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.
He looked at her, sensing the question in her eyes anyway. “My magic is very distinct, which makes it easier to detect. The specialist then referred me to someone he thought could ‘foster’ my abilities to their fullest potential.”
Another silence followed, and Evie knew he was gathering himself to tell her the worst of it, the reason he dragged men through the office by their hair, the reason she was greeted by severed heads so often on her way to work, the reason he looked uncomfortable at any sign of affection.
The reason her boss had become The Villain.
“The king met with me the next day.” Evie couldn’t see his power, but she could feel the air in the room change as it thrummed underneath his skin.
“He offered me a position with him at his summer home, as his personal apprentice.” Trystan sighed, pressing his eyes closed once more, scratching at the stubble around his jaw. “I agreed so quickly, too quickly. But the king knew exactly what words to say—his words were like webs, and by the time I realized I’d been caught, it was too late. He told me I had potential, that I was capable of great things.”
There was a sheen to Trystan’s dark eyes as he stared at the crackle in the fireplace. “No one had ever said that to me before.” He chuckled. “And no one has since.”