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Assistant to the Villain (Assistant to the Villain, #1)(91)

Author:Hannah Nicole Maehrer

Evie’s eyes widened, both delighted and a little flabbergasted at what this development meant. “Does that mean…you knew The Villain—I mean Trystan—” She didn’t know why, but she’d never once thought of her boss as anything other than being born fully grown.

“Yes. I knew Trystan since we were very young.” Tatianna shifted, looking uncharacteristically uncomfortable in her own skin. Like she was unsure of herself. “It’s not really something I should be talking about with you.”

Sighing and dragging a chair closer to sit right across from the healer, Evie said, “How many of my secrets do you know?”

“You get hurt a lot, so…many,” she said apprehensively.

“So,” Evie pressed. “Don’t you think you owe me at least one? Friend?” She said the last word with wounded innocence in her eyes.

Tatianna groaned again and put her head in her hands. “You are a conniving little manipulator.” She pulled her head up, looking at Evie with a disbelieving smile. “You’ve been here too long.”

“Oh please, we’re just getting to the good part.” Evie grinned, leaning forward, and gestured for Tatianna to continue.

“What do you want to know?” A wicked look crossed the healer’s face, followed by a quirk of her brow. “Why do you want to know?”

The quickening beat of Evie’s heart was certainly just because it made her uncomfortable to be scrutinized so directly.

“Who wouldn’t?” Evie rationalized. “It’s hard to picture that man as anything but that…uh…man.” Why is it suddenly so hot in here? She stood up and walked toward the windows, pushing one out until fresh, cool air brushed against her warm cheeks. “I mean, was he always so…” She weighed her words before turning back toward Tatianna, who finished for her.

“Brooding? Grumpy? Terrible at feeling and exhibiting normal human emotions?”

“Yes.” Evie nodded.

“To which?” Tatianna asked, a confused look passing over her face.

“Yes,” Evie repeated flatly.

Standing up from her chair, Tatianna walked toward the door of the quarters. “If you must know anything, know he was hard to read even then. He always kept to himself, always doing his best to keep any attention off him.”

Evie stared, absorbing every word like precious nutrients, as the healer continued. “He had a quiet kindness to him, though.” Tatianna smiled then. “He never was around much when I would come to be with Clare. He was a few years older, so I always thought it was because he didn’t want two annoying little girls bothering him.”

“But?” Evie asked, sensing the word before it was spoken.

“But on my tenth birthday, my mother had a party for me. My healing magic had shown up a year before, when I’d nearly been crushed by a passing carriage. Everyone was thrilled; they thought I could be a core healer.”

Evie couldn’t believe the absurdity because, from her meager understanding, core healers were so rare, they were practically myth. It was normal for magic to be ignited in someone by something painful, but very rare for that person to have healer’s magic—much less core magic. But that was what core healers were. They could heal minds, bodies; some said they could heal your very soul to your core.

A myth, she thought.

Tatianna continued. “Clare and Malcolm were my dearest friends, but it suddenly felt like I was a toy everyone wanted to play with.

“My mother had made my party an open invitation, so hundreds of people were there to witness my magic being born. It was terrible. I was dragged around by my arm throughout the entire party, people asking me to heal cuts, bruises, even dire sicknesses. I hadn’t seen a specialist yet, so I had no idea, really, what I was doing or the cost. I was only ten.” There was a moment in her words where Tatianna began to look like the little girl from her story, lost and overwhelmed.

“That’s terrible, Tati.” Evie wanted to hug her friend, but she continued her story like Evie’s words hadn’t registered.

“It was this birthday that showed me that no matter what I accomplished in life from that day on, I would always be defined by this one, singular ability. Nobody would ever see me. When the party ended, I wanted to cry. I didn’t even get a piece of my own cake. But Clare and Malcolm stayed behind to celebrate with just me, for me.” The sadness on the healer’s face slowly shifted into mirth as one corner of her mouth tilted up. “We had fun, but they couldn’t dispel the heaviness in my heart no matter how hard they tried.”

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