Page 117 of Assistant to the Villain

Evie nodded, unsure what to say, which in and of itself was cause for concern. Words rarely failed her; it was the ones that came out that usually did it.

“Got it!” Tatianna walked over, looking between them like she knew she was a welcome interruption. “Here you are. Let me know how the poor man likes it—I can always switch back to the other mixture.”

Evie pushed up on her toes and kissed the healer’s cheek. “Thank you, my friend.” She turned to smile at Clare. “And thank you, too.”

The Villain’s sister eyed the vial in her hand with a sympathetic expression. “Your father has the Mystic Illness?”

Evie nodded and placed the medicine in the pocket of her skirt before moving over to the table to pick up her cloak. The last few hours had been such a blurry mixture of pain and relief, she couldn’t begin to recall how it had made it in here from the hook beside her desk.

“Evangelina, before you go!” Clare called, and Evie turned to meet her eyes. “I’m making another batch of different inks this afternoon. Would you like some?”

Evie shrugged, grinning lightly. “Why not? I’m sure I can find a use for a blue.”

“Great!” Clare called. “I was making another order for East Marigold, anyway.”

She froze, her blood chilling.Tatianna snorted. “Great name. Is your customer a flower?”

Evie’s smile didn’t fall from her face somehow as she turned and left the room, a renewed sense of purpose in her steps and more than one vial in her pocket.

Of all the fancy bottles on the shelves near the door…Yes, Evie had good use for this one.

Chapter 52

Evie

It was late by the time Evie finally made it home that night. The light in Lyssa’s room was already out, but when she entered the kitchen, there was her father, standing over a pot, murmuring to himself. The pungent smell of two spices that were clearly never meant to be mixed filled the air.

She tried to keep her heart calm, her breathing even, tried to act normally. Swallowing a lump in her throat, she forced a smile to her face.

“Good evening, Papa. What are you making?” Evie asked.

“Why is this so difficult?” her father replied quietly instead, sounding pinched and frustrated. Evie knew he meant well, and she felt a painful jab in her gut from the guilt of having missed dinner, missed putting Lyssa to bed. She pulled the vial from Tatianna out of her pocket and handed it to her father, hoping he didn’t see the shaking of her hands.

“Please at least try this potion, Father,” Evie said. “My healer friend said this is a new type of pain tonic and it’s been seen to be very effective.”

He placed a large hand on Evie’s cheek. “You always take care of me.” The pang in her chest turned into a crater. “So like your mother.”

Excellent. Right now, when she was on the brink of a mental break, it was certainly refreshing to also be reminded of her worst fear.

“Right,” Evie said in a hard voice. “Except I’m stillhere.”

Her father dropped his hand from her cheek, and there was a sudden chill to the room. “Yes.” He coughed. “Of course.” Looking like he needed something to do with his hands, her father uncapped the vial and downed it in one gulp. In that, at least, Evie felt some relief.

“Lyssa’s in bed early tonight,” Evie observed, not mentioning that she was happy to not have to worry about her sister in this moment.

“She wore herself out with the neighbor girls. How was work today?” They both sat at the table, Evie pressing her palms gently into the familiar wood before folding them nervously in front of her.

“It was…productive,” she said, not having a better word.

“As all work should be.” Her father smiled at her. “It’s good you keep busy. Idle hands lead to nothing but trouble.” She knew he was thinking about her mother again by the way his other hand reached for the medallion at his neck.

“Papa… Did you know what a hard time Mama was having with her magic, all those years ago? Did you understand how she struggled? Or was it all a shock in the end?” she asked, unsure of why she needed to know the answer. Why it mattered.

He looked caught off guard by the question, but to his credit, he answered her, and she was sure it was the truth. “I knew when it was too late.”

Leaving him to his “cooking,” Evie moved toward her bedroom. She checked in on Lyssa, who was sleeping peacefully in her bed. Then, passing by her father’s office, she saw light spilling out from under the door. Had he abandoned his culinary disaster already?

When she pushed the door entirely open, though, the room was empty.