Page 89 of Adversary to the Villain

Evie’s lip twisted in revulsion. “Helena, that is disgusting.”

Her cousin replied solemnly, “So is inflation.”

“Helena! The new security team is here!” Fritz called down, sporting two blooming bruises upon his face that he seemed quite pleased about.

“Let them in, Fritz! Take someone with you!” Helena ordered. “And let’s take a five-minute break, okay?” The performers gratefully exited stage left.

“If the entire village is meant to be trusted, why do we need security?”

With a sweep of her golden gown, Helena practically twirled away, running a gloved finger over one of the armrests. “The security is merely to protect the performers by ensuring that no one comes in with any sort of weapon. Plus, we’ve had a few in the crowd get handsy in the past, so I thought it easier to stop them before they need to be punished.”

“But isn’t it expensive?” Evie whispered.

Helena shrugged, uncharacteristic vulnerability creeping onto her face for just a moment before she winked back into her indulgent smirk. “As ruthless as I can be, I won’t sell my soul to keep one more coin. If there’s money to spare for security, then we pay for it. There’s money to spare. That’s all it is.”

Evie wondered what it was about the people in her life not being able to accept praise for a kind act. Evie herself didn’tneedthe praise to be kind, but it was always nice when someone acknowledged the warmth you chose to give others.

The sun still shone without any praise, but Evie liked to think it brightened when she complimented it anyway. It was a happy thought. She had too few of them lately.

It was killing her spirit. It wasn’t who she was. Is. She had never been the sort to wallow, to allow the pain to lessen the joy that kept her going. But perhaps that was the problem. How many times could she bounce back before she destroyed what remained?

“I’m surprised my mother didn’t return here before I did,” Evie said woodenly, disappointed but not surprised by the rejection. Digging her fingers into the pockets of the dress she had borrowed from Helena, she noted it was just a tad big in the chest, but her cousin had expensive tastes, and the pool of soft blue silk spilled over her curves in a distinctly feminine way.

“I wouldn’t have accepted her back here; give me some credit.” Helena frowned. “Maybe she’ll return to my father. Wouldn’t that just be a disaster?”

“He’d turn her in,” Evie guessed, knowing her uncle was too hard a believer in their corrupt kingdom. It was easy to ignore them when the bad things weren’t right in front of you, but it didn’t make them less real.

Helena looked grave, placing her clipboard down on an empty chair. “My father is ignorant and unwilling to learn. Two very dangerous things. Let’s hope your mother is smart enough to know that about him.”

A commotion at the back entrance to the theater pulled both their attention. Evie’s heart pounded in her chest. Was it him? Had he come for her? And what a contradiction, the hope stirring, because she’d simultaneously been desperately trying to shake the image of him hunched over on the ground, hurt by her own hands.

Evie believed there were things a person was never meant to see in life. That pain and fear in Trystan’s eyes had triggered a terrifying premonition. A life where they were enemies, true enemies, nothing between them but hatred.

It somehow didn’t seem conducive to a healthy long-term relationship.

And yet, regardless of every reason she knew she shouldn’t, she wanted it to be him badly enough that it crushed her when it wasn’t.

Don’t be a raging hypocrite, Evie!

Be a raging bitch instead. It’s more fun and hurts less.

The new guards came in to switch posts by the doors, all keeping their heads low to the ground in deference to Helena. It made Evie smile. “You’re really the queen of this castle, aren’t you?”

Helena tapped the top of her head. “And yet I’m crown-less.” They laughed, Helena’s usual smirk twisting into something genuinely happy. “Drink?” She nodded toward the empty stage, and moments later, there they sat, Helena dumping another bit of gin into Evie’s cup.

The stage lights were on, the sun on the verge of vanishing for the day. Evie knew she had to go home—gods knew how Lyssa felt, having their mother gone and then Evie within a few days of each other. But for the moment, she would let herself indulge in this simple pleasure of drinking with her cousin.

She took another hearty swig, feeling the warmth rush down into her belly, her limbs relaxing slightly as she rocked back on her hands.

“Helena?” Evie asked, then swallowed another gulp before clumsily pouring herself a second glass. “Do you believe in true love?”

“Sure.”

“That’s too casual a response to a heavy question.” Evie wagged a finger in her cousin’s face.

Helena turned her head away, but Evie could still see the soft smile on her cousin’s lips when she answered, “Of course I do, goose; I’m not so cynical. Not yet, anyway. I’ve seen it firsthand.”

“When?” Evie asked warily.