Page 60 of Accomplice to the Villain

Edwin shook his head, taking off his glasses and rubbing them against his linen shirt. “The kitchen is my domain. What if little Lyssa had been with me? What would the knave have done to the poor thing?” Edwin’s blue cheeks turned a deep shade of violet, and tears sprang from his eyes.

“It’s my fault,” Trystan said, and every gaze in the room was on him. “There is no one to blame for this matter but me. I thought the thorny grove would be enough to keep the king’s men at bay. I was a fool.”

Kingsley leaped on the table, sign in hand that read,No.

“So, you think whoever snuck the notes to Lyssa was the same person who let in the intruder?” Tatianna asked.

Trystan pinched the bridge of his nose, nodding.

Clare cut in. “Evie, do you still have the notes?”

Sage looked up from her hands. “I do. I tried matching them to different résumés we have filed with very little luck. The writing isn’t like any I’ve seen.”

Clare leaned her head side to side, appearing to weigh her next words—a trait quite out of character for his little sister. Her normal mode was to speak as sharply and quickly as possible. “May I see them? Perhaps the ink they used could be traceable.”

Evie’s eyes lightened, and she leaped up, grabbing Clare by the hands. His sister looked alarmed at the sudden display of excitement, no doubt feeling the full effect of the force that was Sage’s joy. “Oh, Clare, that’s a wonderful idea! I’ll go grab them now from our rooms.” Sage turned to go but ran straight into Gideon Sage, who was standing in the doorway, looking around the room like a hen that had walked in on a pack of coyotes.

“Well, this looks like jolly good fun. Planning a funeral?”

“It will be yours if you don’t shut your mouth, sir knight,” Keeley bit out, glaring at Gideon.

Gideon smirked at her. “Ah, so you are feeling better, Captain. Good thing—your complacency was making me uneasy.”

Keeley’s nose twitched, and there was something familiar about it, something that resonated in Trystan’s mind. But he forgot immediately when Keeley gave Gideon a sneer before asking Trystan, “How do we know the traitor wasn’t him?”

That familiar flush of anger deepened the color on Sage’s cheeks and chest. But “Careful, Keeley” was all she said.

“He’s the one person who came here from behind enemy lines,” Keeley argued, not heeding the warning. Foolish, in Trystan’s opinion. The look on Sage’s face would send a weaker person to their knees. “Forgive me, Ms. Sage, but I think we would be remiss to not at least consider him a suspect.”

Sage moved toward Keeley, and Gideon was between the women in two strides. “Smart, Captain, covering all your bases. Absolutely add me to the suspect list.” Gideon folded his hands in front of him, looking nearly scholarly in his deliberation. “What am I suspected of having done, exactly?”

“Nothing,” Sage bit out. “The notes aren’t in Gideon’s handwriting. I checked.”

Gideon frowned. “Thanks for the vote of confidence, sis.”

Sage turned her anger on her brother, and Trystan had the absurd urge to grab a snack, kick his feet up on a chair, and watch her deliver one verbal blow after another. “I used to trust everyone who cared for me. You’ve cured me of that ailment, along with every other member of our family.” She paused. “Except Lyssa.”

Gideon folded his lips inward, pressing them until they turned white. “Brutally put, Eve, but right as always.”

Trystan didn’t like the way Sage folded her arms around herself, hunching like she was trying to become smaller. “What did you want, Gideon? This is a private meeting.”

Gideon unfolded a piece of paper that he’d had in his pocket, the crinkling sounds loud in the quiet room. He spread it out on the table and gestured to it with a puff of his chest. “Behold, my map of the Gleaming Palace.”

Becky stared at it as if it were a dead cockroach on the table. “Is this an official map? Why does it look like that?”

The directions were somewhat clear, but the map was obviously hand drawn and nowhere near official.

“I worked off my memory,” Gideon said, rubbing the back of his neck.

“A miracle, coming from you; we know memory isn’t one of your strong suits,” Trystan said smoothly. “Or is it easier to recall points of architecture than family members?”

Trystan didn’t hate Gideon. But he hated that Sage had scars that would never go away because her brother had been too selfish to come back after his memory returned.

Someone pinched Trystan’s thigh. “Ow!” He glared down to see Evie was whistling next to him, looking at the window whose repair was still in progress. “Sage!”

“What?” She threw her hands up in surrender.

Gideon watched them, as did the others, with a morbid amusement. “Can you two finish this later?”