Page 158 of Accomplice to the Villain

“Enough.” The king knocked his staff against the floor, and the ground rattled with it. “Bring in the enchantress.”

The enchantress?

“They’re helping us?” Evie asked, holding her dagger high when one of the knights came too close.

“No,” Winnie said hollowly. “No. They are not.”

Evie’s mother had told her many stories of enchantresses. Women who could cast spells and twine enchantments about the land, leaving joy and goodness in their wake. As she got older, the world’s opinion of them had not been as kind, but Evie never lost that vision in her mind.

Of a vibrant, beautiful woman bending the kingdom to her will.

This woman was beautiful but vibrant no longer. Her skin was an unnatural pale, cracked lips in a grimace, light eyes squinting into the small amount of sunset coming in through the large windows.

“Let me die now; if that is your command, I care no longer,” the enchantress Belinda rasped.

“You aren’t dying,” Queen Brina said with firm fairness. “Not yet.” The queen stood, and everyone straightened as she descended the small steps from her throne to the raised platform. “What was meant to be a day of justice for my late son has turned into a game of politics. I have missives squawking about a tip that The Villain and his accomplice are trying to save my son’s murderer from execution, and now I have you all spilling into my throne room from an entry point only the royal family has access to.”

Three knights surged forward, all holding Trystan in their clutches.

“Your Majesty, you don’t understand,” Evie reasoned. “The enchantress did not kill your son! He’s the one who brought us here!”

The king’s face turned red. “You— You dare to insinuate such a thing?”

The queen stopped just before Evie. Her crown was strange. It looked a little like a basket, wicker woven artfully throughout, adorned with lilies.

“Allow me to take them away, Your Majesty,” the leader of the Lily Pad Knights offered. “These traitors are fugitives of Rennedawn, and their crimes were committed there. It will be our responsibility to bring them before the law.”

“I committed crimes here, too,” Evie said under her breath, glaring when The Villain pinched her arm.

“You will not take anyone away until I have my answers.” Queen Brina seemed to possess this rare ability to make everyone feel warm around her—and scared.

Evie loved it, actually.

“My son was killed by this woman in an assassination plot against the crown, and it appears she had help. By those my son called his friends.”

“You’re wrong, Queen Brina.” Clare shut her eyes tight, like she was preparing herself for impact. She opened them once more, resolve replacing trepidation. “It was me. I wanted my brother to be anything but The Villain, so I enlisted Belinda’s help to save him from my mother. But there was an accident. Alexander arrived before my brother, and—”

“I find that interesting,” Queen Brina said, “considering your mother was the one who told us you were coming.”

Amara walked out of the shadows, and Arthur flinched, whispering pain-laced words. “No. Amara.”

Amara folded her arms. There was a small crack in her composure as she looked down upon the people she had so easily betrayed. “I had an obligation, Arthur. To save the king and queen from what my children had become.” The king nodded at Amara with admiration.

“You will be rewarded for your service to our kingdom, Mistress Maverine.”

Amara smiled like that was exactly what she was hoping for, and the group watched as Arthur’s heart broke at the betrayal.

Trystan moved, placing a hand on his father’s shoulder. Arthur’s eyes gleamed into his as he nodded an acknowledgment of the gesture.

There was a way to fix all this.

“He’s a frog,” Evie blurted. Finding Kingsley in the corner, she hurried over to him, but she was stopped by a very tall Lily Pad Knight. “Can you scooch a little to the left, please?”

The knight did, causing a wave of murmurs among them at the sign of deference. “Gotcha!” Evie put both hands around Kingsley and held him up for the entire room to see. “Behold! Prince Alexander Kingsley.”

“That is a frog,” one of the Lily Pad Knights whispered, before getting elbowed in the gut by the bigger one.

“How foolish do you think we are, Ms. Sage?” The king descended to stand next to the queen. His eyes were tired, his posture that of a man who’d been beaten down more than once over the years. “That we would believe such a farce?”