Page 12 of Accomplice to the Villain

Trystan shut his eyes tight, releasing a breath before returning to his chambers, muttering as he walked…

“No. You can’t.”

Chapter 6

Evie

“She just needs time, Mama,” Evie assured her mother later that morning as Nura paced the length of Evie’s new office. What had once been a mere brightly lit corner alcove had been converted into an open and cheery little space. Her white desk, which Trystan had once thrown a body across, was now pushed up against the window so that the light delightfully warmed her skin while she worked. Every morning, a bouquet of white roses appeared upon her desk, as well as a new tin of vanilla candies—the first from Marv, the second from Edwin. Small touches of kindness that felt like the grandest of gestures were often Evie’s favorite. It meant someone was thinking of you at the most ordinary times of the day and sought somehow to improve yours. It created an air of sweetness to mask the bitter feeling of being shoved off to the corner like a child in a time-out.

She’d made the effort to adorn the windows with small blue and white paper butterflies Lyssa had made the day Evie was “banished.” It had been Lyssa’s attempt to make the distance between Evie and The Villain seem like a happy change. Except Evie was afraid the only change it invoked was her new and sudden alarming disdain for butterflies.

Nura stood by the other window, leaning against it and running her fingers gently down the stained glass. “I know. I’m sure this is all very frightening for her. I suppose I just wish she’d be more like you in that regard.” There was pride in her voice as she walked toward where Evie sat. She leaned over the desk to place both hands upon her cheeks, looking into her face with a gratefulness Evie did not deserve. “You accepted me again right away.” A tear ran down Nura’s face. “My sweet girl and her sweet smile.”

You could fix a broken world with just your smile.

The tears stinging Evie’s eyes were not ones of joy, because those words her mother had told her so long ago…they no longer felt like a compliment.

But she smiled anyway.

Just in case.

“Lyssa’s been dealing with a lot of change lately. I can’t blame her for not coping well with another. Especially one so confusing.” Evie kept her gaze down at her desk, moving her head away from her mother’s hands, refocusing on the notes in her journal she’d taken the morning before, meager bits of the old man’s memories she’d written down at the tavern. Pieces of Rennedawn’s storybook prophecy.

Keys, windows, and something about a door and a stain?

Then again…he had been chained up by the owner for public drunkenness…and he had been trying to escape…

Keys, windows, door, stain.

With a loud groan, Evie let her forehead fall against the open gold-foiled notebook.

“Why is it confusing?” Nura asked, her voice distant as Evie contemplated the question.

Slowly picking up her head, furrowing her brow, she said, “What?”

“Why do you think my return is so confusing for Lyssa?” Nura asked, her head leaned forward like she knew the answer, like she was preparing to hear it but needed Evie to say it aloud.

“Well—”Please don’t make me do this. Don’t force me to be strong in this moment. Not when I’ve earned the right to curl up and cry.

Her mother was alive and whole. Evie needed to be grateful, needed to accept that the pain and resentment of the past didn’t matter any longer. Her head knew this, but her heart was twisting so hard in her chest that she felt nauseous.

Nura’s face grew solemn. “Evangelina, I am not fragile. My magic has been dormant since I returned, and my head is clear. I can handle the truth.”

The scar on Evie’s shoulder began to send shocking sensations down her spine, all the way to the dagger at her thigh, and ithurt. “You didn’t raise her!” The words burst from her as if the burning had shoved them out.

Nura flinched and stepped away. “I…I realize that.”

Evie sighed, pushing away from her chair to stand. “I’m not trying to be cruel. You said you could handle the truth, and the truth is that to Lyssa, you are little more than a stranger.”

To me, too.

But she didn’t add the final part, as her goals for the day didn’t include ravaging her mother’s heart, and if her forced acceptance of the woman who’d left her behind took some of the brunt off Lyssa, Evie would do it. Feigned smile and all.

“She’ll get to know you, and all will be well, Mama. Please don’t fret.” Evie reached for her mother’s hand.

Nura smiled back. “I suppose you’re right. I— Oh, hasibsi!” Her mother’s eyes caught on the journal sprawled open on Evie’s desk, picking it up and pointing to the stains on the pages. The bloodstains. From the stabbing.Oops.“What on earth happened here?”

“Oh, I just ran into a little trouble yesterday on a work…excursion. There was a bit of, um, fighting involved. My journal was one of the casualties.” She forced herself to sound sufficiently sheepish instead of proud. Her mother likely wouldn’t entirely approve of her work pursuits. But Evie knew she wasn’t ignorant of them, either. In her time as a star in the sky, Nura had witnessed and watched over all her children in between periods of dormant sleep.