Assistant to the Villain (Assistant to the Villain, #1) (113)

Another swig.

“Er,” he interrupted. “Should I take that—”

“Would you like some?” A bit of the sadness was sweeping off her face, and her eyes even looked brighter…but he should still probably try to—

“Evie!” he said, bewildered as she appeared to have downed half the bottle.

She stopped, frozen in shock or disbelief, at his use of her name.

“Sage.” Trystan cleared his throat uncomfortably, loosening his collar, trying to get more air into his body. “I realize this situation has been…stressful.”

She looked up at him like he had three heads, and why wouldn’t she? He’d just referred to her knocking out her father and his betrayal like a heavy paperwork day, or perhaps how Trystan felt after a bad haircut.

“More than stressful,” he rushed out. “What you’re experiencing must be devastating and confusing and…” Gods, he was horrible at being comforting, and she knew it, too, sensed that fundamental weakness in him.

But she smiled, and he thought, I can’t be that bad, then.

But then the smile disappeared, and a pinched look of accusation fell upon her face. “I asked him, but he wouldn’t tell me. Do you know?”

“Know what?” he asked, feeling in that moment that he’d give her anything, confess to anything, if only it would put that smile back on her face.

“What the king wants with the mated guvres?”

Fuck.





Chapter 56


Evie


They both sat down on the worn sofa, Evie fidgeting with her hands, squeezing then releasing, squeezing then releasing.

Silence permeated the air, the only noise the creaking of the old foundation.

She wasn’t sure why her heart was beating so fast, but she felt like something big was going to happen.

Her boss looked like he was in great pain, the pinched look of his mouth making her chest hurt. He crossed his arms, then uncrossed them, finally settling them on his thighs. Evie wouldn’t mind having her hands there as well.

Focus, you absolute nincompoop.

But instead of speaking, he froze, turning in a flash and grabbing something over Evie’s shoulder. She gasped at the nearness of him, the heat and scent of him, but his body left hers quickly, returning to his side of the couch with something in his hand.

“Kingsley?” She had no idea the little frog had come, too.

The animal’s only response was to ribbit as he looked to both of them with a blank expression.

“Little stowaway,” The Villain growled. “He must have slipped into my saddlebag when I wasn’t looking. You could’ve gotten yourself killed, you fool.”

Evie leaned over and straightened the crown that by some miracle never seemed to leave the frog’s head. “He was worried about us, you little darling.” She fawned over Kingsley, and her boss’s eye twitched.

The Villain placed the frog on the small table before saying, “Stay put, for once.” Kingsley didn’t seem to have his signs with him, because all he did was nod. Her boss turned back toward her with an expression of dread as he started speaking.

“I found out about the guvres when I became an intern for King Benedict, almost ten years ago to the day.”

Evie was knocked speechless. She literally couldn’t think of a single thing to say, something that hadn’t happened to her in— Well, that hadn’t happened to her ever. He looked at her, but she kept her gaze forward.

Should she be angry he hadn’t told her this sooner? She didn’t feel angry, but she’d already been through a lot that day, so maybe her brain had shut down her emotions out of self-preservation.

It didn’t feel like something he’d kept from her on purpose, but it was obviously painful for him. Speaking even that first sentence looked like he’d just pulled metal spikes out of his mouth.

“If you don’t want to—” Evie started. She didn’t want this from him if he felt he had to. But he held up his hand to stop her.

“I just… I haven’t spoken of it aloud since it happened, but if there was anyone I would share this with, it would be you.”

“Okay,” Evie said kindly, placing a careful hand on his shoulder. “But only tell me if you want to. I don’t want you to feel like I’m holding you down with a knife to your throat.” She was going for sympathetic, but then the words were out in the open and Evie realized too late how explicit they sounded.

His dark brows furrowed together, and his lips squeezed tight.

“I meant because— I meant I wasn’t going to pin you down— You know what?” She fake-locked the corner of her mouth with an imaginary key and opened her boss’s hand, placing the key inside his palm.

His hand nearly curled around her fingers, their eyes whipping up to each other’s, but then they quickly returned to their original positions on the sofa.

“I met King Benedict when I was nineteen years old.” His jaw tightened, and he pressed his fingers into the couch. “I had been considering attending the university near the city, and on one of my visits I caught the attention of a magical specialist. My magic hadn’t awoken yet, but he sensed something in me.”

Evie wanted to ask how a specialist could sense magic that hadn’t awakened yet, but she kept her mouth shut, knowing she needed to allow him to finish.