Page 73 of Violet Thistlewaite Is Not a Villain Anymore
“I don’t know how to tell them the truth,” she said sadly, stroking her thumb over the bumpy surface of his head.
Bartleby reached over her shoulder and idly flipped a page in the book she was reading, the one they’d found at Shadowfade Castle about the resurrection ritual.
“I know,” she told him. “I’m done moping, I promise. Back to work with me.”
The bell above the door tinkled a gentle greeting, and Violet looked up, her smile freezing when she saw it was Sedgwick. She slammed the book closed in front of her and passed it to Bartleby, who curled his vines around it until it was entirely obscured.
“What do you want?”
He tutted at her scowl. “Now, now, Thornwitch. I know you’re not known for your bedside manner, but is that any way to greet a customer?”
“You’re not a customer.”
“Sure I am. I’m here for…” He looked around and plucked a packet of seeds from a display. “These.”
“They’re not for sale.” Violet crossed her arms across her chest.
“Interesting way to run a business.”
“They’re not for sale toyou,” she clarified, glaring at him. “What do you want? Come to gloat? Interfere with my magic some more?”
“I came to see if you’d reconsider my offer.”
She scoffed. “In other words, you’re stuck and you need my help with your little resurrection plan.”
His eyes widened in surprise for only a moment. “I’d have thought you’d be more pleased. Although, now that I think about it, I seem to remember the two of you having a little bit of adisagreement at the end there—but no, that can’t be right. You were his favorite.”
“And now I’m on my own, making my own plans,” she said coldly. “I don’t need him.”
He looked her up and down with disdain. “Don’t fool yourself. We all need him. He made sure of that—none of us were allowed to have the vision to make it on our own.”
She swallowed hard, the words ringing a little too close to something that felt like truth.
Sedgwick continued. “But once I resurrect him, things can go back to the way they were. I won’t have to hide like this anymore, in this horrible little town where no one understands that Iam somebody. I’ll have a place by his side again. And if you’re set on getting in my way,petal, then perhaps he’ll be on the lookout for a new favorite.”
“You’re an idiot if you think being favored by him won’t cause you anything but more grief.” For the barest second, she stopped hiding and let him see her. Not the Thornwitch, not Violet the florist, but the little girl behind them both who had been taken in by a villain and manipulated and brainwashed until she had no idea who she was anymore. “It’s not the picnic you think it is, being the one he depends on. The things he will ask you to do, the ways he will make you hurt if you fail him—the reward is greater, it’s true, but so are the punishments. Are you prepared for that, Sedgwick?”
She saw the moment he wavered—and the moment he shoved it away in favor of arrogance. She could work with arrogance.
“Tell you what,” she said casually before he could speak. “I’m growing tired of this business with the blight. It’s interfering with my plans. If you put a stop to it, I’ll hear you out. Maybe I’ll even help you.”
But she was met by a look of utter confusion, quickly masked by Sedgwick’s usual insufferable smarminess. “The blight? I thought that was you.”
“Excuse me?” Thisdidstop her in her tracks.
“It hasThornwitchwritten all over it, doesn’t it? Blighting plants and wrecking crops? Isn’t that what you’re known for?” There was no guile in his expression, only puzzled uncertainty.
Had she been heading down the wrong path all this time? Was it possible Sedgwick wasn’t behind the blight?
He watched her closely, tracking her open shock. “If it’s not you, then I’ve no idea where the blasted rot is coming from.”
“I don’t believe you,” she said, trying to mask the quiver in her voice. “What about my magic?”
“What about it?” He seemed genuinely confused. There was no crowing tone to his voice, no smirking glory in his expression. If Sedgwick truly had nothing to do with the side effects of using her magic, then that meant Nathaniel was wrong. The pain was coming from her because Violet using good magic just wasn’t natural. It meant her magic reallywasevil after all.
Sedgwick scoffed. “Come on, Thornwitch. Even I know better than to—”
“Don’t call me that,” Violet hissed, her mind racingevil, evil, evilwith each beat of her wicked heart.
