Page 101 of Apprentice to the Villain

He barely heard Raphael finish his sentence.

“You die.”

Chapter 61

Becky

This was all her fault.

She should never have allowed their boss to walk across the entry. She’d foolishly thought her family’s belief in unconditional acceptance would extend even to The Villain. This place was meant to be a refuge, but it was to be his prison.

Though he could survive the test, could be deemed worthy. There was a chance.

“Rebecka, my goodness! You’ve only been home twenty minutes and the house is in an uproar. Whatever is the matter?” Renna, her mother, glided into the room, her long red hair cascading down her back in auburn waves. “My sweet girl, you’ve come home.” Renna took a step toward her, and Becky took four large steps back.

Renna flinched.

Blade moved next to Becky, angling his body slightly in front of her, shielding her from her mother’s hurt. His purple vest oddly fit the scene, like he was the one who belonged here, not her. Tatianna and Clare drifted slowly toward the bookshelf in the back corner of the room, like they wanted to escape from the familial conflict. Becky wished she could escape it, too.

“Mother.” Becky folded her lips and nodded, feeling far too much like a girl of twelve, not a woman of twenty-five. “The fortress has taken my boss as its next victim. If you’ve any ideason how to reverse it, now would be the time.” She kept her composure in the question, as she always did. But there was a jittery panic at the thought of her boss being hurt and the trickle effect it would have on the others. There were few people who mattered to her, well and truly. Inconveniently, nearly every single one of them was under this roof.

Renna’s eyes widened as Becky’s father tumbled in after her. Julius Fortis had married into their family when he’d met her mother at a local fair. He’d been selling flowers, her mother had made them dance, and the rest was a fairy tale. Her father’s love was instant and intense, as he loved everyone—as he loved Becky. It was a discomfiting thought to Becky rather than a comfort, to be so consumed by affection for another that it compromised all your sense and restraint. Becky far preferred to remain in control of her life, of herself. Never mind that her eyes kept searching for Blade. That feeling would pass, and any hints of affection would ease. Her father did not hold such principles.

Julius didn’t give her the chance to back away, just moved his tall frame over to her before lifting her from the floor and spinning her around. “My little Becky! How I’ve missed you!” He dropped her and frowned. “You’re too thin. Is The Villain starving you? Is that one of his methods?”

“Julius!” Renna scolded. “Show some sensitivity. Your daughter is quite worried for the man. He’s been taken to the Trench for judgment.”

Julius frowned, removing his gardening hat to reveal a thick head of shiny black hair. His brown skin was covered in sweat from the blaring sun’s heat. “Oh dear.” He whispered to her, “Could you get another job?”

Becky slapped her forehead, and she heard Roland groan into his hands. “No, Dad,” Becky said, looking to Evie, who was watching the scene, bewildered. “We’re going to err on the side of optimism and assume he will survive till supper.” She assuredher coworker, “Hewillsurvive, Evie. I’m certain of it.”

She wasn’t, but if there was one thing she couldn’t tolerate, it was Evie’s sadness. It was the equivalent of watching a baby deer be pushed down by a stiff wind: sad, helpless, and a little pathetic.

Renna’s head turned slowly toward Evie, and a small gasp escaped her lips. “Oh. It’s you. Oh, my dear.” Her mother was in front of Evie in seconds with her hands clasped around her cheeks. Evie looked too stunned to move, eyes darting to Becky’s. They seemed to say,What do I do?

Becky threw her hands up as if to reply,I don’t know!

“Um, hello, Lady Fortis,” Evie said with a shaky smile—one that didn’t reach her eyes. They were too spun with worry. “Do you, um… That is to say… You know who I am?”

Renna beamed, pushing one of Evie’s loose hairs back. “You have your mother’s curls. She told me you did, but it’s another thing entirely to see them upon your head.”

Evie softened, Becky’s mother melting her like butter left too close to the fire. Her mother often had that effect on people. Becky rolled her eyes.

“My mother?” Evie asked. “So, we were right. She’s here?”

Renna released Evie and took her hand, pulling her over to sit. “Archibald, would you go fetch Reid to update us on The Villain’s welfare for the daughter of my dearest friend?” Archibald followed the command posthaste, and her mother turned back to Evie with a sympathetic expression. “I wish I had better means to assist in the matter. The Fortis magic can be unruly and unpredictable at times. As much as we can manage it, it simply cannot be controlled completely. The Villain, I’m afraid, will be no exception to ancient destiny’s tests if he possesses the power he’s rumored to. But hope is not lost.”

She eyed Evie with calm curiosity. Becky’s mother had always been able to see through people, right to the core of theirfeelings; Becky had hated it as a child. She hated it even more now, watching it be used on someone so vulnerable. “I can see you care for him a great deal.”

Evie’s eyes watered. “I…I do.”

The door to the green room opened farther, and her grandmother, Ramona, was wheeled in by a footman, who bowed and promptly left the room. Her grandmother smiled wide, the high planes of her face lined and spotty. But she looked more lively than she had the last time Becky saw her.

Becky reached her in two strides, leaning down to plant a gentle kiss on Ramona’s wrinkled cheek. “I’m glad to see you up and about, Grandmother.”

Ramona Fortis was a spitfire with very little tolerance for nonsense. When she’d fallen ill, it had devastated the family so tremendously, it created tensions that never dissipated, opened wounds that never healed.

“You think a little magical illness can keep an old girl down?” Grandmother laughed, then coughed harshly into her arm. But her grandmother lightened the weight of the worried glances from everyone in the room by observing, “This illness is a bitch.”