Page 32 of Once a Villain
“An alarm?” Nick said.
“A message?” Joan suggested. At the end of the room, a framed mirror was pulsing with blue light. Apparently, it doubled as a screen.
Aaron walked over to it. “Hello?”
Geoffrey’s face appeared within the frame. He was in a beautiful wingback chair, in what looked like his personal suite. Shelves of books lined the wall behind him. “My lord, I’m terribly sorry to disturb you,” he said. “You’ve received that call you were expecting—it’s come somewhat early. Do you wish to take it in your office?”
“I shall call them back,” Aaron said. “Schedule it for—”
“My lord,” Geoffrey interrupted, expression flummoxed. “It’s thecall.”
Aaron’s eyes flicked to Joan and Nick, seeking advice. Geoffrey’s head turned as he tried to follow Aaron’s gaze, but he couldn’t seem to see Joan and Nick from his angle.
Joan nodded slightly at Aaron. From Geoffrey’s manner, it would seem strange if Aaron refused. In any case, this might be a chance to learn more about this world.
“Put it through, then,” Aaron said to Geoffrey. “I’ll take it here in the bedchamber.”
“Very good, my lord.” Geoffrey’s now-relieved face vanished.
The screen was a mirror again, reflecting Aaron’s fine features and the windows behind him. It stayed that way for a long, long moment. Then the screen flickered, and a new face appeared. A woman with waves of long golden hair, braided with fresh red roses. And Joan’s heart was suddenly pounding out of her chest.
“Hello, Aaron,” Eleanor said. “I do hope I’m not interrupting anything.”
Eleven
Joan dragged Nick back, angling away from the screen. Fear and fury washed over her, so intertwined that they didn’t feel like separate emotions. The camera hadn’t caught them—she was sure of it—but she was trembling as if it had.
“My favorite Oliver,” Eleanor said to Aaron, her mouth curling in what might have been affection but Joan could only read as condescension. She wore a plain medieval gown with the arrogance of a queen, and her voice was just as Joan had remembered it—low and melodious and sweet.
Aaron had fallen into a straight-backed posture, chin up. From this angle, Joan could see his hands shaking behind his back.
The last time Joan had seen Eleanor, she’d been newly radiant with the power of the timeline, the glare so dazzling that they’d had to shield their eyes from her. That quality was still present, although muted. Light emanated from her skin—a white glow, with a shine of shifting colors that made Joan think of opals, of expensive silks. It was bright enough to obscure Eleanor’s surroundings completely; there was no way to know where she was.
“Have I caught you at an inopportune time?” Eleanor asked, and Joan realized she had a perfect view of the rumpled bedbehind Aaron, the pillows tossed to the floor. Combined with Aaron’s own disheveled appearance, the conclusion was obvious.
An almost imperceptible pause from Aaron. “No, Your Majesty. I serve at your pleasure.”
“Of course you do.”
Aaron allowed himself one slow blink of relief. He’d gambled on the address, the tone, and it seemed he’d been close enough.
Nick shifted—his first movement since they’d stumbled from the screen. He didn’t remember Eleanor murdering his family and torturing him, but memories lingered in the subconscious from other timelines. Joan knew that some part of him must still feel it.
He mouthed to Joan now:What does she want from him?
How often do they speak?Joan mouthed back. From Eleanor’s intimate tone—my favorite Oliver—it was too frequent for comfort. What if Eleanor figured out that Aaron had been replaced?
Aaron clearly had the same fear. His gaze was fixed on Eleanor like she was a venomous snake.
“I wanted to congratulate you.” Eleanor rapped her fingertips against the table. Her long nails ended in sharp points like a cat’s claws, polished in the color of fresh blood. “You’ve done very well in our fight against the wolves.”
The wolves.Joan straightened. She found herself turning back to Nick. He was watching Eleanor, his expression dangerous, and Joan wondered again if he had a counterpart here. If so, he’d surely be part of a resistance movement. He might even be leading it....
“I’m very pleased with you, Aaron,” Eleanor said. Her toneturned Joan’s stomach. In the last timeline, Eleanor had used praise to bring Aaron to her side, knowing that he was starved of approval by his cruel father. It seemed she’d used the same tactic on his counterpart. Joan felt her jaw tighten at the thought. “The wolves have been a problem for me.”
Aaron opened his mouth, and then stopped, apparently unsure what to say. There was some color in his face; he’d seen this flattery for what it was, and Joan suspected he was humiliated it had ever worked on him.
Eleanor took the pause as a question. “We’ve spoken about this before,” she said, a little testily. “Even with all my power, the Court can’t always anticipate incidents of human rebellion. Honestly,” she murmured, almost to herself, “I thought events were clouded because ofhim. I was so sure... But he’s dead, and I still can’t see it all....”
