Page 45 of Beast and Remedy (The Last of the Heirs #2)

Write Me Back

“ R emind me why we have to travel through the mountains again?” Christine grumbles as our group inches closer to Hinbron’s Pass.

Soft clouds cover the sun’s rays, illuminating and melting away the tinges of snow on the peak of each mountain. A flock of birds fly across the sky, their harmonies echoing. Spring shifts into summer, grass and wildflowers blooming in the plains we stroll by.

“It’s the easiest way to get to Northtry,” Marian answers, petting her steed.

Although it is the easiest way, it will still take us almost a week to get there. The trip gives us the opportunity to hunt, fill our water packs, and find shelter, with caves and alcoves where we can hide and rest while we rotate standing guard.

Jules strides up. “Don’t worry, they are intimidating at first, but we are taking the path that doesn’t go fully into the mountains. We’ll be fine.”

“It seems like we are doing a whole lot for so little gain,” Christine huffs as a fly crosses her line of sight, and she bristles, her hands swatting in the air.

The pest buzzes off, and I suppress my smirk as she fans her blonde curls away before I say, “It seems that way now, but Northtry is marvelous.”

“You’ve been there?” Christine asks.

Marian replies, “We have not been since we were kids, but in my last letter from Prince Stefan, he—”

“Oh, when did you last talk with Prince Stefan?” Jules teases, brushing her shoulder against Marian.

My sister’s cheeks redden, and she fusses with her gray tunic. “We just write to each other. There is nothing wrong with that.”

Christine and Jules chuckle at Marian’s obvious crush, and I, too, try to mask my amusement while resisting the urge to look ahead toward Beau.

“Except the part where you danced with him on your name day and he invited you to his home,” I add, earning a glare from my sister.

“ Us . He invited both of us.”

“Yes, but I’m not the one writing him.”

“So?” Marian straightens, and her horse bobs its head, making her wiggle in her saddle.

The urge to summon my power to see if her steed can sense Marian’s mood itches along my fingertips. But I refrain, already satisfied by the jokes passing between us.

“So, tell us,” Christine asks, “are you two involved?”

“Have you kissed yet?” Jules puckers her thin lips, making kissing noises, and I burst out laughing.

Marian bristles. “No and no,” she snaps, but I don’t miss her gaze falling on Leo when he peers back and squints.

I conceal my grin as Marian shrinks into herself.

Leo is as much of a flirt as my sister. The two of them have always gotten along… It makes me wonder if they’ve ever—

“What about you, Vi?” Christine asks.

Beau stiffens at his sister’s question and glances over his shoulder, his jaw flexing.

I cough into my fist. “What about me?”

“You? Are you seeing anyone?” Christine wiggles her brows mischievously, wanting more gossip. “Come on, tell us!”

Jules elbows her partner. “It isn’t much of our business.”

“I know, my darling, but what else is there to discuss as we travel? The weather?” Christine gestures around to the sun-filled day.

A small breeze blows through my waves as Jules snorts. “Fair. But Vi should probably tie her hair back, or else it will muffle the response you are looking for.”

My untamed tresses sweep across my face again, proving my friend’s statement right, and Beau cackles up ahead.

I was expecting Marcel or Leo to be the one behind it, not Beau. But, Sweet Makers, do I regret watching him laugh because the damned sunlight leaps off him, a glowing beam of starlight in the middle of the day.

My heart leaps outside of my chest, hating myself for lingering.

I miss his laugh so much.

“Vi hates tying her waves back,” Leo says. “We all know that.”

Marian rushes to my defense. “She styles it sometimes.”

She’s always been one to taunt and handle jokes well amongst friends. But my own enthusiasm differs based on the company and my mood.

“I don’t know if I have ever seen her hair plaited,” Marcel comments.

The trail narrows, and our group huddles closer together. The men ahead stay beside each other while Marian and Christine remain in the middle and Jules and I linger at the back.

My friend’s joy is as infectious as I remember when we were kids, even when she raises her voice to Marcel. “That’s because you were too busy hunting with the boys all the time.”

Marcel shrugs. “You got me there, sweetheart.”

“Are we really arguing about my waves?” I ask, surprised when Marian and Beau respond in unison.

“Yes.”

I roll my eyes as Jules’s elation brightens the inflection of her voice. “Do you want me to plait it for you?”

Another soft breeze shoots my locks upward, and I tuck the strands behind my ears. “I don’t see how that is possible while we are riding.”

“When we set up camp for the night, then,” Jules suggests.

Absentmindedly, I wince and rub the nape of my neck, phantom pain lingering from countless times my sister and others have tried to tame my waves.

“Come on, Vi. I’ll make sure I don’t leave you with sore spots.”

A flicker of a smirk graces my lips. “Fine.”

She shifts in her saddle with giddiness, clasping her hands. “Yes! I’m so excited!”

“I don’t understand why.”

“You and Christine have the most wavy and curly hair. I am envious of the various ways the two of you can style it. And this”—Jules lifts her raven-colored plait before flicking it back—“This is just boring. Straight. Dull.”

Marcel hollers back, “None of those describe you, though.”

Instant red blossoms on Jules’s cheeks, and she fiddles with the horse’s reins.

But Marcel and Christine beam at one another, glee radiating from their relaxed postures and softened eyes, filled with pure adoration and love for each other and Jules.

I elbow my friend. “He isn’t wrong, you know.”

Jules turns bashful as she whispers, “Thank you.”

Beau calls back, “I’m sorry, what did you say, Jules?”

She grumbles before raising her voice. “I said thank you!”

Marcel and Beau peer back, both handsome and lightening our travel with their broad grins. Beside them, Leo smacks his forehead.

Jules tries to hide her appreciation, but it’s visible even as I run a side-glance over her. Good.

It’s heartwarming to see Marcel and Jules’s dynamic, their silent affection, little taunts, and small gestures. It’s all a glue they apply to each other, filling each other’s hearts.

And with Christine, the three of them bring out the best in one another, harmoniously symmetrical and always happy.

Marcel faces the path, and Beau’s stare remains on me, his smile lingering and reminding me of everything he said when we were at the tavern.

I swallow the lump forming in my throat, averting my gaze and focusing on Jules.

“You alright?” she asks in a hushed voice, nudging her head to Beau riding ahead with the others. “You two seem like you haven’t bounced back to what you were before.”

I sigh, her words weighing heavy on my heart.

What we were…

Everyone knew my friendship with Beau was unique. The kindred understanding we had with one another deeper than our love for reading and learning, appearing to others as if we had our own language.

But with us butting heads every time we’ve been seen together lately…

“We are working on it,” I offer, reaching forward and running my fingers through my horse’s mane.

“Is it because of your father?”

I want to say yes, but it’s not only about Papa. It’s about my kingdom, my sister, and my heart possibly being broken again.

Since Beau put his feelings on the line, I haven’t been able to move past it. The war inside my very soul thrashes with the possibility, how I cave one moment and then push him away the next.

“It’s… complicated,” I confess, and Jules looks at me knowingly. “Even I haven’t figured it out. I’ve barely had time to think on it because my focus has been on Marian and her condition.”

“I get it.” She hums. “But don’t give up on it, though.”

I arch a brow. “It?”

Jules slows her horse, distancing us from the group before she explains, “Him. Don’t give up on him .” She glances toward Beau before looking back. “He treasures you, Vi. He always has. And you didn’t see what it was like when we were banished.”

I halt my steed and grab her elbow. “What happened?”

Jules turns somber, her heartbreak visible in her hooded brown eyes as she takes a long steadying breath. “It was like he lost another part of himself. Another part of his family. It was almost—if not worse—than when he lost Maxim.”

Maxim.

“Oh.” My voice quiets as the grim conversation dims with the sunset.

We ventured in silence until we reached a cave. Everyone agreed to stop and camp for the evening.

I remained quiet and agreeable when rotations of who will be on watch together were decided, the past consuming me. Even when the stillness of the night stretches over our group, I still can’t stop the flood of memories rattling my mind.

Maxim, Leo, Marcel, and Beau went hunting together. A typical occurrence for the four of them in their adolescence.

They trekked deep into Glaston Forest, camping and training, always wanting to strengthen their skills. But the boys separated during one of their hunts, and Maxim was attacked by an animal, bleeding out before help could come.

Beau and I had not spoken in years when this happened, and I regretted the resentment I built around my heart when Jules shared the news with me.

When my parents found out, Mama went into the forest to hunt down the animal that attacked Maxim. I remember her saying, Our friends, our family. And regardless of my human or beast form, everyone and everything shall be reminded not to harm those I care for.

I was never brave enough to ask if she had fulfilled her search, the grief of losing my friends weighing too heavy on me back then.

But I extended my condolences, wanting Beau to know that despite time apart, it didn’t remove the friendship we had.

And I kept writing letters, understanding they’d probably go ignored. But I hoped that, should he ever read them, he would know he wasn’t alone.

And I’ll never forget the day our friends all came back.

We received them all with haste, hugging them and offering our love.

Beau was the last to arrive, and I’ll never forget how he dismounted his horse, dodging and ignoring everyone with his eyes set on me.

I’ll never forget the determination in his step and in his golden stare.

And I’ll never forget how he embraced me, his strength catching me off guard and his sweet citrus scent hitting me as he whispered, Thank you for the letters, Rosebud. I am so sorry I never replied.

I smiled brighter than I ever had in years, returning his embrace. Write me back next time.

And he did.