Assistant to the Villain (Assistant to the Villain, #1) (110)

“The healer was paid to tell you and the rest of the village that I had the illness so I could have an alibi.” He tucked his hands behind his back, and Evie took a step away. “The butcher’s shop was supposed to be a front, but it was beginning to interfere with my real profession.”

“And what is that?” Evie’s voice was a strangled whisper.

Griffin backed farther away from her until he was behind his desk. He reached to a compartment underneath and pulled a false board out of place. When he stood back up, he was holding a helmet. A knight’s helmet.

One that gleamed of silver.

“Is that—”

“I was, and still am, one of King Benedict’s Valiant Guard.” He said it proudly, holding the helmet like it was the most precious possession in the world. In his world.

“How could you?” There was a crack in her voice as she spoke, looking at her father through a blur of unshed tears. “You made Lyssa and me think you were suffering. Put the entire financial burden of our household on my back.”

“We never suffered for money. I had plenty.” Her father showed no remorse.

“That you kept for yourself!” Evie felt the tears spill hot down her cheeks, the pain cracking her chest open as the words spilled out. “Why would you do that? Why would you try and offer me to Otto Warsen? Just why?”

“My particular brand of work for King Benedict has always been secretive, covert. It was why I had to lie about my retirement. No one could know I was a Valiant Guard. I needed to remain anonymous in the world but still be able to disappear when I needed to. Something that could confine me for long periods of time, about which no one would grow suspicious. When I saw one of our neighbors catch the illness, I was inspired.”

“You’re disgusting,” Evie snapped.

Her father’s head whipped up, and he stared at her. “Watch your tongue.”

“No.”

Griffin’s eyes widened at the darkness in her voice before narrowing. “You should be begging my forgiveness. Otto Warsen wanted to marry you, and you denied him.”

Evie let out a dry, humorless laugh. “I don’t suppose you ever thought to ask what I wanted?”

“I think you’ve well proven that you are not fit to make those sorts of choices for yourself.” Her father sneered. “Just like your mother.”

“What did you do to her?” So many lies—too many. It was like sifting through sand, trying to find one grain of truth.

“When her power came, she was meant to work for the king. She ruined that all on her own.” He looked Evie up and down. “And now you’re ruined right along with her.”

“You’re not telling me something.” The crackle of the fire drew her eye as she watched an ember spark off and land on the ground before fizzling into nothing.

The helmet clanked as her father placed it carefully on the desk. “You were meant to marry Otto so I could have one less child to worry about. Eventually you would all be off my hands and I could retire, after I told everyone I was miraculously cured.”

“There is no cure.” She exhaled.

Her father paused and smiled. “Not yet.”

“And The Villain?” Evie said, his name renewing her horror that all the destruction done was because of her. It had been her father, but Evie had led him right to her boss’s quarters. “When did you find out I was working for him?” Evie had been so incredibly careful, even more so at the beginning.

“I didn’t at first. I was working on something else for the king, a project of sorts.” He turned to grip the fireplace mantel, his face illuminated by the dancing flames. “But when Lyssa was at school and you were there, King Benedict had a letter delivered, detailing an incident observed by some of his other guards. Of a young girl traipsing through the forest with The Villain before they disappeared. A girl they identified as my older daughter.”

His disappointment was unfounded, but it was palpable, impossible to ignore.

“I began reporting to the king that very day, and you became the key to The Villain’s downfall.”

Evie felt sick.

“No.” She was cracking like a vase that was about to be thrown away.

“Yes.” The memories of her father’s gentle smiles would be tarnished forever by the one pulling at his mouth now, what it meant. “And now you will help me get the mated guvres back for the king.”

“What does he need them for?” Evie narrowed her eyes, noting her father’s face growing pale, a sheen of sweat building on his forehead.

“The greater good.”

With a small smile of resolve, Evie dug deep inside herself with the last of her strength. “I don’t want to be good.” The last word was spoken with a malevolence Evie hadn’t been certain she possessed. But hearing it now—it felt pleasant.

More, it felt right.

Griffin Sage limped toward her, gripping her shoulders, painful, bruising. But Evie didn’t move—she just stayed there, staring at a man she’d once trusted, believed in. Who she always thought believed in her. She wondered if she’d ever adjust to this new reality. One in which the man who’d told her stories of made-up heroes named East Marigold, who’d checked under her bed for monsters, threw her love and loyalty away like garbage.