Page 24 of Apprentice to the Villain

She’d barely slept a wink before finally giving up and making the awful mistake of searching through her mother’s stack of letters, which were practicallyruined. The scraps were barely legible, save for a few innocuous words. It was a wonder the king had wanted the letters in the first place—they would hardly be a help in locating her mother or her magic. But the letters were not the only thing stashed among the parchment she’d made off with the night before.

Gripping her journal tight, she pulled the papers from inside, then dropped the book onto her desk. “Sir, may I talk to you in private?”

The boss looked at her like she’d asked him to strip naked. “I suppose if you must.” Grimacing, he gestured to his office doors.

She scrunched her nose at the coldness but walked in, skidding to an immediate halt when she saw who was inside. “Lyssa!” Evie hissed. “What on earth are you doing here?”

Her little sister, who Evie had ensured was confined to their large rooms in the manor’s west wing for the past seven days, sat in the boss’s large black chair, twisting the end of her dark braid around her finger. She blinked innocently at Evie, but her brown eyes hinted at mischief. “I’m working. From what I’ve seen, you all don’t do very much of it.” Lyssa tried to push the chair out to stand, but it didn’t budge. “What are you doing?”

Evie gave a panicked side glance to The Villain, who wasstaring at his desk and the person in his chair with resigned acceptance.

“I’ve been replaced.”

Kingsley, well timed as always, hopped up onto the desk, holding up two different signs.MoreandCompetent.

“I should’ve let the king turn you into soup.” The Villain rolled his eyes at the animal.

Lyssa burst from the chair and ran toward them, Kingsley following near her like a guard frog. “Lord Trystan!” To Evie’s horror, Lyssa threw her arms around her boss, looking up at him with an elated expression. “I’m so happy to see you!”

“Are you certain?” he asked dryly.

When Lyssa stepped back, Trystan very studiously took her sister’s hand and bowed deeply over it. “How are you finding the manor, Lady Lyssa?” There was no teasing or malice to the question, simply earnest inquiry.

Evie would have to be dead to not swoon over that just a little—it was the law.

Her sister answered bluntly: “I’m very bored.” Evie winced.

A bemused look overtook The Villain’s forbidding aura, blooming into full warmth when Edwin, the manor’s ogre-turned-chef, barreled into the room, a tray of sweets in each hand. “Trystan!”

The Villain’s lips curved up at the ogre’s entrance. “Hello, Edwin.” But the smile dwindled when Edwin dropped the trays and hoisted The Villain into his large arms. “Edwin,” he rasped. “You’ll break my spine.”

Edwin dropped him, then used his white apron to wipe the tears fogging up the too-small spectacles perched on the tip of his nose. Ogres were notorious for their deep wells of emotion. “I missed you a great deal, Mr. Trystan.” Edwin noticed Evie off to the corner and nodded politely at her. She smiled in response.

The Villain cleared his throat uncomfortably. “I suppose,uh, I…missed… Um, thank you.” His black eyes were looking anywhere but at the ogre, falling to Lyssa, who was watching the interaction with interest while slowly sneaking a pastry from the dropped tray. The boss grinned at the sight. “Edwin, while I appreciate the sweets delivery, I wonder whether you might show Lady Lyssa how to make those lemon tarts you’re so famous for. I fear she is suffering from a case of boredom.”

Lyssa beamed, jumping up and gripping Edwin’s large hand in her own, practically dragging him toward the door. “Yes, please! Can I wear an apron?” Edwin gave the boss a knowing look as he followed Lyssa with a soft smile on his face, shutting the door behind them.

Evie gaped. “You busied her in less than two minutes. What kind of wizard are you?”

The Villain let out a noise that sounded suspiciously like a snort as he walked across the room, lightly bumping into her usual chair on the way, causing it to tilt slightly toward the window. “Have a seat, Sage,” he said, rounding his desk and lowering slowly into his chair.

She smiled lightly, realizing how much she had missed their morning briefings. “Your cauldron brew, sir,” she said, placing the ceramic chalice in front of him, frowning slightly. “I had intended to give it to you earlier—I even tried to make a skull with the milk—but I fear it’s gone cold. Your first day back, maybe I should just—”

She reached to pick it up, but The Villain had already snatched it from the desk and taken a hearty sip. “I shall enjoy it just like this, thank you,” he said gruffly, staring at her rather strangely while she seated herself. The sunlight was pouring in, brushing her cheeks, and it felt lovely.

“What did you want to talk about?”

She got right to the point. “My mother’s letters are mostly ruined.” She stood again, leaning over slightly, and placed thepapers on his sleek black desk, sliding the parchment closer as loose curls fell in her face. His eyes moved in three different directions: first to the pants hugging her thighs, then to her red lips, then back to the papers. He made no expression, but his hand was gripping the desk so tight, his knuckles went white.

Don’t read into it, Evie.

Tucking the wayward strands of hair behind her ear, she kept speaking in hopes it would calm her fast-beating heart. “The only words I could truly make out are ‘hasibsi,’ ‘love,’ ‘starlight,’ and this dirty little rhyme that makes absolutely no sense.”

The boss looked at her, suddenly alert, but she continued on.

“Oh! And there was something else stashed between the pages. My, um,informantalso slipped in this.” She dropped the glowing, silver-edged page on the table. “I think… I think it’s a page fromRennedawn’s Story. It details tools to enact the prophecy, to save the kingdom and its magic.”

His eyes widened as he scooped up the single sheet of parchment with an alarmed swiftness. Scanning furiously, he breathed out, “The seal.” He ran his hand down the inked marking toward the top—the one glowing from ancient magic. “By the gods, it appears you beguiling a Valiant Guard was an advantage indeed.”