Page 48 of Adversary to the Villain

Unbelievable development, really.

When they stood near toe to toe, Trystan shook his head in wonder. “How?”

It was unclear what finally gave. What within Alexander snapped back into place enough for him to point at Winnifred Erodina and speak his first clear word in a decade.

It was rasped, and raw, so brutally difficult he almost didn’t get it out. But he did.

“Her.”

Winnifred blinked and stared at him like he’d accused her of stealing food from orphans. “Me?” She pointed at herself, startled in unfortunately endearing confusion, then waved her hands like that would change his revelation. “What I did didn’t work.”

“I found him like this two days ago,” Clare blurted out in a rushed confession.

“You what?” Trystan asked, his tone quiet with warning.

“I’m sure she had a good reason!” Evie soothed.

Clare winced. “I did not think you could handle it yet.”

Evie sighed and saluted. “You’re on your own, soldier.”

Alexander shook his head, grabbing Trystan’s shoulder, looking at him with a pinch of regret. But the man had never been particularly adept at emotion.

So naturally, it surprised Alexander when Trystan was the one to hug him first.

Alexander froze. The sensation of being hugged was so unfamiliar, he nearly forgot what to do with his arms. Until he did, hugging him back.

“Aww!” Evie jumped. “This is so sweet. I’m going to cry.”

“Don’t,” Trystan responded flatly, separating from Alexander and pointing at her in a threat. “I can’t handle any more emotional distress today.”

“Is that what you’re calling me now?” Evie deadpanned. “My crowning achievement. Dub me royalty—” She halted, turning to him with an arched brow. “I’m sorry. Is the word ‘royalty’ triggering?”

“I’m triggered all right,” Trystan responded flatly, then turned to Clare. “I can’t believe you kept this from me.”

Clare stepped forward, shame hanging her head. “I can explain.”

Clare recounted Alexander approaching her, the time he’d spent as a human walking about the manor, disappearing and reappearing—often pantsless—and his very confusing transformation back into a frog at unpredictable times.

“What is the common denominator here? What changed him back?” Tatianna contemplated.

“It’s him. It’s his own fault,” Winnifred whispered, and Alexander whipped around to look at her so fast she stumbled back. He should really endeavor to stop scaring the mites out of the poor girl. But he had the distinct feeling she wasn’t really intimidated by him in the slightest.

“Wonderful,” Alexander rasped. His throat felt like knives were doing cartwheels from each syllable. “Why?”

Winnifred wrung out her hands. “I justknow. It’s like someone’s whispering answers in my ear but they’re usually vague and a little…” She trailed off when she realized the entire crowd was looking at her and wilted like a deadened weed. “I just have a feeling that the reason for the change is within your own self,” she mumbled.

Alexander had a feeling, too. It was a cross between perplexed and endeared.

“We tell no one he’s been transformed,” Trystan ordered with an authority he’d earned, one that had nearly everyone in the room straightening—all but Evie, who listened like the command had been delivered by a fly buzzing about her head. “Something to add?”

“Even more reason we should get Lionel here as soon as possible,” Evie said.

“Shall we send for a plague next?” Trystan grumbled.

“Lionel is the leading Curse Consultant in Rennedawn,” Evie pointed out. “He’ll be able to give us more definitive answers than us throwing guesses into the void.”

“I’m afraid if Lionel is within ten feet of my home I will be throwinghiminto the void,” Trystan argued.