Apprentice to the Villain (Assistant to the Villain, #2)

by Hannah Nicole Maehrer

She was afraid, but she knew now: fear usually meant you were standing on the edge of something new, something self-altering, something potentially good. Fear was not something she would shy away from ever again.

Nodding demurely, she responded, “Too true, Your Majesty. I am nothing compared to the men you have in your service, nor the noblemen at your command.” She made a show of scanning the crowd and tapping her chin twice. “I find it impressive that you should know so very many people, that you should facilitate such devotion. It makes me wonder, however, if you might know my favorite distinction between your Valiant Guards and The Villain’s Malevolent.” The king noticed her slowly inching backward with a satisfied gleam in his eye. “You’re stalling, Ms. Sage. But I’ll humor you before I send you to the gallows. My guards fight for the good of the kingdom. The Villain’s guards fight for its destruction.” “An important distinction, to be sure!” She leaned in and whispered her next words for only the king to hear. “But I was referring to the fact that a majority of those who make up the Malevolent Guard are women.” She watched the king slowly piece together her words but didn’t allow him to finish before lighting her final match. “Are you certain you know everyone in this room?” Satisfaction sang through her blood as the king’s wide eyes darted around in dawning horror. Evie rocked back, another flower slipping from her hair as she spun toward the onlookers. Tatianna appeared from the throngs like a vision, the pink sash around her green gown marking her as real in a sea of falsity. Winking at Evie, Tati pulled a pocket light from within the folds of her dress, shaking the cannis...

He had to break free of his binds, had to get to her. Alive. Sage was alive. She appeared then, stumbling through a litter of bodies, tripping on the hem of her dress. A wave of tenderness came over him through the fierceness igniting his bloodstream, his battling emotions of rage and relief making him feel wild as his starving eyes took her in. Rosy cheeks, bloodred lips, wild black curls. Mine.

Suddenly, she hated the scrap of fabric of his mask; it was merely a means to keep him from her. She reached up a hand but halted—there were still guards in the room, even a few stray nobles, some watching them from their hiding places. She couldn’t reveal him here; they’d have to wait until they were— “Do it.” His words were so resolute, her eyes widened in shock, her mouth gaping open like a fish. “You think I would allow you to reveal yourself to the public in such a way and not do the same for you?” he asked. Her chest rose and fell in rapid succession as she desperately tried not to read into the words. “Sir, really. There’s no need to feel guilty—I’m a nobody; my name means nothing. Come, we must leave at—” His words were angrier this time. “Do it. Or I will.” She knew his threats well enough to know when they were sincere. Which meant there was no point in arguing any further. He urged, “Unmask me, Evangelina.” It was impossible to not be moved by the low caress of his voice, like fingers gliding up her bare back. She was human, she had a pulse, and it beat in the worst way for someone it very much was not supposed to. Slowly, she reached up, fingers nearly stilling when she felt his body tense at the brush of her touch. But instead of stilling, she was spurred to move faster. She removed the mask, letting it slip through her fingers until it landed soundlessly on the floor, his face bare. Familiar and beautiful. Relief and comfort eased the tightness in her chest. ...

“Fear not, Ms. Sage. Despite your betrayal, I will take kind care of your mother when my knights bring her into my custody.” Her hand tightened on Trystan’s, and her light eyes narrowed into slits. The king didn’t heed the warning in her stare; vitriol continued to spill from his lips. “When a parent abandons a child, it always makes me wonder: Was it the parent’s shortcoming”—the king grinned—“or the child’s?” Bastard. But Sage put her chin up. “When a knight is willing to betray his king, it always makes me wonder: Was it the knight’s shortcoming”—now her brows raised in satisfaction—“or the king’s?”

“There they are!” The guards burst from the trees, but she was already moving, quicker without the threat of her hem tangling about her feet. She kept going, sprinting faster, her hair whipping around her, some pieces sticking to her face as grass stuck to the bottom of her thin slippers. The ravine’s edge appeared on the horizon. So close. Blood pumped hard through her veins as she pounded against the soft grass, surprised when she turned to find the boss doing the same beside her. His legs were longer, his body lither; he could move faster if he wanted to. But just like the first time they met, he slowed to keep pace with her. She swallowed the lump in her throat, grabbing his hand as they inched closer and closer to the edge. There was only the merest hint of hesitation in his voice as he said, “Are we going over, then?” He would follow her off a cliff without question. And Evie knew she was in love with him. Right then, right there.

He gaped. “Yes. Why on earth did you think it was dirty?” Marvelous. Now all the blood in her body was racing upward. Her face was on fire. “I, um…I suppose the kissing and the…caves might have given that impression.” There was no emotion in his voice when he said, “Does your mind live in the gutter?” She shook her head, tapping a finger against her lips. “No, but it rents there on occasion.”

“You know as well as I, Trystan Maverine, that humans demonize what they cannot understand. It isn’t our job to educate them, just to live the way we’re meant to with the knowledge that being called a monster does not make you one.”

“Sometimes family isn’t a thing we are born into but a choice we make. Sometimes”—Evie smiled—“the people who love you most in your life are the ones who choose you.” It was saying it out loud that made Evie realize how fiercely she believed it.

“I am a terror many try to hide. I am a secret that no one will find. I am only used by the brave. When issued properly, I will save. I am the source of everyone’s strife. If you wield me wrong, I will cut like a knife. What am I?”

“The answer is the truth.” Trystan moved in front of Sage, gripping her shoulders to get a look at her face, because that was— “Correct. Well done, Evangelina.” Ellia smiled warmly. Tatianna shook her head in disbelief. “How did you know?” Sage shrugged carelessly. “When you’ve been lied to so often, the truth becomes easier to discern.”

“You have a lovely family.” It wasn’t a haphazard comment; it was a genuine compliment. This was one of the most marvelous mysteries about Sage—that she so readily handed out praise but it was always so specific. Like she found her favorite part of every person she came across and then presented it to them. It made him

charged after her. “You think I do not care? As if thoughts of you and your well-being don’t plague me daily. Nightly. Every second we are apart! I watched you die! I thought I’d never see you again! I have never known such darkness, and I never wish to again. If you think that makes me overbearing, so be it. But do not ever claim I do not care about you. You are wiser than that, Evie. Do not be a fucking fool.”

Love shriveled and disappeared differently, sometimes slowly, sometimes quickly, but she realized now that it was the most brutal, the most painful, when it was abandoned.

“Or you can take a visit to our lovely torture chambers. It is, of course, included in your stay with us. We’re known for our…amenities.”