Assistant to the Villain (Assistant to the Villain, #1) (49)

“What—?”

But Trystan never finished his sentence, because Blade’s words were tumbling out so quick, several veins in the man’s forehead began to pop.

“It was me, sir! The employment offer from King Benedict—it was mine.”

Trystan froze, idly wondering how his heart could be pounding in his chest when his blood had turned to ice.

“Explain,” he bit out, the word so clipped and cold, he watched Blade shiver.

Gushiken stepped forward, pushing his shoulders back, clearly trying to summon bravery. His story spilled out in waves, and Trystan didn’t speak until he knew the dragon trainer had finished.

Blade spoke of his childhood in the kingdom’s capital, his father’s political career on Rennedawn’s council, Blade’s affinity for animals and magical creatures. How he’d only kept the letter to remind himself that he’d made the right choice coming here.

Trystan’s body went taut when Blade’s story pulled in Evie. While Blade spoke, Trystan kept his face impassive, but his mind was racing, adrenaline pumping through him.

“She kept the letter to make sure I fessed up. She gave me the chance to tell you myself because she is kind and a good friend. But make no mistake, sir; she is completely loyal to you. This whole thing is all my fault. If you want to fire me or, you know…murder me? I completely understand.”

I wanted to give…someone else the chance to tell you first.

Sage’s voice cut through the pounding blackness that was feeding into The Villain’s mind, like a rainbow slicing through the endings of a vicious storm.

I should say thank you. For proving even promised trust can be broken.

Sage had stumbled backward like he’d struck her—because he had. But The Villain had been too stubborn, too triggered by his past betrayals to see anything but his own hurt.

Trystan had called her a hypocrite when it was becoming glaringly obvious the only person guilty of hypocrisy was himself.

She had wanted him to have enough faith in her, to trust her, and instead he’d punished her. Trystan held Blade’s gaze. “You should not have kept this from me, Gushiken.”

Blade nodded, ducking his head. “If I had known the trouble it would cause, believe me, I wouldn’t have.”

“Believe you?” Something dark was creeping into Trystan’s voice as he begrudgingly realized what it felt like to be wrong. It felt horrible. “I don’t know what to believe right now. But believe this: if you ever find yourself lying to me again or implicating another employee because of your carelessness, you will find your head adorning my rafters.”

Blade looked queasy, and Trystan resisted the urge to chuck the man through the window.

Gushiken waved both hands in front of his face. “No, no! I promise to never keep a secret from you again, sir! I will head to the healer now to have a magical oath burned into my flesh, in fact.” And with that, Blade turned to take off toward Tatianna’s quarters. As he pulled the door open, he sheepishly glanced back at The Villain, something vulnerable in the man’s expression.

“Um, sir…does this mean I can keep my job? That the dragon and I can remain?”

It wasn’t mercy, what Trystan said next, but it was alarmingly close to it. “Yes. Against my better judgment, you may remain.”

“Thank you, sir!” Blade said, his voice far away as Trystan had already moved toward a stained glass window, unlatching the glass and pushing it open to let the summer air waft over him.

The sunlight hit his face, but he felt no warmth, like Sage had dragged even the power of the sun away with her.

He hadn’t realized the dragon trainer was still standing in his office until Trystan heard him ask a question so small and quiet, he nearly missed it.

“Sir…what about Evie?”

When Trystan remained silent, he heard Blade’s footsteps fade away until they were gone completely.

But the dragon trainer’s question echoed through his mind so many times, Trystan wanted to scratch it out.

What about Evie?





Chapter 21


Evie


Evie always knew she’d die at the hands of her own foolishness. She’d landed herself in far too many dangerous situations, unintentionally, for the odds to not fall against her at some point in time.

She’d straddled her boss and then quit her job, all in one day.

Groaning into her hands, she rolled over in her bed, ignoring Lyssa when she hesitantly nudged the door open.

“I have to go to school.” She lightly placed something on the small table beside Evie’s bed. “I made you some tea that always helps Papa…when he’s feeling sick.”

Flipping over immediately to face her sister, Evie rushed to assure her she was not unwell, desperate to get rid of the forlorn look in her sister’s expression. “It’s okay, Lyssa, I promise I’m not sick the way Papa is.”

Her sister’s shoulders relaxed. “What kind of sickness is it, then? You never miss work.”

Evie tapped her chest with her palm, feeling the lump in her throat moving to sit underneath her hand. “It’s a sick feeling here. In my heart.” It was difficult to decipher her feelings on her own, let alone attempt to explain them to a ten-year-old.

“Oh, you’re sad,” her sister said, nodding.