Page 15 of Once a Villain (Only a Monster #3)

“My lord,” the maid said to Aaron again. Then she stalked out of the room, the door closing with an emphatic thump behind her.

“Well... I think she bought it,” Joan said.

“She really didn’t like the idea of us with him ,” Nick said. He sounded bone tired now, as if the maid’s disgust had tipped him into exhaustion. He went over to the table

and covered the pendants with a napkin. He apparently felt the same as Joan—he didn’t even want to look at them.

Aaron rummaged through the shopping bags, producing trousers, shirts, skirts, dresses. They were in charcoal and cream colors,

tweed and soft gauze.

“How much did you buy?” Nick asked disbelievingly as Aaron laid out the clothes in various configurations on the floor.

“Well, now that you’re apparently with me... ,” Aaron said, frowning down at the selection. “Not nearly enough.”

Joan forced herself up. With the clean clothes on display, she felt even more tacky and dirty than she had before. She was

desperate to get changed. “Mind if I have the first shower?”

“Go ahead,” Nick said, and Aaron nodded.

Joan picked up a tweed dress that Aaron had bought, and realized that all these outfits would be ruined if she slept in them.

“Do you think your counterpart has—” She stopped. She’d never actually seen Aaron in comfortable clothes, but he surely didn’t

sleep in his suits. Right? “Any T-shirts to sleep in?”

“T-shirts?” Aaron sounded out the word as if it was alien to him—as if he’d never in his life worn such a thing. “I’m sure

he has nightclothes.” He gestured to the dressing room. “What’s his is mine right now. And what’s mine is yours. Take anything

you like.” He added to Nick, far more begrudgingly, “You too, I suppose.”

Joan washed quickly, knowing the others would want to get clean too.

There were cuts and bruises all over her arms and legs, she saw with dismay—from the fight with Eleanor at the end of the last timeline.

That fight had been just a few hours ago from Joan’s perspective.

No wonder she was sore. The others must have been too.

She shut off the shower and wrapped herself in a towel to get clothes from the adjoining dressing room.

As she entered, she could only stare. It was far larger than she’d realized—on the same scale as the bedchamber—and the walls

were decorated in royal blue and gold, with illustrated panels showing peacocks and songbirds. Clothes were lined up in neat

racks and folded onto tables in display. Joan felt like she was in a posh department store.

Aaron’s counterpart seemed to have more flamboyant taste than Aaron’s usual preference: the suits were in rich colors with

interesting cuts. Joan smoothed down the velvet of a long blood-colored jacket with a deep V-neck.

It took her a couple of minutes to understand that the clothes were organized according to the time of day. Morning suits

over there; then day suits; dinner suits; and, finally, sleepwear.

Feeling intrusive, even with Aaron’s permission, Joan sorted through racks of silk nightclothes, all of them beautifully hand-embroidered

with mermaids and seashells and tridents.

She found a simple set—a short-sleeved shirt with matching shorts. The gray silk pooled in her hand like water, and the mermaid design on the front pocket was woven with thread so bright that it could have been real silver.

Joan slipped the shirt over her head. It was huge on her, and the shorts threatened to fall, but they werealmost painfully

comfortable after the chafe of her wet 1920s clothes. She rolled the waistband to tighten the shorts. When she was done, she

thought she could smell Aaron, faint but comforting, under the scent of fresh laundry.

Back in the bedchamber, Nick lifted his head as Joan closed the dressing room door behind her. His gaze swept over her, and

for a split second his eyes darkened, just like when she’d unzipped her dress earlier. Her heart stuttered.

“You found something to wear,” Aaron said. He was staring at her too, mouth open slightly.

Had he had second thoughts about sharing his clothes? “You—You said it would be okay—” Joan started, embarrassed suddenly.

“ Yes ,” Aaron said, oddly fast. “Yes, that’s okay.”

As he spoke, a loud beeping sound made them all jump.

“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 the call .”

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.”