Page 116 of Adversary to the Villain

“I wish.” He grinned, and she held his gaze for just a few seconds longer than necessary.

Evie leaned ever so slightly in his direction, but a child’s chair apparently couldn’t take even that much from her. There was the sound of wood cracking, and then she was falling to the ground on her arse.

“The chair broke,” she said, frozen in shock.

“It was already broken,” Lyssa said airily. “Lord Trystan fell off it when I asked if he was going to marry you.”

It was a very good thing Evie was already on the ground. Because the chances of that knocking her on her ass were high. “Oh?” she drawled. “And what was his reply?”

“He didn’t reply. He just fell over,” Lyssa whispered from behind her hand.

“I did not reply because that is hardly something your sister wants to be thinking about right now.” Trystan’s color was heightened, his hair mussed from running his fingers through it. He looked younger, unsure.

Evie knew that their lives and futures were still uncertain. But she was also coming to learn that it was better to enjoy her present moments of peace than be at war with a future she couldn’t predict.

“I think about it,” she murmured.

His head turned toward her so fast, she backed up an inch. “You…think about it?” His disinterested tone and the flatness of his expression were negated by the near-wild look in his eyes.

“All the time, actually.” She smiled shyly, feeling a bit like when she’d had her first crush. Bubbly but bashful. So nervous, each word out of her mouth felt like a match beneath dynamite.

“She does,” Lyssa agreed. “She named your children in her work journal.”

“Lyssa!” Evie screamed, arms flailing upward. “Wonderful. Now he’s going to think I’m a madwoman.”

He smirked, like this was a challenge being presented. “My taste runs toward madwomen, actually, so I find that suitable.”

Lyssa looked between them with a bewildered expression before settling her eyes on Evie. “He sniffed your pillow.”

“I did not!” Trystan objected angrily. “I was yelling into it. Per your instructions.”

Evie stared blankly, because she really was now convinced that she’d never woken up.

“He kept your scarf, too, Evie—from when you first met,” Lyssa pointed out.

“What is happening!” Trystan held a hand to his head, like he needed to hold his mind in place.

“So…” Evie felt that warmth in her chest, the kind that comes from allowing your worries to melt away, leaving them all behind…the kind of feeling she only got when she messed with Trystan Maverine. “You’ve been obsessed with me for a while, then?”

“Obsessed?” Trystan raised a sardonic brow.

“Pining. Desperate.” She sighed dramatically, hugging her arms around herself, pretending to preen. “Keeping a shrine to me in your wardrobe.”

“I held on toonescarf!” Trystan argued, rubbing at his temples. “That’s hardly a shrine.”

She booped his nose, and his response was to stumble back like she’d punched him. “Be honest. You’ve sniffed that, too, haven’t you?”

He scoffed, eyes darting side to side. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

Lightning flashed in the windows, and then thunder struck, and suddenly the sun had disappeared. “That’s odd. I didn’t see…storm clouds.”

Another crack through the window, and shuffling sounded in the hall…then screams.

“What’s going on?” Lyssa asked nervously.

A furious knock on the door had them all on their feet. “What?” Trystan barked.

Kingsley appeared when the door opened. Human Kingsley, that is. “We have a guest.”