Page 25 of Beast and Remedy (The Last of the Heirs #2)
When I rise, Jules stomps toward us, fury etched in her features. I shrink back, not ready for an attack or reprimand from my childhood friend.
She throws herself at me, hugging me tight. “Screw pleasantries. I’ve missed you,” she says, and I relax.
Marian snickers as I echo my friend. “I’ve missed you too.”
Her lighthearted laugh is full of joy, and I can’t help myself. But with our standing with Torgem, I carefully release Jules.
Marian and I need to get home.
Beau’s features furrow as I grimace, gathering my courage to remain diplomatic and not throw my arms around him, too.
“Thank you for aiding us. I apologize our arrival was unexpected, but we are truly grateful for your help.” I swallow thickly, building up more strength to return to my life without him in it. “We must be on our way now, though. Our home is in great need of us.”
Beau steps forward. “We are always happy to aid our allies, although I’m not comfortable letting you leave tonight. I would like to extend a room for you and your sister so you gather enough rest to travel back in the morning.”
I stare at his open palm, hesitating.
I can’t touch him. If I do, I will never wish to let go of him.
I bite the inside of my cheek as Marian nods, agreeing to his suggestion.
Sighing, I hate how right his logic is.
I drag my eyes to Beau’s, fighting every part of my mind, body, and soul to touch him.
“We—we would appreciate that, Your Majesty.” I curtsy again, ensuring I give no visible signs of my desperation to reunite with him.
“There is no need for formalities between friends, Rosebud.”
My heart rips from the affection and slight sorrow in his voice. I cast aside my pain and rise, wanting to move past the torture of hearing his nickname for me.
“Please come inside and enjoy refreshment and food. Let us converse before your journey tomorrow,” Beau says as he sidesteps to guide us into his home.
My stomach twists as our friends go first, Marian and I pausing when Beau’s advisors, Hugo, Esme, Odette, and Veryon, observe us.
Looking at them hurts, and my mouth runs dry from their disappointed expressions.
I match my sister’s stride, the ride on horseback already settling over my tired and aching muscles. But a spasm has me buckling and I misstep, stumbling to meet the harsh pebbled ground.
I bite back a yelp as pulsations ripple down my lower half.
“Vi!” Marian and Beau startle in unison.
The instant recognition of Beau’s strong arms has me slumping forward, my stupid heart getting the better of me when it comes to this man and his touch.
It’s too perfect. He is too perfect.
Sweet Makers, I can’t even trust myself to look up.
I wish I could hold him, kiss him, and tell him how much of my soul is his.
“Are you hurt?” Beau asks with tenderness, and it kills me not to tell him honestly the magnitude of my hurt.
Emotional. Physical. Mental. All of it.
I haven’t been able to share anything with him these last few years, and it shreds at my withering heart. Fighting for a brave face, I bury my feelings, remembering my purpose.
“I-I’m alright.” I don’t even allow a moment to indulge in his closeness. “Clearly, I have forgotten how strenuous horseback is.”
He chuckles and then clicks his tongue. “I won’t risk you falling again if that is the case. Here, let me.”
“Your Majesty, it’s fine. I—”
I gasp as he hoists me up, holding me close to his chest. Instinctively, I wrap my hands around his neck, hating myself for drowning in how good he smells.
“I will take you and your sister to your rooms so you can change,” he says, adjusting me and pulling me closer. “Remember when I said no need for formalities?”
My cheeks flush when his eyes meet mine, and I bite my lip, wanting to melt from the smirk plastered on his face as he strolls with me in his arms.
Marian follows behind, concerned as she mouths, Are you okay?
Fear of Beau catching on to anything I might say only leaves me nodding.
“You came back,” he whispers against my ear.
Turning to Beau, I want to—no, I need to—push him away and tell him I only came for my sister. But I can’t.
I refrain from replying altogether as we join up with Marcel, Leo, Christine, and Jules.
Jules wraps an arm around Marian as her parents, Esme and Hugo, lower their heads in greeting.
“Princess Vivienne, a pleasure it is to see you again,” Esme says, her voice low.
Esme rises, her tresses absent of gray, remaining straight onyx and her face wearing hardly any indication of age. Even her husband, Hugo, reflects a similar youthful complexion.
The only sign of aging on him is his salt-and-pepper sideburns, his deep-set brown eyes matching his wife and his daughter. Hugo remains silent with an unreadable expression, his lack of welcome enough to warn me of his distrust.
Beau smiles. “A wonderful pleasure it is, Esme. To have your closest friend’s daughters visit us again after such a long while.”
Esme’s body stiffens, as does mine, at the reminder of my mother, her life, and their friendship since their teens.
Beau remains unmoving, and my heart sinks knowing he has shifted from friend to king.
She glances up, his height requiring her to tip her head back. But when her eyes flick to mine, her swallow is audible amongst the group as she replies.
“Indeed.”
Beau addresses Hugo. “Planning to meet still after I finish dining with our guests?”
“Yes,” Hugo answers with finality.
The Beau I know has always been kind and thoughtful in conversation, but this? My own unease is more stifling than his advisor’s cautious gazes.
“Odette, Veryon,” Beau greets the others. “You remember Princess Vivienne, Princess Marian’s sister?”
Odette stands taller than Esme, with tight coiled hair, pulled away from her face. Her warm sepia complexion matches her lovingly lit doe eyes. Her unreadable expression conveys a kindness I haven’t seen in years.
“Of course,” Odette sings. “How could we forget their beauty?”
My heart somersaults at her compliment, but when I meet her husband, Veryon, the hopeful feeling sinks to my stomach, everything souring.
He towers above his wife, Odette, hair cut closely to his scalp. His facial features are wide and long, all complementing his large and broad stature. The bridge of his nose wrinkles as he sniffs, his eyes assessing me.
“Yes. An honor it is to see both princesses and host them,” Veryon comments, voice deep, so low it is almost a hushed whisper.
“Will you two be at the meeting later?” Beau asks.
“If you wish it,” Veryon replies.
Beau nods, not bothering with a dismissal as we drift further into the castle, his advisors breaking off in the opposite direction.
Guards open another set of wooden doors, leading us into the main level.
I appreciate the gilded interior, carved wood swirling and stained along the walls to match the golden hues.
The bright yellow-and-beige atmosphere emphasizes the hung portraits and the oil paintings.
The art continues up and across the ceiling, a long mural stretched out depicting the Makers, the aspects and beauties of their gifts, all tied in with the hanging chandeliers illuminating the room and the artwork.
Even after all these years away, I still have the same stunned reaction to how breathtaking this castle is. I keep my head tilted up to the painting, basking in the beauty as I always did.
“Glad to know it still surprises you,” Beau murmurs.
“I don’t think I’ll ever get used to it,” I breathe.
Beau hums as we climb the stairs, venturing to the guest wing.
Marcel pops up from behind, opening a door for us to stroll through.
“Thanks, Marcel,” Beau acknowledges.
“Anytime.”
I peer over Beau’s shoulder as Marian hugs Jules and Christine before joining Beau and me.
Christine lights up as Marcel goes to her, his lips meeting her forehead as Jules hugs her, offering the same.
The affection between the three sparks my curiosity until Prince Leo’s wide frame fills the doorway, suspicious blue eyes on me at first and then a softened gaze on my sister.
I turn back to the room, more hues of sunlight enveloping me. White walls, gilded trim and candelabras ooze warmth. Small accents of red roses line the furniture and cream-colored sheets as Beau lowers me to a chaise resting against the edge of the large bed frame.
Time slows while he pulls away, as if the Deities themselves wish to grant me a small blessing to keep him near.
He watches me, the gold in his irises more prominent and luminous up close.
My breath catches when he reaches for my hand, something poking my palm. I keep my features schooled, but my heart and suspicion has me arching a brow. I shouldn’t dwell on what I think it is.
“Thank you, Bea—Thank you, King Beau.”
The hope blooming in his eyes from saying his shortened name makes my gut twist. I tuck my feelings down deep, needing to put distance between us.
My heart will not— cannot —get the better of me here.
No matter how much I want it to.
Marian rests beside me as Beau squeezes my hand.
“I’ll have the cooks prepare something for us in the dining hall within the hour.”
My mouth feels dry as I try to respond, and Marian, thank the Makers, covers my lack of words. “Thank you, Beau.”
Why is she not using his title? We should be keeping up appearances and playing along. Not relaxing back into old times.
My own anger must be evident because she elbows me, and I grunt, a snarl almost escaping.
Beau huffs a laugh. “It’s good to see the two of you again.”
He continues to chuckle, heading for the exit, and I slump, hating how my relationship with Marian was always amusing to him. It probably reminds him of his relationship with his siblings.
But I didn’t even want that to slip through during our visit. We can’t lower our guard while we are here.
Only when the door closes do I nudge Marian. Hard . She hisses and snickers, and I roll my eyes.
An odd bond to have with another person who will piss you off while having your back. It’s infuriating how quickly I can go from loving to hating her for being my best friend.