Page 69 of Assistant to the Villain

Otto thankfully ignored her, as though her words were like the annoying buzz of an insect that could be swatted away.

“It was the beginning of the week. I was flooded with orders and repairs. But a man came in, asking for a very special order. He said he worked for the king.”

A man.

There was, of course, no guarantee that the person who’d placed the order for the collar was the person who’d infiltrated their offices, but whoever it was had a direct line to them.

“Did you happen to see what the man looked like?” her boss asked, his goals and focus singularly on solving this perplexing little mystery.

“I didn’t—he wore a mask. It had the king’s symbol on it, the two swords crossing over the lion.”

“And he requested a dragon collar for the king? When he had no need for it?” The Villain began to tap his fingers against the hilt of the sword hanging around his waist. He was itching for violence; Evie could tell. “That is exceptionally peculiar, is it not?”

“Apparently…” The blacksmith leaned closer, looking all too much like a conspirator. “He was doing some sort of undercover work. Everyone thinks King Benedict’s been too passive when it comes to dealing with The Villain.”

The use of his moniker had Trystan standing up at attention. “Do they?” But Evie could tell he was pleased with this development.

“Oh yes. For all his strengths, King Benedict has a good heart. There’s a rumor that The Villain was once an apprentice of sorts to the king, and that’s why he’s been so quick to let him get away with all his nefarious doings.”

“Itwouldbe by the benevolence of the king and not of his own merit,” her boss said darkly. “The Villain doesn’t have the intelligence to outsmart him.”

Otto nodded in furious agreement, oblivious to the fact that The Villain was probably imagining several different ways to decapitate him. “But apparently the good king has us all fooled. I think he’s had inner dealings with The Villain on his own all this time.”

“Why would you think that?” Evie asked.

“Because the man who was here said that the collar was going directly to The Villain’s lair at Massacre Manor. That the king found out about The Villain acquiring a dragon, and the collar was to be a subtle message to him. That his days of wreaking havoc were numbered.”

And there it was. The flat truth they’d been looking for, laid out before them. And yet they were no closer to learning the identity of the traitor—or the king’s ultimate plan.

Evie’s heart raced.It was funny, really, that she had felt such anger and dread when she’d entered this room, and despite finding exactly what they wanted to know, she was going to leave it feeling the same way—worse, even.

Which simply wouldn’t do.

The stool groaned loudly as she stood. Shoulders back and chin high, she looked Otto Warsen directly in the eyes. “You were very helpful, Mr. Warsen, thank you. Unfortunately, my boss will not be needing your services after all.”

The blacksmith nearly toppled off the stool with the force of his sputtering, “You— I— How dare you speak for your betters, you insolent little brat!”

Evie imagined for a moment that she saw steam coming out of the man’s ears and nose, and a small smile graced her lips.

A slip.

When Otto’s eyes caught the movement of her lips, he went from enraged to explosive. But his oncoming meltdown was disrupted when The Villain stepped forward and held up a staying hand, looking at Mr. Warsen like he was nothing more than an inconvenience.

“What my assistant says is true. I have no need of your services any longer. As it turns out, I don’t think you can provide me with what I require, but I thank you for your time.” There was leveled calm in her employer’s voice, like the stillness in the wind before the beginnings of a storm.

“Of course. I wish you luck on finding someone who can serve you better,” the blacksmith sneered.

The Villain turned to Evie. “Are you ready to depart?”

She nodded, a little awestruck by the exchange. They both began for the door, but then Evie saw Mr. Warsen move toward Trystan with that all-too-familiar dagger in his hand.

And she started to scream.

Chapter 28

Evie

“Sir—” But the word came out on a strangled gasp as she fell to her knees in all-consuming, burning pain.