Page 129 of Apprentice to the Villain

And what they saw on the other side— Blade gripped her arm to keep himself from falling over. “How quickly do you think we could get a portrait artist in here?” he asked.

No artist could ever do the scene justice; there was simply too much to capture.

Standing in the doorway of Evie and Lyssa’s chambers was The Villain, face reddened with anger. The color was a contrast to the large pink hat that sat atop his head, feathers coming out ofit from every direction. He looked like a deranged pink chicken. Kingsley sat upon his shoulder, crown still perched on his small green brow, but it was now paired with a tiny handkerchief fastened into a dress.

Evie bit her lip so hard she tasted blood. “That’s, uh…a good look for you, sir,” she said, sounding strangled, stepping forward and reaching up to pluck a fallen feather from his shoulder.

He gave her a warning glance as he loomed over her, pointing what was meant to be a threatening finger in her face. “Be careful, Sage.” He seemed to remember himself and moved away as quickly as possible. It stung.

“Lord Trystan! The tea is almost ready. Please return to the table at once!” Lyssa ordered from inside the room.

Edwin came around the corner of the corridor. His new glasses were a perfect fit against his nose, and Evie thought he stood a little prouder for it as he handed Trystan a tray of artfully decorated pastries.

“Thank you, Edwin,” Trystan said quietly.

Edwin’s smile stretched wide as he tipped a blue hand in salute. “Only the best for Lady Lyssa and Lord Trystan’s tea party. Is this enough?”

Trystan nodded, inspecting each one with careful attention and focus that made Evie feel like the butterflies in her stomach were trying to make their way up her throat. “These will do nicely.”

He took the tray from Edwin’s hands and returned to the room. Edwin made to leave, and Evie called after him. “Edwin, I’m sorry, I never thanked you for making up a plate for me when I slept through dinner. It was delicious.” She grinned. “Some of your best work. I meant to tell you sooner.”

Edwin turned, face softened, glancing at where Trystan had been standing. He spoke slowly, as if he were trying to make her understand something. “Ididn’t make any plates, Miss Evie.”

She shut her eyes tight, sucking in a breath as his meaningstruck her. Her smile was sad, she knew, because her eyes burned.

Shaking the thoughts away—allof them—she entered the room, giving Blade a look of amused censure when he tried to follow before she shut the door. Lyssa sat in the middle of the bedchambers at a small table with even smaller chairs. She had no idea where Trystan would’ve scrounged up such a thing, or if he’d had someone go out and retrieve it specifically for this purpose, and she wasn’t certain which would defeat her heart more.

Everything he did now was dangerous. But he was pulling away from her; she felt it.

Don’t give your heart to the boss, Evie!

Too fucking late.

What an ill-fated pair the two of them were. She was so lost in that bittersweet ache, she was jarred when Lyssa screeched at Trystan, who had his teacup halfway to his lips. “No, Lord Trystan! You must pour for Miss Halliway first!”

He furrowed his brow adorably in confusion, his face such a comfort to her. It took all of Evie’s will not to lean forward and kiss him. “Who is Miss Halliway?” he asked. It was Kingsley who lifted a foot and pointed to the doll seated in the chair with a rather frightening expression plastered on her porcelain face.

“Oh.”

This was it. This was the line he’d draw; Evie was sure of it. He’d humored Lyssa this long—she’d give him the credit. The pain of betrayal and loss might never be gone, but at least her sister had been thoroughly assured that she was safe, treasured, and loved. Evie started to move toward the table to give her own attention to Miss Halliway, both to protect Lyssa’s feelings and to spare her boss the painful awkwardness, but she was stopped…

As Trystan Maverine, Evil Overlord, in his large, ridiculouslyfrilly hat, picked up the flowery teapot and poured the tea, saying with a sternness that made her heart twist all over again, “My sincerest apologies, Miss Halliway. I usually have better manners.”

By the gods, she loved him.

She loved his smile and his rare laughter. She loved that in one moment he could be fiercely protective and in the next he could be soft and unsure. She loved that he understood her, perhaps better than anyone she’d ever known, that he made her importance known without placation. That he’d given her a reason to wake up in the morning, a reason to rush to get ready—not only to get to work (though she loved her work) but to get tohim. There could never be another person in the whole of the world she could feel this way about.

And then she rememberedhiswords.

We should keep our distance.

And as if he heard her thoughts, he turned to look at her with a grim expression. “Sage, I’ve been meaning to tell you. Along with your promotion, I took the liberty of having your desk moved to the alcove with all the windows, until we can have a proper office built for you.”

She gaped. The alcove was lovely, airy and spacious, and possibly as far away from his office as one could get. It had begun already, the distance. It would’ve hurt more if she didn’t notice that for someone getting their way, her boss looked like he’d just swallowed a thousand tiny shards of glass.

Something had happened. Something with the destiny monster—something he wasn’t telling her. She’d find out what it was, though, because if there was one good thing that she could wrench from all the pain, it was this. It wasthem.

And she was through not fighting for what she wanted.