That infuriated Evie, picturing a young and vulnerable Trystan looking for scraps of praise because he was so unused to it.
“The first few weeks were…incredible. My mother and father were hesitant to let me go, but I wouldn’t be deterred. I had become obsessed with pleasing the king, with making him happy. I did everything he asked of me. Everything.”
Evie found herself overcome by his words, as she knew that feeling well. Being desperate to make others happy, to feel like she’d earned her place in the world by the standards of another.
They looked at each other, and Evie realized the comfort she found in every part of his face. The crinkles in the corners of his eyes; those rare times he smiled; his subtly expressive mouth, which drew her attention far too often.
And as what he was saying truly sank in, she realized what exactly he meant by everything. “The guvre?”
He nodded, his hair finally dry after the rain, curling against his forehead. Sighing, he said, “I helped him capture the guvre. There were theories that the venom of a baby guvre acted as a sort of cure-all. He kept telling me the end justified the means. I didn’t know what he meant then, and I never had the chance to find out.” Evie stood, her skirts tangling around her ankles as she paced away from the couch. “Why? What happened next?”
The Villain was very still for a moment before saying, “Would you mind sitting…for the next part?” He remained rigid, but there was a vulnerability there that knocked Evie silent. She walked back over and slowly sank beside him, and he exhaled hard.
“The king had me working with a magical specialist in the month that I was with him, and with each session the specialist grew more and more timid. I tried my best to make him comfortable in my presence, but something was unsettling him, and after another odd session, I finally had enough.”
Evie’s hands formed into fists. “What happened?”
“I asked the king—demanded, really—to know why every servant in his summer home seemed to cringe away from me, why the Valiant Guards walked in the other direction when they saw me coming down the hall. What I had done wrong.”
“And?” she pressed.
“He told me that my magic was dangerous.” He stood then, startling Evie, and he walked over to the fire, stirring it with the poker. “I had spent weeks and weeks with the man; he’d built me up so high I felt like nothing could touch me. When he told me that whatever was dormant inside me could hurt people, it shattered me.”
“But your magic hadn’t awoken yet—why would King Benedict do that?” Evie asked, starting to see the tangles of the story unwinding.
“He claimed he brought me there to see if the problem could be managed before it was too late. But after observing me carefully, there was no hope. The king told me that if he allowed me to go free, I would be a danger to myself and everyone I loved.”No. Her heart broke for that defeated young man only looking to belong.
“He told me his priority had to be the rest of the kingdom and it wasn’t personal. It was for my own good.”
“What was?” Evie asked carefully.
“The Valiant Guards taking me into custody then and there.” The Villain had a steel to his voice as he turned back toward her. “I begged the king, I told him I would try to be better, but he wouldn’t listen. They took me to the cellars below and locked me in the dark. There were no windows, no torches. I was trapped with the darkness, and it was trapped with me.”
Evie was gripping her dress tightly in her hands. “How long— How long did they keep you down there?”
“A month.”
A month. A month of darkness with no hope for its end, with no way out. “It took them a month to let you out?”
“They didn’t.” His lips lifted a little. “I let myself out.”
Chapter 57
The Villain
Sage had an unfamiliar look on her face. It wasn’t pity, nor was it horror, but whatever it was, it made him feel good, which was unbelievable, considering he was reliving his worst nightmare. Trystan walked back toward her and took his seat once more on the sofa.
“You escaped?” she said incredulously. She shook her head back and forth, and the silky strands of her hair brushed against his arm, making him shiver.
“The king didn’t anticipate that his efforts to protect the public would unleash me upon them.” He smiled then, a real one, and Sage did, too. “One day, the guards grew particularly sick of me. I’d spent an embarrassing amount of time begging to be released, and I think they’d had enough.”