Page 114 of Adversary to the Villain

He waited for Clare to hate him, for her to be disgusted and storm away. But instead, his little sister’s eyes flashed with respect. “I think…” she started.

He braced for her to continue.

“We have some inquiries to make.”

Chapter 57

Evie

Two days before the funeral…

Lyssa still wouldn’t speak to her.

And Evie understood why. She’d broken a promise; she’d broken her trust.

She’d said she would never leave. Ever.

She’d begun to understand her mother’s pain at not being accepted. But unlike Evie’s mother, Lyssa could slam the door in Evie’s face every time she knocked—and she’d still keep coming back.

“Lyssa?” Evie knocked. “Edwin sent me with some biscuits, the kind you like. With the cheese?”

The door creaked open, and Lyssa appeared. Evie tried to maintain her calm. Or she’d scare her. But inside, her heart leaped.

“I am in the middle of teatime. But you…may join,” Lyssa said as benevolently as a queen, tipping the door all the way open to reveal Trystan sitting there in the large, feathered hat Lyssa had him wear during their first tea party.

“Good afternoon, Sage.” Trystan stood abruptly, giving her a deferential nod while he pulled out the empty chair for her.

She’d hardly seen him in the last few days. He’d been too busy, sending missives, consulting law books, and enlisting Tatianna’s seafaring father for a means to their village’s port. “Good afternoon, Lord Blossom.”

“I’m Lord Daffodil,” Trystan corrected evenly.

“I was talking to the snail,” Evie choked out, pointing to the small animal nibbling on a flower atop one of the tea saucers. “You’re letting her call you Lord Daffodil?”

Lyssa handed Evie her cup of tea with a tentative smile, and Evie swallowed her overbearing emotions, taking a hearty sip.

“It seemed prudent, considering I picked it.” Trystan took a bite of the scone just in time for Evie to scald her tongue.

“You picked… All right then.” Evie gaped, wondering if she hadn’t in fact woken up that morning and was still trapped in her dreams. “Lyssa, do you think we could talk for a few minutes?”

Lyssa gave Evie a strange look and crossed her arms. “Wearetalking.”

“I mean in private.” Evie’s eyes flashed to Trystan, and he stood immediately, clearing his throat.

“We’re out of sugar. I’ll fetch more—” Trystan started.

“There’s some right here.” Lyssa picked up a tiny cannister, and Trystan unceremoniously grabbed it and chucked the small pot out the window. He pulled at his collar when both Sage girls stared at him.

“There was a spider,” he said flatly. “Excuse me.” He sailed from the room, black cape flaring out behind him like wings.

And then it was just them.

There had never been a moment of discomfort like this between Evie and her little sister. From the time Lyssa fell into her care as an infant, the hierarchy of their relationship had always remained the same. Evie was in charge. Evie took care of them. Evie was always there.

But that illusion had faded. And this was what remained.

“Lyssa, I wanted to say—”

“I’ve been managing quite fine without you.” She cut Evie off with a succinct smile. “You need not worry.”