Gideon
The office had returned to its usual disarray at a rapid rate. Or at least Gideon assumed the disarray was usual. He hadn’t borne witness to any other kind of office function. His mother had been glued to his side for the last seven days, taking the most careful, tentative steps with Lyssa.
Who seemed very keen on evading her. Something their mother was putting on a brave face for, but Gideon could see the pain at not having been there to watch her children grow up. At missing the things she should’ve been a part of. Only time would mend such hurts. Only new memories could soothe away the loss of the old ones.
Evie and The Villain were avoiding each other the way mermaids avoided ships, only sparing each other passing glances anytime they were within ten feet of each other. That bubbling pot would hit a boil fairly quickly, but Gideon didn’t dare say that to either of them.
Keeley had gone back to her usual glares, which suited Gideon just fine, as the woman was far too prickly for his tastes. Any sense of rightness he’d felt embracing her or fighting alongside her had merely been due to a rush of adrenaline. It had already passed, and he hardly noticed her—even now, when she was walking toward him with a murderous expression on her lovely face. She slapped a scrap of paper down onto Evie’s desk, which Evie let her brother use while she was doing inventory—of spiderwebs, most likely.
“Do I look like an errand girl to you?” Keeley rolled her eyes and crossed her arms, her ridiculously thick braid swaying behind her. He was surprised she didn’t topple over from the weight of it.
Gideon contemplated her, tapping his chin. “I don’t know. They wear silly little hats, don’t they? Put one on. Let’s find out.”
“I hope the dragon eats you,” she sneered. “Clean up your own scraps of
paper, sir knight.” Then she turned and walked away with ground-eating strides. He was surprised and annoyed to find himself staring after her retreating curved form.
Then he looked down at the page he’d torn in haste from Rennedawn’s Story and smuggled to Evie alongside their mother’s letters. The glowing seal at the top was a sign of the book’s power. He read the words over again, hoping the fourth object might come to him if he thought hard enough.
The person who saves the magical lands will take fate’s youngling well in hand; when fate and starlight magic fall together, the land will belong to you forever. But beware the unmasked Villain and their malevolent dark, for nothing is more dangerous than a blackened good heart…
A confused grin pulled on his lips, something persistent tugging at his mind.
He read the line again, this time aloud. “But beware the unmasked Villain and their malevolent dark, for nothing is more dangerous than a blackened good heart.”
And then it hit him.
His eyes widened, heart pounding with dread as he peered down at the words in disbelief.
Gideon had been relegated off to the corner of the king’s ballroom all those weeks ago, pushed there by the other guards and quietly panicking as he watched King Benedict’s taunts and The Villain’s desperation. He’d stared at the glass casket that held his sister and feared that Evie wouldn’t awaken, that he would be too late with the antidote.
But she had awoken.
And she had revealed herself to the entire room. To the kingdom. To the world.
Gideon felt the dread pool like ice in his belly. He could sense it now, how everything was about to change.
Trystan—The Villain—hadn’t been the only one revealed to all the world at the king’s ill-fated event.
Evie had, too.
Gideon sucked in a breath. She’d been…unmasked.
The End.
Until we meet again…
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The love doesn’t end here…
