Evie
Night had fallen on Massacre Manor once again. The Malevolent Guards were all recovering, as was the office—the damage from the fire and the battle was being repaired to restore the manor’s former glory.
“Maybe we should go in there,” Tatianna said warily, kicking out a stiletto boot, arms folded across her chest as she cocked an ear toward the door.
“Give him a chance! It sounds like it’s going well,” Blade said with an optimistic gleam in his eye.
Crash.
Gideon and Evie shared a glance before Gideon nodded toward the room and gave her a look that said, Get in there.
Evie grimaced and lightly pushed against the door. “Perhaps I’ll just make sure everything—”
The door slammed open, nearly knocking into her head.
And what they saw on the other side— Blade gripped her arm to keep himself from falling over. “How quickly do you think we could get a portrait artist in here?” he asked.
No artist could ever do the scene justice; there was simply too much to capture.
Standing in the doorway of Evie and Lyssa’s chambers was The Villain, face reddened with anger. The color was a contrast to the large pink hat that sat atop his head, feathers coming out of it from every direction. He looked like a deranged pink chicken. Kingsley sat upon his shoulder, crown still perched on his small green brow, but it was now paired with a tiny handkerchief fastened into a dress.
Evie bit her lip so hard she tasted blood. “That’s, uh…a good look for you, sir,” she said, sounding strangled, stepping forward and reaching up to pluck a fallen feather from his shoulder.
He gave her a warning glance as he loomed over her, pointing what was meant to be a threatening finger in her face. “Be careful, Sage.” He seemed to remember himself and moved away as quickly as possible. It stung.
“Lord Trystan! The tea is almost ready. Please return to the table at once!” Lyssa ordered from inside the room.
Edwin came around the corner of the corridor. His new glasses were a perfect fit against his nose, and Evie thought he stood a little prouder for it as he handed Trystan a tray of artfully decorated pastries.
“Thank you, Edwin,” Trystan said quietly.
Edwin’s smile stretched wide as he tipped a blue hand in salute. “Only the best for Lady Lyssa and Lord Trystan’s tea party. Is this enough?”
Trystan nodded, inspecting each one with careful attention and focus that made Evie feel like the butterflies in her stomach were trying to make their way up her throat. “These will do nicely.”
He took the tray from Edwin’s hands and returned to the room. Edwin made to leave, and Evie called after him. “Edwin, I’m sorry, I never thanked you for making up a plate for me when I slept through dinner. It was delicious.” She grinned. “Some of your best work. I meant to tell you sooner.”
Edwin turned, face softened, glancing at where Trystan had been standing. He spoke slowly, as if he were trying to make her understand something. “I didn’t make any plates, Miss Evie.”
She shut her eyes tight, sucking in a breath as his meaning struck her. Her smile was sad, she knew, because her eyes burned.
Shaking the thoughts away—all of them—she entered the room, giving Blade a look of amused censure when he tried to follow before she shut the door. Lyssa sat in the middle of the bedchambers at a small table with even smaller chairs. She had no idea where Trystan would’ve scrounged up such a thing, or if he’d had someone go out and retrieve it specifically for this purpose, and she wasn’t certain which would defeat her heart more.
Everything he did now was dangerous. But he was pulling away from her; she felt it.
Don’t give your heart to the boss, Evie! Too fucking late.
What an ill-fated pair the two of them were. She was so lost in that bittersweet ache, she was jarred when Lyssa screeched at Trystan, who had his teacup halfway to his lips. “No, Lord Trystan! You must pour for Miss
Halliway first!”
He furrowed his brow adorably in confusion, his face such a comfort to her. It took all of Evie’s will not to lean forward and kiss him. “Who is Miss Halliway?” he asked. It was Kingsley who lifted a foot and pointed to the doll seated in the chair with a rather frightening expression plastered on her porcelain face.
“Oh.”
This was it. This was the line he’d draw; Evie was sure of it. He’d humored Lyssa this long—she’d give him the credit. The pain of betrayal and loss might never be gone, but at least her sister had been thoroughly assured that she was safe, treasured, and loved. Evie started to move toward the table to give her own attention to Miss Halliway, both to protect Lyssa’s feelings and to spare her boss the painful awkwardness, but she was stopped…
As Trystan Maverine, Evil Overlord, in his large, ridiculously frilly hat, picked up the flowery teapot and poured the tea, saying with a sternness that made her heart twist all over again, “My sincerest apologies, Miss Halliway. I usually have better manners.”
By the gods, she loved him.
She loved his smile and his rare laughter. She loved that in one moment he could be fiercely protective and in the next he could be soft and unsure. She loved that he understood her, perhaps better than anyone she’d ever known, that he made her importance known without placation. That he’d given her a reason to wake up in the morning, a reason to rush to get ready—not only to get to work (though she loved her work) but to get to him. There could never be another person in the whole of the world she could feel this way about.
And then she remembered his words:
We should keep our distance.
As if he could sense her thoughts, he turned to her, his expression grim. “Sage, I’ve been meaning to tell you. Along with your promotion, I’ve had your desk moved to the alcove with all the windows until we can build you a proper office.”
She blinked in surprise. The alcove was beautiful, bright, and spacious—and possibly the farthest spot from his office. The distance had already begun. It might have hurt more if she hadn’t noticed that, despite getting his way, he looked like he’d just swallowed a thousand tiny shards of glass.
Something had happened. Something with the destiny monster—something he wasn’t telling her. She’d find out, though, because if there was one thing she could salvage from all the pain, it was this. It was them.
And she was done not fighting for what she wanted.
She gazed at him with pity. “You’ll regret that choice, I think.”
He shot her a glare before turning back to his tea. “I never regret anything.”
“Hmm,” she replied with a wicked smile. “Then I suppose I’ll just have to make you.”
His shock was so palpable he nearly dropped the teapot as he placed it back on the table with a clatter.
Lyssa didn’t notice, too focused on tipping a teacup to Miss Halliway’s lips.
His dark eyes found Evie’s. He licked his lips before speaking, and the heat in his gaze made her blood race. “You— I must have misheard you. What?”
It wasn’t a game; the confusion was real. But he’d heard her, just wasn’t prepared for it. He wanted to run from her so fast, she could practically see smoke rising from his heels.
She didn’t repeat herself, just looked at him with fond exasperation. This was the first crack in his defenses, the first of many. “You heard me fine.”
His whispered response was pained, his eyes filled with surprise, bewilderment, and fear that made her heart ache. “Do not start this, Sage.”
She gently placed a hand over his, a spark jolting up her arm at the contact. He flinched under her touch but didn’t pull away as he usually would. Instead, he sucked in a breath, his gaze locked on her as she said, “No need to worry, Your Evilness. It’s already begun.”
He was terrified.
She recalled a wish she’d made on a star not long ago and how it had come true. How the star had answered her… The thought tugged at something in her mind, something important.
“I love this plate! It’s such a funny shape,” Lyssa said innocently.
Evie had let Lyssa have the odd, dark crystal slab their mother had left behind. All signs of magic were gone, if they had ever existed. But it brought joy to her little sister. The shape was funny, Evie admitted—and somehow familiar.
Lyssa dropped the plate and frowned at the sugar bowl. “We’re out of sugar!”
The Villain’s face flashed with panic before he composed himself, his expression neutral. Clearing his throat, he said, “I believe we’ve added enough to our tea.”
Lyssa pouted. “But the table doesn’t look as cute!” Her brown eyes lit up as she pulled a vial of her mother’s stardust from her pocket. “We’ll use this!”
“Lyssa, don’t!” Evie called, frantic at the thought of losing that last piece of their mother. But it was too late—in her rush to stop her sister, she startled her instead; Lyssa dropped the vial, and it shattered on the oddly shaped crystal.
The room suddenly blazed with light.
Lyssa screamed, and Evie did too as Trystan pulled them both to the ground, shielding them with his arms. “What happened?” he yelled as the light dimmed.
Evie was the first to open her eyes, scrambling to her feet to inspect the table and the crystal slab. It glowed brightly—but not brightly enough. “Sir, do we still have that bit of stardust from the caves?”
He nodded, helping Lyssa to her feet before pulling a small vial from around his neck. “There’s barely a thimbleful left.” He uncorked it and sprinkled the dust onto the jagged slab. It glowed, vibrant and complete, shifting from a dark, opaque nothingness to—
Midnight, with one bright star at its center. Lyssa peered at it. “It looks like a piece of the sky.”
A piece of the sky. It hit Evie all at once. Every clue along their journey to find her mother had been right in front of her.
The daughter of wishing stars.
She wanted to be swallowed by midnight. Your mother’s starlight enveloped her.
Oh gods.
I have no name…by natural law, I can take none. Wanting to be no one.
Harvested from the stars themselves.
The words and fragments clicked into place. Goosebumps rose on Evie’s arms as she knocked over a small chair, pacing as one more defiant thought echoed in her mind.
I hope you will return to see them.
She finally understood why the shape of the slab was so familiar.
A large hand rested on her shoulder, and she turned to face Trystan. “The daughter of wishing stars,” she whispered. “We have to go to the caves. I’ll explain on the way.”
His eyes widened, shock and curiosity swirling in their depths. “All right. Let’s go,” he said, urgently removing his tea party attire and carefully placing it on the table beside Lyssa. Evie’s heart warmed at his immediate trust.
Lyssa was incredulous, of course. “Why are you taking my plate? And what about our party?”
Evie knelt to her sister’s level. Kingsley hopped up beside them, holding a sign with a question mark on it. She gently cupped Lyssa’s cheek. “I promise Lord Trystan will have a tea party with you at least once a week from now until the end of time. But we have to end it early today, and I need to take this.”
Lyssa was confused but seemed satisfied with the promise. She took a bite of a teacake and said, “Okay!”
When Evie finally looked up at her boss, the urgency had faded from his movements. He was just staring at her with an expression she couldn’t decipher. He cleared his throat, emotions unreadable on his face. “I’m following you, Sage.”
She nodded, and they hurried into the hallway, where the others lingered, eager for another glimpse of the boss in his finery. “Blade, how soon can you have Fluffy ready?” Evie asked.
Blade looked surprised but quickly set his face in determination. “Ten minutes, maybe fifteen. Why? Where are we going?”
Gideon’s eyes searched her face. “Eve?”
“Ready him now, Gushiken,” Trystan commanded, lifting Kingsley onto his shoulder, looking prepared to fight on her behalf.
Blade was gone in a flash.
Gideon caught her arm as Evie started to follow. “Evie, please. What’s happened?”
She took her brother’s hands, speaking with as much gentleness as she could muster. “I know where our mother is.”
