar flush of anger deepened the color on Sage’s cheeks and chest. But “Careful, Keeley” was all she said.

“He’s the one person who came here from behind enemy lines,” Keeley argued, not heeding the warning. Foolish, in Trystan’s opinion. The look on Sage’s face would send a weaker person to their knees. “Forgive me, Ms. Sage, but I think we would be remiss to not at least consider him a suspect.”

Sage moved toward Keeley, and Gideon was between the women in two strides. “Smart, Captain, covering all your bases. Absolutely add me to the suspect list.” Gideon folded his hands in front of him, looking nearly scholarly in his deliberation. “What am I suspected of having done, exactly?”