Page 153 of Accomplice to the Villain

“You’re bleeding. Dammit, Kingsley.” Trystan went to grab the frog, who’d already hopped away, eyes darting like he’d bolt any second.

“I’m fine. I’m fine.”

“You just slammed your head into a stone fountain,” Trystan protested.

Evie shrugged. “At the frequency it happens, you find that surprising?”

He wiped a hand down his mouth. “No, Sage.”

“Alexander,” Arthur hissed as the frog leaped down another corridor. The group of them skittered after the animal, keeping as quiet as possible. “We can’t let him wander.”

They all kept to the walls, and Evie was relieved that the halls were quiet now, save for the subdued sounds of their steps moving swiftly after the troublesome frog. Every time Evie looked back to be sure Trystan was there, the tension between them was so thick it was as if she could see it.

No, wait—she could. It was Trystan’s magic swirling about her feet, playing with the bottom of her skirt.

It curled around her wrist, tugging her until she stumbled into Trystan’s chest. His stoic stare did not waver, but he gently and reluctantly righted her, pushing her away from him. “I apologize.”

Her lips hovered close to his. “Don’t.”

His mouth twitched, and he wordlessly lifted her hem as they passed a puddle forming under a leaking part of the palace roof, so her skirt would not get wet. It was a courteous gesture, but she felt him stumble just the tiniest bit as he did so, and she grinned like a lovesick fool.

And after Kingsley they went, Arthur leading the group, signaling when it was safe to proceed and when to flatten to the walls as a guard rounded the corner. There was a good chance they would get caught, but as Kingsley stopped, turning to them, golden eyes wide again, Evie felt it in her bones.

They would be leaving here with a prince.

Chapter 78

Gideon

“Can’t you go faster?” Gideon asked Keeley as they rode at a breakneck pace back to Massacre Manor, the rest of the Malevolent Guard close behind.

“If you ask me that one more time, I’m throwing you off!” Keeley yelled as her steed hurdled over a large boulder effortlessly. Hickory Forest blurred around them as they moved, faster and faster. The rain hadn’t stopped, it had only lightened, still soaking Gideon’s shirt to his chest and his pants enough to uncomfortably rub against his legs.

“All this time,” Gideon breathed, tightening his grip around Keeley’s waist. “You really think Marv could’ve done all this? The notes to Lyssa? Orchestrating my father’s release? Tying up Edwin?”

“I don’t know.”

“Or the letters to you, for that matter. Why would Marv be writing to you as your father?” They flew over a fallen branch, and the jolt gave Gideon a good indication that his arse would be sore tomorrow—if he didn’t fall off first. “It couldn’t have just been…Marv.”

“Why did you say his name like that?” Keeley asked, leaning forward to give her steed more momentum.

“Because Marv isn’t the name of a bad guy. Marv is the name of the uncle who says something awkward at yule dinner after too much mead and everyone goes home uncomfortable.”

The horse slowed, and Gideondidfall off this time, rolling as his shoulder hit the ground and grunting at the impact. “Gods, Keeley! I could have broken my—”

The manor.

The thorny grove had been hacked into in one corner, clear through to the front door, and there was a flag atop the tower, gliding back and forth in the storm.

A flag with the crest of King Benedict.

“No,” Keeley whispered, running for the door, gold hair the one thing gleaming in the gray that surrounded them.

Gideon took off after her, calling to the Malevolent Guards behind them. “Protect your captain! Take back the manor!”

A chorus of shouts followed as the most lethal warriors in Rennedawn charged for the wooden doors, which were already suspiciously swinging open.

“Keeley, don’t! They’re waiting for us!” Gideon tried to stop her, but the captain didn’t listen, continuing to sprint headlong into what was clearly a trap. “Or go on ahead, run right into it. Interesting strategy. They’ll never suspect it!” He was being sardonic, but Keeley was no longer in earshot to appreciate it.