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August 13 - August 15, 2025
The Villain didn’t miss light. He missed color.
He wished to find Sage. He wished to tell her he was sorry. He wished to be better about revealing how he felt, bit by bit. And perhaps, most importantly—he wished to have a godsforsaken tea party with her little sister, Lyssa.
Sage, Evie, the woman who owned the entirety of his blackened, tattered heart, was well and truly gone.
“I must say this role suits you, Benedict.” The king narrowed his eyes. “What role?” He curled his lip, knowing the effect his words would have. “Why, that of the villain.”
“What a remarkable young woman,” he heard Arthur say breathlessly. He didn’t look away from her, just stared ahead before coolly replying, “An understatement, I assure you.”
“It is fiction for a reason, you menace. By the gods, what if you carried out every impossible act you read about?” It was a rhetorical question, but she couldn’t resist the urge to slip into the normal ease of their cadence, like no time had passed. “Oh, I suppose that I would need to become very, um—flexible.”
“Hello, evil overlord.” The Villain did not cry; she knew this. But she also knew that for the rest of her life, if she got to grow old, wasting away in a bed, recounting her adventures of working for the darkest figure in the land, she would swear to herself, even then, that she saw The Villain’s black eyes glisten.
He would follow her off a cliff without question. And Evie knew she was in love with him. Right then, right there.
Trystan’s tentative to-do list early the next morning was as follows: 1. Bathe. 2. Get a report on all he’d missed while he was gone. 3. Avoid thinking about Sage’s thighs. 4. Murder Gushiken.
“There is nothing written in any text, gods-created or not, that says we cannot be more than one thing. You’ve been told for a very long time that you are made for destruction, but there is nothing that says you cannot be more. You can be capable of bad and do good. You can do good things and still be bad. Nothing is set in stone, and if it helps, I’ll stand by you no matter who you choose to be.”
“Does your mind live in the gutter?” She shook her head, tapping a finger against her lips. “No, but it rents there on occasion.”
“She scared the wits out of me when she first brought the thing in, sir. But she made a nice, clean cut, just the way you do. A quick study, our Evie.”
“You want to fulfill Rennedawn’s Story, Trystan Maverine?” His stomach dropped into his shoes at his name on the creature’s lips. Before he could inquire as to how the creature knew who he was, it grinned, marbled teeth shining as it said words that rattled him down to his misplaced soul. “It took you long enough.”
She’d done it; she’d flipped a hero to their side. Next she was going to ask the sun and the moon to host a dinner party together…and she’d likely be successful.
“I was checking on the female guvre, but it’s difficult for me to get close without the male freaking out and getting violent.” The dragon trainer hesitated, smirking at Trystan before saying, “You know what that’s like, don’t you, boss?”
“There are two cures to the sleeping-death fruit; everyone knows that.” He shook his head. “The other is a myth, a lie we push for children’s stories. It’s positively evil, even for me.”
“I can say with the utmost assurance”—his eyes raked over her, and she stopped breathing—“when given the privilege, I have no issue performing.”
“Welcome back, conquering heroes!” Gideon grinned, looking far too at home in an office he’d not been at yet a week, but he shrank when he saw the boss’s glare. “Or conquering…villains? I’ll stop talking.”
She is your employee, he thought desperately. But his heart shortened it. She is yours.
“I can’t imagine that.” “What?” she said as they arrived in front of the door. “Not noticing you.”
This is, quite honestly, the worst game of tag ever played.
“At what risk would my vulnerable areas be if I offered to do this in your stead?”
“After I recover from the carriage wheels I’ve been thrown under, shall I continue?”
“Sage, I hope I didn’t give you the mistaken impression that I enjoy company in my chambers.” She replied with teasing amusement, “Sir, you’re doing push-ups alone at four o’clock in the afternoon. Nobody would get that impression.”
“Rats! The first rule of villainy: never leave evidence behind.” Evie’s boss smothered a laugh beside her. She gave him an incredulous look, and the laughter died. He was serious when he said, “She’s correct. Though it is on occasion permitted to leave a calling card.”
“I would sooner take the scraps she lay at my feet,” he stated, “than commit myself to a cheap imitation.”
“Sage?” She stood at attention. “Yes, sir?” “Don’t apologize to the ancient monster, if you please.”
“He’s like a teddy bear that got hold of a kitchen knife.”
I’m certain one couldn’t find someone more difficult to love.” “I didn’t find it difficult at all,” Sage whispered.
He was dumbstruck in love with her. Shit, shit, shit.
“You threw a finger at me?” “A middle one.”
“No more attempts at saving my life, Sage. As it stands, those acts of misguided bravery seem to be ticking years off my life rather than tacking them on.”
“If you’re wondering if this is a healthy way of dealing with your emotions, boss, let me clear it up for you. It’s not.”
“I can hardly cut a man’s eyeball out after hearing that. You’ve ruined the mood.”
He used to be able to keep track of the few people he cared about with one hand; at this rate, he’d have to expand to…two? Odious.
You were always supposed to meet Evie Sage, Trystan Maverine. Just as Evie Sage is meant to be your downfall, and you her undoing.
Beware the wrath of a kind heart.
