She looked at Evie then, her remarkable brown eyes glittering with a grace so humbling, Evie could only stare in awe.
“And then Trystan arrived.”
This snapped Evie from her near worship. “He came? To your birthday?”
“I was as surprised as you.” The healer shook her head and rubbed her arm. “He hadn’t attended any of my other birthdays. But he came immediately after everyone left. He baked a cake.”
“He baked?”
“I know. But he was always fond of it. Edwin used to teach him how.” Tatianna chuckled.
“Our Edwin?” Evie didn’t realize the ogre’s history with The Villain went back that far.
“He was our village’s Edwin first—ran the bakery. Was usually who Trystan spent most of his time with—he didn’t like being around the rest of the family.” Tatianna shook her head. “I understand why he keeps him here. Edwin was the only one who—” Clearing her throat, Tatianna dropped the words like she’d never said them and continued her tenth birthday story.
“Anyway, Trystan stayed the whole time. He even sang when we lit the birthday candles. Very off-key, I might add.”
“I would sell my soul to see that,” Evie said with a deadpan expression.
The healer laughed. “He told me that ‘the opinions of others are ever-changing.’ And to ‘never care quite so much of the world’s perception of you.’”
Tatianna stood there, looking the same as she always did. Beautiful and emboldened, but now she had a subtle glow to her that wasn’t there moments before. “He never brought it up again. It was one of the kindest and most thoughtful things anyone had ever done for me, but the next day, he was back to his quiet gruffness. Like it never happened. Like he didn’t want to be acknowledged for an act of true goodness.”
That hadn’t changed much, Evie supposed. She knew her boss repelled praise like it was claws against the skin.
“What happened after that?”
Tatianna beamed, her arms going wide, and warmth spread in Evie’s chest. “I decided after that birthday that if someone was going to pick one thing about me to notice, I would get to choose what it would be.”
Slow realization dawned as Evie looked up with wide eyes, noting the bright pink ribbon around Tatianna’s wrist. “The pink.”
She nodded, gesturing to the worn cloth. “I bought my first pink bow the next day, and it’s been my comfort ever since.”
“Well, it looks wonderful on you, so that worked out rather nicely,” Evie said before asking hesitantly, “and what happened with Clare?”
Tatianna’s eyes shuttered. “All I will say is, Clare never forgave Trystan for the events that turned him into The Villain, and I did. It wasn’t a problem in the beginning, but it became one, and then it was over.”
“I’m sorry,” Evie said gently.
The healer patted her on the shoulder and smiled tightly. “Let me get to work, my friend. We can’t keep The Villain waiting.”
Chapter 37
Evie
“One of the maps is missing from the cartography closet.” Evie’s boss didn’t even bother to look up from his own maps strewn haphazardly across the table in the small alcove at the end of the hall.
“Could it be because I am holding a few of them?” he asked dryly, still not looking up.
Rude.
“No, smartass. It’s one of the maps that details the Valiant Guards’ regular routes into the city. It’s not there—someone took it.” When she’d seen her boss coming out with a handful of maps that morning, an idea sparked. The Villain was getting hit through his shipments, so if any of the maps weren’t accounted for…
And they weren’t. Evie had spent her entire morning scouring the closet, checking each one off as she went until one box was left unchecked.
He finally looked up, brow furrowed. “I don’t understand. You need a key to get into that closet, and the only people who have one are you and me.”
Evie placed her hands on her hips and glared. “What are you implying?”
“Be calm, little tornado—it wasn’t an accusation. Just an observation.” His use of the nickname made her raised shoulders relax. “I have my key here. Where is yours?”
Evie pulled it from the pocket of her skirts and held it up, twirling it between her fingers. “And the lock wasn’t broken. Could it have been picked?”
The Villain shook his head, standing up from the chair he’d been sitting in. “That lock is unpickable—it’s warded with magic. I—” He paused, his face going white.