Assistant to the Villain

The storm cleared the next morning, as she suspected it would.

The creature’s vengeful magic had run dry—he was reunited with his mate and the clouds had gone.

Evie stared at the mirror, seeing herself in a borrowed dress of Tatianna’s. It had been a little too large when she’d first put it on, but as soon as the buttons up the back were secured, the bodice slowly tightened around her until the dress fit like a second skin.

“Well, that’s a fun trick,” Evie said, inspecting the blue velvet in the large mirror on the other side of the healer’s quarters.

“I got it from a magicked dressmaker when I was visiting a friend in Verdelana.” Tatianna smiled, walked over, and turned Evie’s hands to inspect under the bandages. “All the best magic comes from the south. He said a dress should be worn to fit you, not the other way around.”

“So, no matter what…?”

“It’ll always fit like a glove.” Tatianna narrowed her eyes, clearly looking at the dark circles underneath Evie’s. “Did you sleep at all?”

“A little. Your extra bed was comfortable.” And it had been. Evie’s hands had just ached, even after Tatianna had worked every bit of magic on them. Growing back skin in places where blisters had formed was no small task, and in some areas Tatianna had admitted they were so badly damaged, it would take several magic sessions to fully heal. For those areas, Tatianna applied a salve, but Evie refused a bandage of any sort, in case The Villain were to notice the damage and ask questions.

She’d seen his reactions to her being harmed before, and the last thing Evie wanted or needed was for him to begin to think that she was incapable.

So she’d barely slept.

Of course, the healer did all that after forcing the entire story out of Evie as payment. Including the fact that she’d hidden her ruined hands, by some miracle, from her boss at the time of the injury.

The clanking of glass snapped Evie’s attention back to Tatianna, who was already at her worktable, crunching leaves and all sorts of funny-looking plants into jars. “What’s it like? Living with him?”

Tatianna snorted and continued working, the sun just beginning to come up over the horizon. “I wouldn’t say I live with him. I only ever see Trystan in the office or on the rare occasions his wounds need tending. If I desire company, I go to the nearest pub and find myself a beautiful woman to pass the time with.”

“What about Clare?” Evie said slyly, ignoring the daggers Tatianna glared at her over her bowl of herbs. “It seemed like things might not be finished there.”

“Oh, they’re finished,” she grumbled, mashing the herbs harder than before. “She made sure of that.”

“I think you’d feel better if you talked about it,” Evie said in a singsong voice, ducking when Tatianna chucked a spoon at her.

“I deal in secrets, darling. I don’t give them away for free.”

“Even to a friend?” Evie asked, a little vulnerability slipping through.

Tatianna huffed, but then her face softened. “Oh dear. We are friends, aren’t we? How did I let this happen?”

“Because I’m irresistible.” Evie spun around, running her fingers through her hair, laughing when she nearly lost her balance.

“Oh yes, that must be it.” Tatianna smiled.

“Well?” Evie urged, nodding to the small clock on the table. She still had twenty minutes before the boss would expect his first cauldron brew of the day on his desk, and in truth, she was eager to hear about how the two animals in the cellar were faring. “I’ve got time.”

“It’s a long story.” Tatianna groaned, like talking about her personal life was an offense against her character. “The short version is, I grew up down the road from the three Maverine siblings. Clare and I were inseparable ever since we were children.”

Evie’s eyes widened, both delighted and a little flabbergasted at what this development meant. “Does that mean…you knew The Villain—I mean Trystan—” She didn’t know why, but she’d never once thought of her boss as anything other than being born fully grown.

“Yes. I knew Trystan since we were very young.” Tatianna shifted, looking uncharacteristically uncomfortable in her own skin. Like she was unsure of herself. “It’s not really something I should be talking about with you.”

Sighing and dragging a chair closer to sit right across from the healer, Evie said, “How many of my secrets do you know?”

“You get hurt a lot, so…many,” she said apprehensively.

“So,” Evie pressed. “Don’t you think you owe me at least one? Friend?” She said the last word with wounded innocence in her eyes.

Tatianna groaned again and put her head in her hands. “You are a conniving little manipulator.” She pulled her head up, looking at Evie with a disbelieving smile. “You’ve been here too long.”

“Oh please, we’re just getting to the good part.” Evie grinned, leaning forward, and gestured for Tatianna to continue.

“What do you want to know?” A wicked look crossed the healer’s face, followed by a quirk of her brow. “Why do you want to know?”

The quickening beat of Evie’s heart was certainly just because it made her uncomfortable to be scrutinized so directly.

“Who wouldn’t?” Evie rationalized. “It’s hard to picture that man as anything but that…uh…man.” Why is it suddenly so hot in here? She stood up and walked toward the windows, pushing one out until fresh, cool air brushed against her warm cheeks. “I mean, was he always so…” She weighed her words before turning back toward Tatianna, who finished for her.

“Brooding? Grumpy? Terrible at feeling and exhibiting normal human emotions?”

“Yes.” Evie nodded.

“To which?” Tatianna asked, a confused look passing over her face.

“Yes,” Evie repeated flatly.

Standing up from her chair, Tatianna walked toward the door of the quarters. “If you must know anything, know he was hard to read even then. He always kept to himself, always doing his best to keep any attention off him.”

Evie stared, absorbing every word like precious nutrients, as the healer continued. “He had a quiet kindness to him, though.” Tatianna smiled then. “He never was around much when I would come to be with Clare. He was a few years older, so I always thought it was because he didn’t want two annoying little girls bothering him.”

“But?” Evie asked, sensing the word before it was spoken.

“But on my tenth birthday, my mother had a party for me. My healing magic had shown up a year before, when I’d nearly been crushed by a passing carriage. Everyone was thrilled; they thought I could be a core healer.”

Evie couldn’t believe the absurdity because, from her meager understanding, core healers were so rare, they were practically myth. It was normal for magic to be ignited in someone by something painful, but very rare for that person to have healer’s magic—much less core magic. But that was what core healers were. They could heal minds, bodies; some said they could heal your very soul to your core.

A myth, she thought.

Tatianna continued. “Clare and Malcolm were my dearest friends, but it suddenly felt like I was a toy everyone wanted to play with.

“My mother had made my party an open invitation, so hundreds of people were there to witness my magic being born. It was terrible. I was dragged around by my arm throughout the entire party, people asking me to heal cuts, bruises, even dire sicknesses. I hadn’t seen a specialist yet, so I had no idea, really, what I was doing or the cost. I was only ten.” There was a moment in her words where Tatianna began to look like the little girl from her story, lost and overwhelmed.

“That’s terrible, Tati.” Evie wanted to hug her friend, but she continued her story like Evie’s words hadn’t registered.

“It was this birthday that showed me that no matter what I accomplished in life from that day on, I would always be defined by this one, singular ability. Nobody would ever see me. When the party ended, I wanted to cry. I didn’t even get a piece of my own cake. But Clare and Malcolm stayed behind to celebrate with just me, for me.” The sadness on the healer’s face slowly shifted into mirth as one corner of her mouth tilted up. “We had fun, but they couldn’t dispel the heaviness in my heart no matter how hard they tried.”

She looked at Evie then, her remarkable brown eyes glittering with a grace so humbling, Evie could only stare in awe.

“And then Trystan arrived.”

This snapped Evie from her near worship. “He came? To your birthday?”

“I was as surprised as you.” The healer shook her head and rubbed her arm. “He hadn’t attended any of my other birthdays. But he came immediately after everyone left. He baked a cake.”

“He baked?”

“I know. But he was always fond of it. Edwin used to teach him how.” Tatianna chuckled.

“Our Edwin?” Evie didn’t realize the ogre’s history with The Villain went back that far.

“He was our village’s Edwin first—ran the bakery. Was usually who Trystan spent most of his time with—he didn’t like being around the rest of the family.” Tatianna shook her head. “I understand why he keeps him here. Edwin was the only one who—” Clearing her throat, Tatianna dropped the words like she’d never said them and continued her tenth birthday story.

“Anyway, Trystan stayed the whole time. He even sang when we lit the birthday candles. Very off-key, I might add.”

“I would sell my soul to see that,” Evie said with a deadpan expression.

The healer laughed. “He told me that ‘the opinions of others are ever-changing.’ And to ‘never care quite so much of the world’s perception of you.’”

Tatianna stood there, looking the same as she always did. Beautiful and emboldened, but now she had a subtle glow to her that wasn’t there moments before. “He never brought it up again. It was one of the kindest and most thoughtful things anyone had ever done for me, but the next day, he was back to his quiet gruffness. Like it never happened. Like he didn’t want to be acknowledged for an act of true goodness.”

That hadn’t changed much, Evie supposed. She knew her boss repelled praise like it was claws against the skin.

“What happened after that?”

Tatianna beamed, her arms going wide, and warmth spread in Evie’s chest. “I decided after that birthday that if someone was going to pick one thing about me to notice, I would get to choose what it would be.”

Slow realization dawned as Evie looked up with wide eyes, noting the bright pink ribbon around Tatianna’s wrist. “The pink.”

She nodded, gesturing to the worn cloth. “I bought my first pink bow the next day, and it’s been my comfort ever since.”

“Well, it looks wonderful on you, so that worked out rather nicely,” Evie said before asking hesitantly, “and what happened with Clare?”

Tatianna’s eyes shuttered. “All I will say is, Clare never forgave Trystan for the events that turned him into The Villain, and I did. It wasn’t a problem in the beginning, but it became one, and then it was over.”

“I’m sorry,” Evie said gently.

The healer patted her on the shoulder and smiled tightly. “Let me get to work, my friend. We can’t keep The Villain waiting.”