Page 42 of Apprentice to the Villain

Evie almost fell on her ass trying to dive after them. “Rebecka, don’t leave me alone with—” She turned, and the boss was right in front of her, molten eyes boring into hers. The shadow along his jaw was darker and fuller than it usually was, and there were no subtle shifts in his face. Just an accusatory intensity as he pointed at the drawing.

“This is you?”

She paused and then nodded. It was hopeless, anyway; may as well cut her losses.

“Then who is this you’re kissing?” The boss raised a brow.

She almost fainted dead away. Did he not know? By the gods, it was so obvious! Either the sketch was truly abominable or her boss was incredibly obtuse. Or both. Sheshouldjust admit it, throw the truth of her feelings out in the open, and see where they landed. But instead, the only thing that fell out was, “You wouldn’t…know him.”

She wanted to smack her palm against her forehead.

It looked rather like he was about to bend the book in half, but his face was deathly calm. “Oh, no? Let’s see. Tell me his name.”

She had a strange feeling that whoever she named would suffer a mysterious disappearance by the day’s end. Which shouldn’t have thrilled her, but it did. There were a few screws loose in her skull, and they all fell out when she realized the boss was jealous.

Don’t make the boss jealous, Evie!

Even if it’s really fun!

“No, thank you,” she said, rolling the vial of stardust in her palms before dropping it in her pocket.

“I think that looks like Terrence McChalice.” She jumped out of her skin when Gideon appeared over her shoulder.

“Gideon!” she gasped. “How did you get out of your room?” Her brother had changed into a nondescript green tunic that brought out the green in his eyes, and he wore mischief like it was the latest fashion.

Gideon shrugged. He no doubt had observed the boss’s pulsing vein. “Don’t fret, Mr. Villain. Terrence is the object of affection of every woman in our village. Though if I recall, he only ever had eyes for Evie.”

It was a foolish thing to say, considering there was no Terrence McChalice.

The boss handed the journal back to her with a gentleness sheknew he didn’t feel. He had his torture face on, and she had caused it with her ridiculous little drawings. How thrilling. “Sir? Are you all right?”

He was contemplating his next move; she could tell by the way he swallowed, by the way he tilted up his chin. “Yes, I suppose there is no time to waste. The guvres have us on a ticking clock.”

She nodded, ready to make for the kitchens to reprimand the two traitors who had fed her to the wolves, but one of the Malevolent Guard barreled in—a new recruit. A brutal and cruel one. Damien.

“Oy! King-kisser! Get back to the cushy rooms they set up for you, or your next lodgings are gonna be belowground in the dungeons with your rutting father!” Damien gripped Gideon by the arm, and Evie felt herself freeze at the mention of Griffin Sage.

She’d been avoiding the topic of her father for a reason. She hadn’t even uttered his name since that night. It hurt too much to say it, to think of him at all. It felt like her chest had been cracked open and all the pain was spilling out onto the floor in front of everyone. She took in a deep inhale, then another, willing herself to calm, willing the burning tears in her eyes to dissipate, but they didn’t. They pooled in the corners of her eyes and then slid down her face.

Workers passed by, gawking at her. She felt naked as tears rolled down her cheeks.

Gods, at this rate, there should be an incident board for her tears.

It’s been zero days since Evie’s last sob.

“Eve?” Gideon said, stepping closer, face pinched with concern, but his path was blocked. Trystan loomed in front of her, shielding her from the rest of the room before passing her a light-blue handkerchief from his pocket.

The Villain’s loud voice echoed on the walls, and though shewas looking down, she could feel his eyes like a finger gliding along her cheek. “Everyone get out!”

The workers froze, and so did she. Nobody moved…until the boss boomed again, “NOW!”

The room was emptied in seconds. Gods knew where they went. The only remaining bodies in the space were her, Trystan, Gideon, and Damien, who looked furious.

Her lip wobbled, and she closed her eyes as she took the scrap of cloth from Trystan’s hand. The brush of her fingers against his skin calmed her. “Sir, why did you do that?”

“Edwin’s nearly finished with a batch of cookies, and I did not want to share.”

She blinked up at him. His dark eyes weren’t angry, and they weren’t full of censure; they were full of mirth. He was trying to make her laugh, to lighten her heart. The way she always tried to do for him, the way she tried to do for everyone. Nobody had ever done that, had ever tried to lighten things forher.