Page 50 of Beast and Remedy (The Last of the Heirs #2)

Doubting You?

T he borders of the mountain pass fade into Dereen Forest. We stride past the villages of Mezu and Vanta, but my legs quake at they grip the horse’s saddle. And so does my heart as Northtry’s castle peeks through the green foliage.

“Are you sure we have the right plant?” Jules asks as she and Christine ride up.

“I know the texts we’ve discussed and read over the last few nights mention chamomile, but we have that in Belmur. The plant local to Northtry has to be roseroot,” I answer, taking in the winding path we have to follow up to the vast home braced against the spread of the Malfell Mountains.

“That and the lavender we’ll need grows in Unterkirch rather than here,” Beau adds, approaching my other side.

“I hadn’t known about lavender,” Christine comments as she twirls a loose blonde curl.

“It’s not common in Torgem, but when I first was learning about my abilities, I read up on past healers’ remedies and medicines.

Many had lavender in their tonics and tea.

” Beau eyes my sister and Leo conversing before he adds, “On our way back, we can pivot near Unterkirch’s border and gather a lot and brew a tea for Marian to try—”

“We should only be worrying about using the lavender to help create a cure,” I interrupt, his open mouth halting and pausing.

“True, but lavender tea relaxes one’s inner turmoil and could aid with Marian’s mood swings during our travels to Belmur. It can be an additive treatment along with her healing sessions while we formulate a remedy,” Beau replies with his dimples on full display.

Oh .

Heat blasts across my cheeks in embarrassment. I shouldn’t have jumped to conclusions about his suggestions. I glance at the towering castle.

The sculpted gray stone melds together, creating a fortress surrounding the inner estate. The roofing stacks into a funnel tipped with black metal, spearing the clouds themselves.

Beau and I lead our group, taking in each spiked tower armed by soldiers studying us with their arrows nocked and swords at the ready.

I’ve never seen a stronghold guarded by so many officers. Then again, King Vinzent is a military man, the only dual swordsman in our time. Maybe he believed in having an excessive number of warriors protecting the outer barrier, but… it seems unnecessary.

Creating this fear of power that can strike at any moment?

Are they kind rulers to their people?

The thoughts do nothing to ease my nerves as each soldier watches us like we are an enemy they seek to end.

Beau’s eyes pierce into the side of my cheek as we reach the barred metal gates at the top of the slope. “I thought you said Prince Stefan would receive us?”

I’ve worked with Marcel to disperse my correspondence anytime when we’ve stopped in towns.

He’s been updating Torgem while I’ve been writing Tove about our progress, messaging letters for Papa with Marian, and letting Jean and Pierre know of the plants we are hoping to collect and when we expect to return home.

I’ve gotten responses from them.

But never one from the Prince of Northtry.

Did I miss something?

The commanding officer halts his soldiers, and bile lurches up from my stomach.

Someone behind us nocks their bow as Beau reaches for his sword. I cover his hand with mine, holding his eyes with a silent warning to wait.

He pauses, tenderness spreading across his features as he relaxes underneath my touch before I turn to the guard looming above us.

“Princesses Vivienne and Marian of Belmur are here to meet Prince Stefan and King Vinzent. Along with our companions and the King of Torgem,” I holler.

The commanding officer assesses Leo, Marcel, and Beau. “How do we know who you are, when you all carry weaponry with you?”

Beau eases his horse forward, shielding his eyes from the sunlight as he speaks. “Even you know we cannot travel without protecting ourselves from creatures in the forest. Especially with the growing animal attacks. Please, sir, we seek an audience with His Majesty.”

The commanding officer leans to a man beside him, whispering something inaudible. The two exchange a nod before the soldier departs, the commander addressing us. “You shall wait in the courtyard before we allow admittance into the castle.”

Metal screeches against its hinges as the onyx gates open. More guards move throughout the courtyard as we enter, the large barrier doors slamming shut behind us.

Leo and Marian nudge one another, wide grins across their faces, as Jules and Christine huddle close, careful of their own conversation being overheard.

Beau drifts close and whispers, “Are you sure we are welcome?”

Marcel comes up, scanning every alcove for escape and every person he might have to take down. “This certainly doesn’t feel like a pleasant welcome for friends.”

I look at Marcel. “I don’t see why we wouldn’t be welcome. Prince Stefan invited me to his home back when we danced during our name day celebration. I figured with me sending him notice and the reason for my arrival, there wouldn’t be any issues.”

Marcel licks his lips and rubs his neck.

But when I face the keep, I feel Beau’s gaze and I turn. “What?”

His jaw flexes, like he is restraining himself or struggling with something. “It’s—”

The doors of the castle bellow open, cutting off Beau and drawing my attention toward the Prince of Northtry at the head of a group of guards.

A small curl of his swept-back brown hair falls forward above his eyebrows, softening the sharpness of his entire demeanor. His gaze finds Beau and Marcel before landing on me.

Or maybe my sister. I’m not sure.

Prince Stefan’s rich voice fills the courtyard. “Princess Vivienne, welcome to Northtry.”

I straighten my spine, remembering my royal manners, and greet him with a kind smile.

“Had we been notified of your visit, my father and I would have made better accommodations for your arrival,” he says, my heart pausing.

I tilt my head. “Did you not receive my letter?”

“What do you mean?”

Did something happen to my correspondence?

Marian strides forward, her voice cracking. “Did you receive mine, Stefan? I sent word when we entered your borders and rested in Mezu.”

Prince Stefan looks toward my sister, and she stiffens, blinking fast and then rubbing her temple.

Did something happen? Could a new symptom be starting?

“I regret to inform you, Princess Marian, I received no such notice,” he says, but puts a hand over his heart. “Believe me, if I did, I would have arranged my entire schedule to visit with you.”

The Prince of Northtry winks, but Marian doesn’t react and seems rather puzzled.

“But I know I sent word to you.”

The prince’s demeanor darkens, a calculating aura I remember seeing on my name day returning. “Are you accusing me of lying?”

“No! No one is accusing you of lying, Your Highness,” I interject on Marian’s behalf. “We are hoping for an audience with you and the king in regards to the infection.”

He shifts his heated gaze, those deep russet eyes capturing me and making me want to drown in them. Prince Stefan is striking. Devastatingly so.

But he isn’t Beau.

Stop thinking about men, Vi.

I rub my temples, trying to clear my thoughts.

The Prince of Northtry sighs, his shoulders sagging as he clicks his tongue. “And here I believed you missed me, Princess Vivienne.”

Beau grumbles and dismounts, his bow and quiver strapped to his back and his hand resting on his sword’s hilt.

In one fluid motion, every soldier arms themselves. Daggers and blades drawn, arrows nocked.

My body locks, my hands tightening on my reins as Marcel and Leo unsheathe their swords, ready to defend their king.

Christine gasps, her horse neighing and staggering before Jules helps the steed, hushing her partner.

Beau steps closer to the prince, unbothered by everyone, and I forget how to breathe.

Beau’s voice comes out stern and cool. “I suggest you order your men to stand down and fetch your father. The King of Torgem and the future Queen of Belmur request an audience.”

The order sends a chilling kiss down my spine, and I clench my thighs.

Vi! Now is not the time to imagine what this low, gravelly voice of his would sound like whispering the darkest of sins in your ear.

I bite the inside of my cheek to pull myself back to the present.

Prince Stefan is cold, all flirtation cast aside as he addresses Beau. “The king is indisposed at the moment, and we are not receiving guests at this time.”

Beau’s boots scrape against the pebbles, the courtyard quiet as two royals assess one another. “You know you are dismissing not only one kingdom, but two?”

Prince Stefan straightens to his full height, still shorter than Beau as he adjusts his black tunic, acting unbothered. “If it’s grave news, please share it now or come back after writing to request an audience.”

Beau crosses his arms, this anger I’ve hardly ever seen still lacing his next words. “Am I really to believe the king is too busy to hear pressing news about Draymenk and his own kingdom?”

“Yes, you are,” Prince Stefan replies with finality. “Now, please.” He gestures to the large barrier doors we entered mere moments ago. A silent dismissal.

I look between the gate and Beau near the prince.

I need to leave with the roseroot. The esprit gave me hope, and I will be damned if I came all this way to lose it.

“Please, Stefan,” I beg softly. “Will you hear me out?”

Prince Stefan remains stone-faced in front of Beau, but he slowly flicks his gaze to me. His eyes rake over me, and heat prickles along my scalp, traveling down my body.

I wiggle in my saddle, trying to distract my thoughts from the ache growing between my legs.

What is the matter with me?

A slow smirk stretches across Prince Stefan’s features. “Let us talk somewhere private, Princess.” His voice tempts and taunts me to dismount.

But Beau blocks me.

“She is not going anywhere with you alone,” Beau hisses, and my heart plummets.

What is he doing? He knows we need this. Marian needs this.