44. Evan

44

EVAN

T he trickster god waited for Evan outside of Death and Fortune Gambling Hall with a wide grin on his face. Evan was pretty sure it was supposed to be inviting, but it was more terrifying than anything else.

"Farlan, what a surprise."

Evan pinned him with a look. "Shouldn't be that much of a surprise since you've been tracking me the past hour."

Cato shrugged. "I prefer to think of it as watching your back."

"I can watch my own back. What do you want, Cato?"

The trickster fell into step beside him as he stalked toward the winter market. A sharp breeze lashed at his coat as he rounded the corner into the square. Though spring was fast approaching, winter was slow to surrender in Ardenis.

"While I know that I have historically remained on the outside of your crew and all the celebrations and such that being on the inside entails, I thought perhaps there might be more that needs doing other than just lying around and drinking wine like the lot of you."

Evan froze in front of a produce booth and turned to look at Cato. The god's nervous gaze darted to the booth and then back to Evan.

"You're bored, aren't you?" Evan laughed .

Never in his life had Evan expected to relate to or understand the trickster god, but it seemed that having a fleeting mortal lifespan had made Cato reconsider his antics.

Cato bristled. "I am trying to reform my ways and, as it turns out, many of my activities were what most of you would classify as problematic ."

Evan crossed his arms. "You have no hobbies that aren't destructive?"

"You expect me to fall in love like the rest of these idiots?" Cato let out a long-suffering sigh. "What a preposterous waste of time and energy for the illusion of?—"

"You protest it pretty hard for someone who thinks it an illusion," Evan countered.

Cato folded his arms, mimicking Evan's stance. "Whatever. The point is, I need something to do."

"Then I suggest you go get a job like the rest of the world. You've been around for centuries; shouldn't you know how this world works by now?" Evan taunted.

Evan had never had much desire for power, but he liked seeing their roles reversed for once, especially after he'd spent so much time trying to get ahead of Cato's plans.

Cato glowered at him. "You know what I mean. Common work is beneath me. I get too bored by it and the last thing you want is me bored. That's not a threat so much as a fact."

Evan held up his hands. "All right, I get it. Why not go to some other kingdom? See the world?"

Cato frowned. "I tried once. My power is strongest where people believe in me. When I tried to venture farther before, even when I was immortal, my power waned outside of Olney and Argaria. Everyone thinks being a god is so great, but it's not all it's cracked up to be. I guess my stories are less compelling around the world. There are bigger, badder gods to fear. Or more romantic ones—like how everyone just loves Goddess Cecilia." He rolled his eyes.

Evan sighed. "Why aren't you off bothering her?"

Cato's shoulders went rigid. "She said she appreciated my penance but that what I'd done didn't begin to clear the debt between us. She asked not to see me for a very long time."

"And what compelled you to actually listen for once?" Evan asked, purely out of morbid curiosity.

Cato's hands held a white-knuckle grip on his biceps. "Because I did push it too far and I found a line I didn't like crossing. I told you before I find that strategy too brutish. I like to best an adversary on an equal playing field."

Evan arched a brow.

Cato shrugged and sighed. "A slightly more equal playing field."

If Evan hadn't seen Cato help so much firsthand, he might not have believed him, but after all they'd been through, Cato had held up his end and gotten them out of a very messy spot, albeit one he'd orchestrated.

Evan scrubbed a hand over his face. "I could use an adept spy."

While he'd never fully trust Cato with anything but to be self-serving, Evan knew the trickster could be crafty. It was better to have some idea of what he was up to than to let him run wild.

Cato's eyes narrowed. "To do what?"

"To keep a finger on the pulse of the city, see how the common people are feeling. To notice if Vincent and his allies are truly gone. To make sure the Spellmans stay banished to the eastern wastes or wherever else they wander. You have the unique ability to travel far and fast and that's an asset."

Cato rubbed his chin. "And you'd believe what I give you?"

Evan ran a hand through his hair, bracing against another frigid breeze. "I'd look into it. Perhaps over time, I'd come to believe you on your own. Perhaps you'd find a reason to settle down. I'd believe you were invested like the rest of us."

Cato frowned. "I prefer not having something to lose."

"Maybe it's time to reconsider that stance." Evan reached out his hand, unsure if he was making a mistake but for once unafraid that there would be people there to catch him if he did.

Cato shook Evan's hand, offering a curt nod before gazing deeper into the market. "Good enough. Don't make a big deal about it. "

The god stalked away.

Evan watched him disappear into the crowd, then turned and walked home.

He wove through the streets of Ardenis, slowly making his way up the hill toward his estate just outside Castle Savero. It had technically belonged to his father, but Evan had kept it sealed up most of his life, visiting infrequently and startling the caretaker when he did. He paused outside the gate and stared up at the newly painted scarlet shutters on the house.

After a lifetime of feeling like a guest in someone else's home, he finally felt he had a home of his own.

Evan walked in the front door of the estate. Crates and trunks still lined the entryway since he and Sylvie had moved in just a few weeks earlier. Every night he helped Sylvie unpack more gowns and jewelry. Then he'd return the next day to find the foyer filled again. His wife was a prolific shopper.

He'd left the decorating to Sylvie and she'd been delighted to create her own space and do something other than spy and manipulate men of the court, though she was still a member of Xander's council and served as an Olney ambassador along with Cal. She'd stepped back and taken a more ancillary role since Xander had the support of both a wife with a sharp political mind and an almost-consort with a military mind.

Isla still had not agreed to the official title, though not for lack of Xander trying. He'd offered to change the name of it or simply not call her anything officially, but Isla seemed content not to be pinned down. Instead, she'd taken over army training and Evan had heard more than a few guards complaining about the new conditioning standards. She'd have the military whipped into shape in no time and Evan was glad of it.

He stilled, listening with sharpened hearing to sense where Sylvie was in the house.

He found her in the sitting room, facing the garden. She smiled warmly as he entered the room, hopped to her feet, and greeted him with a kiss .

Evan nodded to the freshly bloomed flowers out the window. "A bit early in the season for gardening, no?"

Sylvie shrugged. "I know, but I was a little homesick for the warm weather and I thought they'd make me happy even if they need a little more love."

"I see we got new furniture."

"Do you not like it? It was a gift from my mother, who is beside herself that we got married without her, deadly coup or not. She's expecting us to come visit and get married again in her garden in a few months."

"Months?"

"Why, do you have something better to do?" she asked.

Evan grinned. "Yes, my wife."

She tipped her head back and laughed. "That can be arranged, but surely after being the king's right-hand man you have more considerable ambitions."

"I promise I don't."

Sylvie laughed again, running her hands through his hair. "You're such a terrible liar. You don't know how to relax. I'm going to spend the next year teaching you how to have fun."

"I used to have fun. You don't have Xander Savero for a best friend and not know how to have at least a little bit of fun. I'm just a bit out of practice—" His gaze snagged on a new addition to the sitting room. "At the risk of being accomplice to a theft to the crown, I have to ask—is that Hank?" he asked, nodding toward the leafy green plant to the right of the window.

"It is. Hank the Houseplant," Sylvie said with delight. "I gave him a new pot and he seems to like it."

"I'm surprised he survived the invasion."

"He'll outlive us all," she deadpanned. "Did you think I would abandon our most staunch supporter and reliable spy? I had Cece water him so he would survive until I could go retrieve him after."

Evan narrowed his eyes, unsure if she was joking. "Have you figured out what kind of plant he is?"

"No, have you? "

"How do we take care of him?"

She rolled her eyes. "Evan, we have been caring for an entire kingdom for years now. You think a plant is outside of our abilities?"

"I've never cared for a plant before."

"You give him some water once a week and freshen up his soil every six months or so and I'll shoot some magic at him if he gets wilted. He'll be fine."

Evan frowned.

"I do think he may have developed a taste for fine wine, though," she said, arching a brow.

Evan laughed. "You love talking about magic because I can never tell if you're serious."

Sylvie crossed the room, drawing him along behind her. He sat in a chair and she perched on its edge. "I do."

Evan leaned back, sliding his hand up her ankle, tapping each of his fingers to his thumb, looking out the window. "So, what do we do now that Jessamin has taken over helping Xander run the kingdom and Isla has taken over helping Jessamin run Xander?"

Sylvie laughed. "Oh my gods, Evan."

"What?"

"You really don't know how to have fun."

He frowned. "Of course I do."

"No, you don't. You've been playing prince-sitter since you were old enough to hold a sword. I have never once seen you relax other than the few minutes after you climax."

Evan bit back a smile. "What would you suggest? Around court, they seem to think we should just be content to have children and settle down."

Sylvie rolled her eyes. "Of course—because the only happy resolution for a romance is for a woman to pop out babies. There are much better ways to have fun."

Evan grinned. "Fine. Then I suppose my wife will have to be in charge of all fun activities."

Her eyes lit up. "Fabulous. I just heard about a really excellent brothel."