Page 20 of Accomplice to the Villain

Becky didn’t look up, but her lip curled slightly. A sure sign that Evie had barged through her friend’s defenses. “I certainly don’t have the pay grade to stop you.”

Evie folded her arms over her cinched bodice, leaning back in her chair and throwing a wink at Edwin—their office chef and dear friend enjoyed eavesdropping far more than most ogres of Evie’s acquaintance. “I thought you said you were paid best in the office, Becky.”

Rebecka Erring, or—if one knew her better—Rebecka Eriania Fortis, stiffened, her attention flickering to Edwin. “Next to Edwin, of course, and unfortunately, there aren’t work benefits in the world to bid me to stop you from striking someone. My new office included.” Becky shuddered, likely at the thought of losing a well-deserved space of her own, and adjusted her glasses farther up her nose.

Edwin Benington laughed as he stirred the cauldron brew with a large ladle and dropped a refill into both Evie’s and Becky’s ceramic chalices. The nutty aroma was an instant comfort, as was the warmth the chalice brought to Evie’s chilled hands. “I do not think you are the very first to want to strike Trystan, Miss Evie.”

Evie took a bracing sip, the bitterness from the brew sitting on the back of her tongue and livening her senses. “Yes, but might I be the first who wants to do it with a frying pan?”

Edwin looked up thoughtfully, considering. His glasses were no longer too small for his face. Lyssa had ensured the ogre finally had a pair that sat more comfortably atop his blue nose. “Someone threw a soup pot at him once.”

Evie’s ears perked up, and she sat straighter in her seat. “Was there soup in it?”

Edwin frowned. “No.”

“Could there be?” Evie steepled her hands together, smiling gleefully.

“No,” Becky said without looking up. “Edwin isn’t wasting a whole pot of soup on a joke.”

Evie glared, huffing out a breath. “It wouldn’t be a joke.”

“Edwin! The new yellow sparkles arrived!” Lyssa plowed into the kitchens with reckless abandon and with enough energy that you would never know she’d spent an hour crying in Evie’s arms that morning. Nura had fled to her bedchamber, allowing Lyssa the space to recover.

So much pain. It seemed to be all their family was made of these days.

And Evie knew that for their mother, there was no greater pain than disappointing a child you thought you could protect. It was why Evie was grateful for the family they’d found in the offices, for how this group had accepted Lyssa as one of their own, anticipating her little sister’s needs. Evie had never thought of Lyssa as a burden, but it was nice…to have people to share her with.

Edwin seemed to agree, taking Lyssa’s news of the sparkles’ arrival as if she’d told him that the sky was raining gold and chocolate. “That’s wondrous, Miss Lyssa! We must retrieve them at once!”

Lyssa squealed and clapped, running over on her tiptoes, giving Evie a gentle kiss on the cheek and then repeating the sweet gesture with Becky. To the shock of all of them, Becky accepted it with a small smile.

“Not too many sweets while you’re baking.” Becky pointed a finger at Lyssa.

Lyssa grinned and sprinted after Edwin. “I’ll wait until after we’re done, then!”

Becky shook her head while pushing herself up slowly to stand. “The familial relation between the two of you was never in question, but if it were, her conniving wordplay would prove it.”

Evie saluted before sipping another large gulp of her brew. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

Becky flicked Evie’s head as she walked past her to return to the mountains of paperwork after the morning’s events. “You would.”

“Are they rebuilding the window?” Evie asked.

Becky shrugged. “Probably. They’ve done it before.”

Evie frowned. “I don’t recall any previously broken windows.”

Becky shook her head, loose, silky brown locks falling from her normally very tight bun. “I meant that the windows have been reconstructed. They used to depict happy things before the boss took over the manor. When he had them replaced, the artist used the glass that was already there. Just rearranged the bits. The boss hates waste.”

The severed heads in the entry doubling as decor pieces were making more and more sense every day.

Becky headed for the door. “Are you coming?”

Evie fiddled with the end of one of her curls. “I’ll be up in a minute.”

Becky didn’t speak again as her footsteps faded away, leaving Evie alone in the silence. She normally detested silence, but as of late, she couldn’t help but relish in it. Her life was louder than ever, as were her thoughts, and it was in these very few moments of peace that she allowed herself to wallow. Properly.

Feeling sorry for oneself took up a ridiculous amount of time, and she hadn’t had nearly enough to do it lately. The past two weeks had been spent juggling out-of-control feelings, plans to steal back the pregnant female guvre after the king’s men stole the animal away during the battle, and, of course, searching for the fourth item in the prophecy to save Rennedawn’s magic. It mattered not if they had every object in their arsenal (which they didn’t). Without the knowledge of that fourth piece, Rennedawn would continue to descend into darkness. Dying magic and all.