Page 132 of Accomplice to the Villain

He shocked her when he brushed one of her curls behind her ear, fingers grazing her cheek as they went, soft eyes looking at her like he had never seen anything as fascinating as what was in front of him.

“When you tell this story, you can also say that the moment The Villain read that letter, the first person he wanted to tell was you. The first person—” He swallowed, struggling with the words. “The first person he wants to tellanythinghas always been you.”

Her smile was big and bright and honest.

Real.

Trystan must have known, because he answered it with one of his own. So big and beautiful, his whole face changed into someone gentle, someone tenderhearted and open. And Evie made a simple vow to herself.

I will kill Benedict for trying to take this from him. If it’s my final act in this life.

“Well, I’m going to check on the cake.” Evie smiled, folding her hands behind her back, and slowly moved away, ignoring her instincts to get as close to him as possible.

“Very well.” Trystan’s grin faded. “Sage. I meant to ask—who exactly are you planning to share this story with?”

Evie flung her arms wide in a dramatic curtsy, faking exasperation. “Our children, obviously. Girls, I think. Two of them.”

She was joking, of course, but that did not mean she didn’t enjoy the way he paled, looking seconds away from fainting. “Girls. Two of them,” he repeated slowly, like it was happening, like she’d currently summoned the children just by mentioning it, like she was conjuring gremlins.

“Not to worry, sir!” Evie spun around, calling behind her as she strode away, head high. “They’ll probably be just like me!”

Yes, this was the best birthday she had ever had.

She just hoped it was not the last.

Chapter 68

The Villain

They sailed into port in the early hours of the morning, the fog rolling in as steady as the morning tide. It clouded Trystan’s view of Benevolence Village, but that did not stop him from taking it all in with a grim expression.

He had not slept a wink the night prior. Instead, he’d remained in the background as the crew sang their birthday song to Sage, then happily tripped one of the crewmen into the wall when he planted a large kiss on her cheek. After that, he’d disappeared, saying he had a headache, but that wasn’t why he had made his escape. Not truly.

He inhaled the scent of salty sea water mixing with the smells of the bakery just opening on the docks. The thin cloth of his shirt did nothing to protect him from the morning chill, but it did not matter. He needed the cold.

Girls. Two of them.

She had been trying to rattle him. As far gone as Trystan was for her, he wasn’t so foolish as to ignore her insistent attempts to shake him, to be his downfall in this battle of wills.

The problem was not even that she was winning.

It is that I’m bloody enjoying it.

All night, he was plagued by images of those two little girls with Sage, of a familywithSage. Every time he tried to shove the thoughts away, they kept popping up like a deadlands-possessed jack-in-the-box.

Kingsley dragged his chained foot over to perch on the ship’s edge, holding up a single sign.

Father?

“No!” he boomed before slowly looking up to find a dozen set of eyes locked on him, all clearly having witnessed the outburst.

Kingsley put the sign down and pointed his toes toward the edge of the dock, and Trystan followed, his irritation flashing to embarrassment when he saw what Kingsley was pointing at: his father, Arthur, waiting on the docks. Trystan’s ears grew hot.

Kingsley held up another sign.

L.O.L.

“What in the deadlands is L.O.L.?” He picked up the sign and shook it accusatorily.