Accomplice to the Villain (Assistant and the Villain, #3)(54)
Everything still fell to her. She was still the glue that held their fragile relationships together—and she was so tired of it.
And then her mother spoke. “Talk to me, Evie. Let us be truthful. You are a young woman now and should speak your mind accordingly.” Her mother was attempting kindness, tossing Evie a life raft, though it was far too late.
She’d needed that life raft ten years ago. “I am fearful that if I say what I’d like to say, you will not take it well.”
Nura frowned. “You are my daughter. I am your mother. It’s not your responsibility to make things more palatable for me. I am a grown woman, too, and I can handle whatever it is you have to say.”
Evie stumbled backward like her mother had struck her, tears burning her eyes, her mouth pulled into a frown. “No. You can’t.” The tears fell, but she wasn’t sad; she was so frustrated she wanted to scream at the top of her lungs. “You never could. I had to tiptoe my way through childhood for fear of upsetting you, and now I try to move through the world without making a sound.” She was speaking in metaphors, of course. Evie made plenty of sounds, all of them loud.
Nura licked her lips, trying to keep the serene look on her face. “I didn’t realize you felt that way. That you’d felt the need to hide things from me.”
“Because I made sure you didn’t know,” Evie said, swiping angrily at the tears running down her cheeks in an endless flow. “I made sure that I was always pleasant because I couldn’t bear to add to your burdens or to Papa’s. Do you know how silly that makes me feel now? How awful it is to sacrifice integral pieces of myself for others and they don’t even care enough to notice?”
Nura’s hand flew to her mouth, and a choked gasp came from behind it. “Evie, sweetheart.” Her mother’s tears fell now, too, her skin beginning to glow the white silver of her starlight magic. She took a calming breath. “Yes, of course I know how that feels. I’ve done it, too. I used to do it all the time,” she added. “When I thought I had killed my child.” Her skin glowed brighter. “I couldn’t be around you or Lyssa. When I finally grasped what I’d done, I thought you would be better in your father’s care.”
The pain on her mother’s face was now brightened by hatred. “I can’t express what a horrific mistake I made with that assumption. When I realized that the king was after me and my magic, I thought it best to stay on the run and keep you girls safe.”
“But you left those clues behind for me?” Evie’s hands were shaking at her sides. She tried to settle them as she moved around her mother and sat on the large four-poster bed. “Why, if you really believed that?”
Nura sat next to her, keeping a comfortable distance between them. A habit of hers, Evie thought. “I missed you so terribly. Your innocent questions, your quick mind, your big imagination.” She looked Evie right in the eye. “Your sweet smile. I thought that you might one day come to forgive me, and if you did ever come looking, I wanted you and only you to be able to find me. So, I left clues I knew only you would understand.”
Evie brought her hands up to rub her eyes—they were dry, now, and tired. She slouched as if she’d just dropped a large weight. “I am happy that Lyssa has been giving you a chance. That you’re showing her blue butterflies and trying to start anew with her. I’m happy you’re healing from every person who betrayed you. My father, the king, Renna. But—” She crossed both hands over her chest, attempting to protect herself. “I’m so angry sometimes, I look at you and I want to break things. I’m so angry you left. I know you’ve suffered, and I’m sorry for that, but I am your daughter, and I suffered, too.”
Nura’s glow was now so bright it hurt to look at her. “Of course. I understand.”
Evie was firm. “No. You don’t.” She reached for her mother’s hand, ignoring the stinging burn of the starlight. “My girlhood was stolen from me.” She couldn’t believe she was admitting this, that she was brave enough to look her mother in the eyes and say, “And though you were not the thief, you did not do anything to stop it from happening. So…I need time.” She stood on shaky legs, grabbing Lyssa’s notes and striding toward the door.
“Evie, wait. I understand what you’re saying, but please, let’s not leave it like this.”
Her dagger tingled against her leg, and her shoulder glowed that rainbow-like blend of colors. The blade was in her hand as she turned, catching her mother’s flying magic against the steel, reflecting the beam away harmlessly. Nura looked horrified, her hands going to her mouth at the accident.
But Evie’s false smile was gone, replaced with a sad shake of her head and a grimace. “The specialist will be here soon. She can assist you with that. We can revisit this another time.”
She closed the door behind her and immediately slammed into a solid chest, large hands coming up around her arms to steady her. There was no need for her to look. She knew exactly who it was.
And before she could blink, her boss was tugging her into a dark linen closet.
Chapter 35
Evie
The Villain flicked a switch, and the room was illuminated.
Even in the dim light, he homed in on her face, which was surely puffy and streaked with tears. “What’s happened? My gold ink led me to believe you were in some sort of danger.” Ah, the link between them. He couldn’t help but worry for her; it was a bond between them that forced him to answer every moment of her distress. It wasn’t a choice. She wasn’t his choice.