Page 42 of Beast and Remedy (The Last of the Heirs #2)

After All This Time?

D rafting correspondence to Prince Stefan and Papa was fast, along with packing the barest of essentials.

Time is not on our side, but horses will be, and we need space for books, journals, research, and supplies more than clothing.

I want to bring one of my favorite reads, yet I eye the concealed stone hiding all the old letters between Beau and me.

I cave and grab one, tucking it into my journal.

It is probably stupid to bring the letter, knowing it could slip out at any point. But an unknown force tells me to keep it.

A reminder of what our relationship was and what it couldn’t be. A reminder of encouragement and reassurance I’ll need but am too weak to turn to Beau for right now.

So much for the strength I asked the Makers for.

We drift through vacant towns. After reaching Vilbirn, one of the few places with people refusing to evacuate, we opt for soft beds before sleeping outdoors becomes our new norm for the next long stretch of time.

Dismounting and tying off my horse, I check my satchel and provisions, ensuring my journals are tucked safely away from prying eyes before I help Marian as the men settle up our lodgings.

Her energy wavers significantly from this morning. Sweat beads lightly across her hairline as her feet swing sluggishly, and her knees almost buckle upon impact.

I am grateful Beau is nearby. Not for me but for Marian.

I reach for her forehead to check for a fever, but my sister snatches my wrist, gripping it as fury lines her eyes.

“I’m fine,” Marian seethes. Shock flashes across her features, and she releases me and stares at her open palms. “I-I don’t know why I did that.”

I can’t help but clutch my chest. Studying her carefully, I wait for another outburst. But her brown eyes hold mine in the silence, and I relax.

“Let’s get inside.”

She spins for the tavern as I let her go ahead of me, stepping up the two stairs, and the door creaks open.

The comforting smell of spiced meat tempts me as we enter, and my stomach rolls with hunger. The owner, a curvy woman in her later years, cleans behind the bar to the right.

Long tables stretch from wall to wall with built-in wooden stools for patrons to sit and converse while enjoying wine and beer. But the tavern is quiet, except for laughter from a booth in the left back corner.

Marcel and Leo catch us, but I lift my hand in warning, wanting to give Marian a little more time before being ambushed.

The lady peers up from cleaning. Her graying hair falls forward on her right side, and she huffs a breath to move it away as she bows. “I can bring out two bowls of stew, Your Highnesses.”

A kind smile lifts my cheeks, remembering her from when we dropped off our friends before. “Thank you, Dolores.”

She perks up at my memory before walking to the kitchens.

Our friends swing out of their seats, headed for us, but my sister curls into me. Jules and Christine’s brightness dims, noting Marian’s sudden hesitation.

Beau trails up behind Marcel and Leo, the three men towering over Jules and Christine as I lean into my sister. “Are you alright?”

“Fine,” she hisses and grips my bicep so tight I wince.

“You aren’t acting like yourself.”

She whirls, lashing out. “Who is to say you know how I should and shouldn’t act!? None of us even know how you act yourself!”

Her nails dig deep, piercing through the light fabric of my shirt. I don’t want to draw attention, nor do I want to stare at the anger fuming across her face.

“Marian.” Beau laces her name with a hint of warning.

My sister turns, and he steps through our friends, a small bead of light coming from his palm.

“Release your grip on Vivienne.”

She glances down, mortification sweeping across her features, and she flinches, discarding my arm as if it burned her.

“I-I am so sorry.” She rubs her temples in confusion and despair.

Beau takes another step, his voice smoother and calmer. “Here, let me.” He channels his power over Marian, touching her head.

Her features glow as rays pulse through her, and when Beau removes his power, my sister sways.

Beau and I are there to catch her. His eyes meet mine, small swirls of magic still glowing in them, and my breath catches.

Blinking rapidly, I pull up Marian to steady her, careful to avoid his touch. But I don’t know what is worse, the heat coming from his hand so close or the lack of it warming my own.

Marian lifts her chin, smiling serenely as she thanks Beau. “I-I don’t know if I’ll ever get used to that.”

Beau chuckles. “It’s only because you, your body, and my magic are fighting the infection. It is a lot to go from being in pain to the sudden jolt of relief. Come on, let’s get you seated.”

“I’ve got her,” I say, trying to move her alone.

Beau flashes me a look. “I’ve got her. But help get a chair.”

I concede, removing myself as Marian curls into him.

The two of them pad to one of the dining tables in the middle. The chair scrapes across the dark wooden planks as Beau lowers my sister into the seat.

Beau and I sit beside her as the others join us, everyone acting civilized except Leo.

Always wanting to stand out.

Dolores approaches and places two bowls in front of us before returning to the bar.

The steam rises from the stew, hints of garlic and thyme caressing my nostrils. I eagerly pick up my spoon, my mouth salivating in anticipation of the soft potatoes and carrots.

Leo folds his hands over the back of his seat, inching close to Marian. He winks, and her cheeks redden.

Marcel fills us in on correspondence from his parents. They received word of their first animal attack in their borders, but Beau’s bannermen handled it swiftly and trapped a few animals for the healers to study.

Yet my heart thunders at the flash of the wolves attacking us. Riker. Bronn. Alec. Marius. Shredded clothes, gore—their insides more visible than their flesh. Red coating my fingers after losing it and slaughtering a helpless, infected animal. Marian getting bitten. The blood .

So. Much. Blood.

Food hovers near my mouth, and the images and memories dissolve my appetite. I lower my spoon and focus on the ceramic bowl, my fingertips tracing the grooves carved into it.

Not wanting to look up, let alone converse much further, I push my chair back, needing to clear my head.

Confusion lines each of my friends’ faces.

“I need to get some rest tonight. Marian?” I twist to her, hoping she picks up that I need her to be a scapegoat.

Thankfully, she agrees.

Leo surges forward. “Can I help get you to your room?”

Marian’s hair falls away, her cheeks a little sharper than usual underneath the warm light coming from the lanterns.

“Thank you, Leo.” She looks back as he supports her. “You got our packs?”

I nod, and she heads toward the rooms, with Leo whispering something in her ear. Her laugh bounces back to the group.

“Well, I’ll be lucky if I can squeeze in an extra hour of sleep if these two don’t snore me to death,” Jules says, thrusting her thumb to Marcel and Christine as they rise.

Christine rolls her eyes as Marcel laughs. “Clearly, you forget how loud your snores are.”

“I don’t snore!” Jules scolds.

“Yes, you do,” they say in unison.

Jules looks for support, and I hold my tongue. Her mouth falls open. “Vi! You know I don’t snore. Tell them!”

I shrug. “Your snores may have filled the acoustics of the library when we were kids.”

Jules huffs and crosses her arms. “Well, there goes my defense.” Seeing her partners gone down the hall, she runs after them, hollering, “Hey! Wait!”

A faint smile dances across my face, happy for the three of them, loving the dynamic and harmony each of them provides to the others.

But when a hand holds mine, the short-term amusement and distraction drains.

I jerk away from Beau’s grasp. “I need to get our supplies.”

I head for the door as a chair squeaks, footsteps shuffling and Beau’s beautiful voice hypnotic.

“I can help.” He trails after me, but I stop abruptly, causing him to bump into me. “Sorry!”

But I don’t let his apology move me. Remembering to keep him at a distance, I latch on to the lever.

“I can manage. Thank you, though.” Pushing the door open, I bolt, my wavy tresses masking my vision as I hurry to our horses.

I ignore Beau, who still follows me, approaching Marian’s steed and removing her packs. I also disregard the relentless need and desire to watch him as I grab my own essentials.

A brush of wind blows the top cover of my satchel open, and I fumble for the piece of paper slipping loose from my journal as it escapes.

Oh fuck. Please , no.

I scramble after the letter, bending to catch it, until a foot stomps on the paper.

I almost fall face forward, gasping in embarrassment.

The person who filled the paper with promises and words of affection so many years ago now retrieves it. Beau turns it over, recognizing his penmanship faster than I can snag it.

I close my eyes in frustration, trying to muster the strength of indifference despite the heat blooming underneath my cheeks.

I wish more than anything in this world I had magic to stop and reverse time. Maybe then I’d be able to erase this mishap. And so much more.

“You…” The soft evening breeze swallows his word. “You kept them?”

I reach out my hand for him to return it, but when nothing lands in my grasp, I look up and answer. “Yes.”

“Rosebud,” he breathes, lowering the letter.

My heart stutters. The name I hated when he first mentioned it, forbidding him from ever using it again, only for him to explain its meaning and stir forth a silly crush.

My first crush, which he ruined faster than it formed.

The friendship we had fizzled when he entered his adolescence, thriving with his friends and siblings and ignoring me for years. It wasn’t hard to realize he didn’t want to talk to someone younger than him who wasn’t as fun and interested in hunting.