Page 90 of Assistant to the Villain

He put a hand on her arm to steady her. “Yes. It is.”

As he gathered his maps and guided her away, Evie couldn’t help but remember why she’d sought him out in the first place. Someone had stolen a map.

And Trystan knew who it was.

Chapter 38

Evie

The carriage ride was silent.

It seemed the only thing that could stop the track of Evie’s mouth was bone-deep tiredness, and her boss looked concerned. He kept subtly glancing at her, careful not to move his head, but Evie saw it anyway.

“You’ll have to drop me off far enough from the house that Lyssa doesn’t see you, or she’ll never let you leave.” Her voice was quiet, a rarity.

She saw him nod in her peripheral vision. “But how will she get more material for her next installment ofTrystan and the Lost Princess?”

“I suppose she’ll just have to get creative.” Evie bumped her leg against his, playfully, hoping he’d bump hers back. He was still for a moment, but his thigh eventually moved toward hers, lightly tapping it.

Evie smiled and settled into the cushioned seat, staring off to her side at the passing trees, trying not to get nauseous. They were moving at a leisurely pace, the carriage rolling slowly down the dirt road, neither of them in a hurry, it seemed.

She leaned her head back but snapped up immediately when she saw something that made her heart bottom out to her feet.

Off in the distance. A lone figure walked through the trees, far away from the path. She squinted when she couldn’t make out their face, only to realize there was no way to see their face, because they were wearing a mask. The mask with King Benedict’s emblem on it.

“Oh my—” Hiking her skirts up, she stood in the carriage, ignoring her boss’s questioning look.

“Sage?”

But she didn’t answer him. Instead, she took a deep breath—and jumped out, stumbling off-kilter for a moment but then sticking the landing. And then she ran.

“Sage!”

Evie sprinted toward the figure in the woods, holding up her skirts. She heard the furious shouts from The Villain behind her and ignored them. The spy would get away—she knew they would, because the masked figure had spotted her before she even left the carriage and had started to run, too.

But she wouldn’t let them get away—shecouldn’t. She picked up her speed, kicking her heeled boots harder. Closer and closer she came to the running figure until she leaped through the air, slamming into the spy and both of them tumbling to the ground.

They rolled, each trying to get the upper hand. The masked figure took a swing and Evie dodged the small fist, wrestling the figure beneath her as her gaze locked on to her assailant’sveryfamiliar eyes.

Her lips parted when she realized who it was beneath her, quickly accompanied by horror. She could hear The Villain fast approaching behind them, but Evie reached up before he arrived, yanking the mask from the figure’s head.

She gasped and scrambled to her feet, fearful she’d empty the contents of her stomach right there.

“Becky?”

Her nemesis stared, glasses gone and brown eyes squinting up at her. “Evangelina?”

“You’re the spy?” Evie was still breathing hard from the footrace, but the shakiness in her voice was all betrayal.

When she looked up, The Villain stood there, staring at them both, looking a little lost.

“What?” Becky said, realization lighting her face as she bolted to her feet. “No! Of course not!”

Evie held up the discarded mask, and Becky pulled her glasses from her pocket, placing the large circular frames against her pert nose.

“How do you explain this?” Evie asked. “What the deadlands are you doing out here?”

Becky sighed, rubbing her elbow, which must have gotten hurt in their tumble. “That’s none of your business.”