Chapter 27
Trystan
So much had changed in his life recently. But Trystan found that he still fucking hated Lionel.
There was at least consistency in this.
“He’s definitely human.” Lionel rubbed at his chin before grinning at Alexander Kingsley.
“I’ve requested your services at the manor a dozen times at least, and the first time you actually show up, that’s your diagnosis?” Trystan gritted out. The office common area had been cleared of employees, desks emptied that were normally full. “I can make obvious observations, too.”
“You couldn’t tell your assistant was in love with you for the first six months that you knew her,” Lionel pointed out.
“That was hardly obvious.” Sage scoffed, tugging the ribbon from her hair to unravel the braid and fidget with her curls.
Gideon sat at one of the empty desks, boots propped atop the surface, sipping on a glass of rum. Chugging it, more like. “Eve, you could’ve been hitting him with a board that said ‘I love you’ and he still would have missed it.”
“Thank you, Gideon,” Sage said with over-the-top sweetness.
Gideon raised his glass. “Here for you.”
“Where is this enchantress? I’d like to meet her,” Lionel interrupted, looking at Alexander with a more speculative gaze. “It appears your curse was merely half broken. Such curses can only be fully reversed by the person who cast the enchantment in the first place.”
Alexander winced, brushing hair from his eyes.
“She’s made of stone,” Trystan objected.
Gideon tsked. “Now, now, Maverine, that’s hardly a way to speak of a lady.”
Trystan stared at him for a beat before addressing Sage. “Would you be upset if I killed your brother?”
Evie paused. “Probably.”
“Probably?” Gideon barked.
“Hello?” Alexander choked out, wincing through a few more words. “Back to me, please.”
“Apologies, Your Highness.” Lionel swept down in a courtly bow. “If you want my opinion, you’ll be turning into a frog at random for the foreseeable future. You need the original enchantress; her daughter is essentially useless.”
Alexander stood from his chair so quickly, it tumbled backward. He paid it no mind, just looked at Lionel with a surprising fierceness before uttering three very threatening words.
“No. She’s. Not.”
Lionel seemed more than pleased by this. “A human after all these years. What a relief that must be for you.”
Alexander ignored the comment, turning to pick up his chair and gently place it back on the ground, then gestured for Gideon to pour him his own glass of rum.
“It would likely be more of a relief if you could give us a tangible way to change him back permanently.” Malcolm entered the offices with a tray of cakes. “Edwin told me to bring up refreshments, and also I was bored and wanted to eavesdrop.”
Gideon whistled. “Same here.” He punctuated it with a salute.
“This is a torturous combination of people,” Trystan grumbled, troubled to no end that all these different annoying corners of his life were intersecting. “So, you essentially have no way to help us, Lionel?”
“Not entirely. There’s always true love’s kiss?”
Alexander’s mouth twisted in a cringe. “You are offering?” he rasped.
Lionel chuckled. “Good to see your sense of humor is still intact, Your Highness. And you!” Lionel approached Evie.
And Trystan approached the knife near the cakes.
“Lovely as ever, Evie.” Lionel leaned his cheek toward her. “A kiss! Quick, my lady, before I turn into a frog next.”
Sage smiled while rolling her eyes, kissing the tips of her fingers and pressing them onto Lionel’s cheek. “There you are, flirt.”
“Oh, that was smooth. You should try that,” Malcolm said to him in a hushed whisper, trying for levity.
Trystan responded to that levity by smacking Malcolm in the back of the head.
“Lionel…you wouldn’t happen to know anything about a second book of Rennedawn, would you?” Sage asked, her voice so demurely curious, even Trystan couldn’t tell if she was prying.
Lionel didn’t react strongly, just gave Sage a funny smile. “That’s a curious question. Is it not a myth? The second copy?”
“Yes, of course.” Sage laughed lightly. “I just thought if there was any merit to it, a man of your caliber would know.” Her eyelashes fluttered, and Trystan felt bile rise in his throat.
Lionel took the bait, because he wasn’t dead—yet—but he also appeared to have full knowledge he was being played, judging by the gleam in his eye.
“It’s said one book was meant for Fate and the other for Destiny.
The magical gods left them in charge after they moved to another world.
Or at least, that’s what some legends say.
Destiny’s book was given to the first king of Rennedawn, and Fate’s was hidden for safekeeping. ”
“Where?” Gideon asked, too eager.
Lionel shrugged. “No one knows. The location was kept secret. But they’re soon to be irrelevant in any case.”
“Why?” Trystan asked carefully.
“King Benedict is working with Destiny to rewrite the story back to its original form.”
“The destiny monster,” Sage corrected with a nervous laugh. “She’s no agent of the magical gods.”
Lionel gave her a quizzical look. “They’re one and the same.”
Oh.
Fuck.
Sage was panicking quietly, her curls bouncing when she bobbed her chin. A wildness shone in her eyes, signaling her impending explosion. “Yes. Naturally.” She tore across the room, ripping the glass of rum from Gideon’s hands and swallowing it in one gulp. “Thank you. Pour more.”
“Eve, do you think—”
“Pour the damn alcohol, Gideon,” she bit out, slamming the glass on the desk.
Gideon was pouring before it hit the wood.
“Tell me there’s a concrete way to stop them from rewriting the story.” Trystan spoke quietly. “I’ll pay any price.”
Lionel whistled. “I’ll give you a professional courtesy and say that you should never offer such a thing. To anyone. But no need. Some curses, like His Highness’s, are small—no pun intended, of course,” Lionel added jovially.
Alexander rolled his eyes. “Die.”
Sage spoke through a strangled giggle, a drop of rum running down her lip and drawing all of Trystan’s attention. “This wouldn’t be a small curse, Lionel. This would change the fabric of Rennedawn as we know it.”
Lionel shrugged. “A curse of this magnitude needs an anchor.”
“As in a ship?” Gideon clarified.
“As in something immune to the curse. Something that could be used to undo it if necessary. A way to unlock it, so to speak.”
“How would someone unlock a curse?”
Lionel grinned. “With a key.”
“Unhelpful,” Trystan replied flatly, folding his arms. “What sort of key would Benedict use as an anchor? Spit it out.”
Lionel rolled his eyes, the blue streaks in his hair catching the light as he paced by the window. “No one likes being stunted for having dramatic flair, Villain.”
Trystan’s thread of control had snapped. “No one likes having you as a house guest, Lionel. Where is the fucking key?”
A cake appeared in front of his face, Sage’s stern mien above it pinning him in place. “Eat,” she ordered.
All eyes in the room were on the gesture, but Trystan couldn’t have cared less. His hand flew up to grab her wrist, pulling her closer, and he observed the hitch of her breath, the blush blooming on her cheeks. He took a large bite, releasing her just as swiftly as he had grabbed her.
“Gods, you two are nauseating.” Lionel’s lip curled in disgust.
Gideon held his hands over his eyes. “I’m not looking. Is it over?”
Alexander merely smiled, raising his glass in a toast to Trystan before taking careful sips.
“When Rennedawn was created, there were several anchors made. Keys.” Lionel explained it like he was speaking to school-aged children. “Those shiny things that clang together.”
Malcolm chuckled, stopping when Trystan glared.
Lionel continued. “The key in question was given to Rennedawn’s royal family for safekeeping, until the king a few generations back gambled it away.”
“Who did he gamble the key to?” Sage pressed.
Lionel grinned. “A giant. You’ll want to head toward our border with the eastern kingdom. If you can convince them to hand it over, you’ll be stopping any damage Benedict does before he can even start.”
“If you know this information,” Malcolm started, “then wouldn’t Benedict also know?”
Damn it. “We have to leave. Now,” Trystan gritted out.
“We?” Malcolm frowned.
“Yes. I’m lacking in people who annoy me for the journey, so you’ll do,” he said dryly. “Gideon, I’ll need you to begin hunting down the second book. Elsewise, you will be going into the Gleaming Palace.”
Sage whistled, patting Gideon’s back. “Tough luck.”
Gideon was unamused. “Thank you very much.”
Sage pinched his cheek. “Here for you.”
“What about me?” Alexander said more quietly, clearly uncomfortable, rubbing his throat again.
Trystan sighed. “I’m loath to leave you alone, Kingsley, but there’s no guarantee you won’t turn back into a frog. I’m not sure if you want to be vulnerable out in the open when that happens.”
Kingsley appeared grateful. “I’ll come.”
He clapped a hand over his friend’s shoulder, still in disbelief that he could do so.
And now the final hurdle.
“Sage, we’ll need you, too.” Trystan addressed her earnestly. “I know you wanted to wait for Lyssa to return, but your magic would be invaluable in this.”
Her light eyes glanced down, and she appeared to collect herself before she looked back at him, this time in hapless wonder. Amusement shone through her when she said quietly, “You had me at ‘we’ll need you.’”
Lionel chimed in. “And what should I do?”
Trystan ushered the group toward the doors to make for the stables.
“Leave my home and, by the deadlands, please never return.”