Gideon
Gideon Sage had made several observations in his short time in Massacre Manor. The first was that The Villain’s office was run entirely different from the Valiant Guard’s. The Villain himself seemed to know everyone by name, what their job function was—almost like he cared. And unlike Benedict, the man didn’t walk around with a politician’s grin; instead, his face seemed stuck in a permanent scowl.
Unless, of course, Gideon’s sister was anywhere within his vicinity. That was Gideon’s second observation.
Gideon turned to address the two Malevolent Guards trailing behind him. “Might I wander the office without you two tailing me?”
“No, sir knight.” Keeley had golden skin that matched her honey-blond hair. She looked like the sun…that had descended to fry him to a crisp. She and Min had been his near-constant companions since his arrival, barring him from doing anything heroic. That was probably frowned upon here.
Min was shorter in stature, with raven hair cropped close to her head that emphasized the soft points of her face. It was obvious she was lethal, but she was also kind, which Gideon appreciated, since it seemed Keeley was liable to run him through with a knife at any moment.
Unless Evie did it first.
His sister flew away from her white wooden desk when she spotted him, eyes wide, her curls pinned away from her face, her anger perfectly visible. “Gideon! What in the deadlands are you doing out of your room again? Lyssa is up here!”
Gideon gave her a questioning look. “Should she be?” “Fool,” Keeley hissed behind him.
“Are you questioning how I care for our sister?” Evie narrowed her gaze, and he suddenly felt like a trapped rodent surrounded by hungry felines.
“No, of course not!” Gideon reassured, looking for a shovel to dig himself out of the hole he’d made.
A little girl came around the corner then, and the sight of her knocked the breath from his lungs. It was like looking directly at their mother. “You— I
— Hello.”
“You’re Gideon,” Lyssa stated, her small voice high and melodic as she stuck out a hand toward him. “I am Lyssa.”
Evie looked pointedly at Lyssa’s outstretched hand. Shake, she mouthed to him. So he did. “Yes, I know. We’ve met before.” His lips tugged upward as he clasped her small hand in his.
Lyssa tapped her chin. “True, but I was just a baby then, so it doesn’t really count.”
Gideon crouched down until he was eye level with his youngest sister. “Good point. I suppose this is our first real introduction.”
Lyssa regarded him carefully. “Evie said you lost your memory and that’s why you didn’t come home.”
Gideon nodded, noticing the dragon trainer hovering behind them, along with the healer, Tatianna, and another woman he didn’t recognize in very large glasses. All that was missing was— Never mind. The Villain wandered out of his office and leaned against the doorway, folding his arms and gazing at her in intense scrutiny. His sisters had a horde of protectors, and they all godsdamn terrified him.
Lyssa spoke again. “When did you get your memory back?”
Gideon was struck silent. He hadn’t expected such a direct question. Once he’d overcome his initial shock, he replied, “I suppose it was around…five years ago now?”
The little girl scrunched her nose and tugged at the end of her braid. “Then why didn’t you come back?”
Now he understood why he had finally been permitted out of his rooms. This was beginning to feel like an ambush, and not at all an undeserved one. “I think about that a lot, and I don’t really believe there is a very good reason. At the time, I felt like I couldn’t leave, and then I suppose I was too afraid to face all that I’d left behind.”
Lyssa’s curiosity turned to a glare. “Evie was afraid, too. She had to do everything by herself.” It felt worse than a knife to the gut.
“Lyssa,” Evie crooned, brushing back her braid. “It’s okay.”
Lyssa shook her head, and Gideon knew: his father’s betrayal, Evie’s
struggle to care for them—it was all his fault. Gods, when he’d found Evie in the woods, surrounded by knights, he’d thought it was his chance to redeem himself, to finally reunite with his family. How selfish he’d been to think that all those years could be forgotten merely because he wanted them to be. He despised Benedict, but not half as much as he despised himself just then.
“Sage, we need to depart,” The Villain said coolly. “Tatianna and Clare are coming along to investigate a lead on an enchantress to fix the manor’s defenses. In addition to the visible door, there’s now a second-floor window that can be clearly seen from the forest.” The man walked forward, past where Gideon knelt before Lyssa. “The horses have been saddled, and I want to get on the trail before the clock strikes ten.”
Evie nodded, looking like she pitied Gideon just a little before leaning down to Lyssa. “Go easy on him, Lyss. You are a fearsome adversary.”
“Wait,” Gideon called, feeling his heart race with desperation. “Where are you two going? Might I join?”
“No,” the Villain and Evie said in unison. They glanced at each other, then quickly looked away. “You will stay here,” the Villain added firmly.
Lyssa tugged on Gideon’s pants, capturing his full attention. “You can play with me while they’re gone.”
Gideon swallowed a surge of emotion. “That’s very kind of you, Lyssa. What shall we play?”
“Flying Guard,” Lyssa declared.
Gideon frowned, as did Evie, while the Villain stiffened. “How do you play that?” Gideon asked.
“You jump off the roof! I saw one of the guards do it this morning!” Lyssa said with enthusiasm. Gideon wasn’t sure whether to laugh or panic as he realized that guard must have been plummeting to his death.
But Evie had no such confusion. She spun around and smacked the Villain on the shoulder. “What did you do?” she whispered furiously.
The Villain actually looked… sheepish? What had his sister done to this poor man?
“He was making the other guards uncomfortable. I don’t mind cruelty, except when it’s careless.”
“Who was it?” Evie hissed.
“Damien,” Keeley interjected from behind them. “Ms. Sage, I assure you, it’s no great loss. In fact, it’s rather fortunate.”
Evie sighed, shutting her eyes tightly. “Luna!” she called out, and a pixie with purple wings paused mid-flight. “Can you reset the incident board to zero?”
They had an incident board for the boss’s kills? Of his own staff? The Villain grumbled, “That’s hardly fair. Damien wasn’t an intern.”
“Hush!” Evie scolded. “Tati, Clare? Are you ready?”
Tatianna winked at Gideon, giving his shoulder a pat as she passed, sending a chill down his spine. “I deal in secrets, sir knight, and I sense you’re holding quite a few. I wouldn’t wait too long to reveal them.”
Gideon tried to swallow the lump in his throat at the truth of her words. He could have told Lyssa and Evie about their father’s manipulation of him, how Griffin and the king had used Gideon’s magic to hurt their mother.
It was that blind trust in the adults around him that had torn his family apart. He glanced at Lyssa. Tatianna was right; his mind was full of secrets, like traps waiting to spring.
Secrets that could bring down an empire, if he chose to use them.
And maybe he would.
But not yet.
The Villain’s voice cut through Gideon’s thoughts. “Gushiken and Ms. Erring are in charge. We’ll be back by day’s end!”
Ms. Erring, the woman with the round glasses, seemed to take charge as Blade bumped her shoulder with a grin.
“You’re not qualified to oversee anything, you buffoon. I’m in charge,” she sniffed.
Blade chuckled, but Gideon’s attention was caught by a large green frog hopping after the departing group, wearing a tiny crown on its head.
“This is a very strange place,” Gideon said, astonished.
Ms. Erring crossed her arms and grumbled, “You don’t know the half of it.”
