Page 26 of Adversary to the Villain

Gideon flinched, opening his mouth, but was immediately cut off by Trystan, who stood between them, looking much the soldier ready to die fighting for his cause. “Gideon, why don’t you go and ensure everyone has arrived. We’ll be along in a moment.” His tone brooked no argument. It was leave or have his head bashed in.

Gideon chose wisely.

As Trystan’s words sank in, Evie grabbed his arm, her still-damp curls brushing against the fabric. “Arrived?Everyone?” she asked, the heaviness of the interaction with her mother leaving to make room for her dismay.

His mouth curled, and even in the midst of everything, she needed a will of steel to withstand not kissing the dimple peeking through on his cheek. “What’s the worst thing you could imagine doing right now?”

With a dramatic groan, her forehead fell against his arm.

They were having a meeting.

Chapter 12

Gideon

As a child, Gideon had often considered the repercussions of saying the wrong thing. Evie had always been more generous with her words, no matter the consequence, which meant it was a stroke of luck that most of the things that came out of Evie’s mouth were endearing—and therefore written off as the silly musings of a young girl.

Whereas Gideon had been revered by their parents as a future knight. They spent the bulk of his childhood encouraging their son to train for that future, yet they had neglected to guide Evie in the same ways. They’d propelled him up and pushed her to stay small.

No one cares to remember to be gentle with me.

It occurred to Gideon now: no one had even tried.

A scrape of wood against the ground pulled his focus to his sister, who was attempting to give Maverine a wide berth while simultaneously sitting in the chair beside him.

Maverine, for his part, had already taken his seat at the meeting table, fixated on a piece of paper in front of him, focus unbroken even as he unceremoniously reached over and dragged Evie’s chair with little effort until she bumped the side of his. Her eyes flew wide, and she gripped the sides with a high-pitched squeak, staring at Maverine in astonishment.

“Bosses sit at the head, Sage.”

Evie didn’t seem appeased by this, her gaze turning shrewd. “Then I’ll sit at the other end.”

Maverine’s head snapped up, eyes sharp on Evie, his voice low. “I dare you to try.”

Evie’s cheeks pinked, and Blade cleared his throat with a grin, pulling a chair out for Ms. Erring. “Are we having a meeting? Or should we all leave for your next conjugal visit?”

Gideon recoiled, feeling bile rise as he gagged. Ms. Erring’s head fell into her hands, and Keeley, who had just walked in, flashed an obscenely pleased smile. He had a moment to enjoy it before she spotted him, and then it promptly disappeared.

Flattering.

“Gushiken, I’d avoid going outside for a while,” Maverine advised coolly, his eyes back on his papers.

Blade frowned. “Why?”

“Something might fall from the sky and kill you.”

“Like what?”

“A brick,” Maverine deadpanned.

Keeley attempted to intervene. “Sir, I—”

“Might it wait a moment, Captain?” Maverine cut her off, standing to address them. “First things first. Are the dungeons secure?”

Keeley nodded. “Standard locks have been added on all the doors exiting the dungeons, and several Malevolent Guards are posted there.”

“No locks on the cells themselves?” Evie asked, frowning.

“I’m afraid we didn’t have nearly enough on hand.” Keeley folded down into the seat across from Gideon, and even amid this crisis, he felt his heart rate pick up speed at her nearness. “I’ll put in an order for more, but I’d imagine demand for them is about to skyrocket, what with all the magically enchanted locks starting to fail.”