Page 84 of Beast and Remedy (The Last of the Heirs #2)

“I’ve kept every one. Even the ones when I ignored you when we were preteens.” He chuckles as he plucks out the oldest letter.

He opens it and offers it to me to read over my young, sloppy handwriting.

Autumn, The Makers Year 1008

To the Prince of Torgem,

Hello.

Please forgive me as I’m still learning my letters. Mama and Papa told me to practice and write my sister and friends.

Marian is good in her writing and it makes me mad. But I thought since meeting you and your family, I could write to you as well.

When will you visit me again?

You promised to play with me and tell me some stories.

The Princess of Belmur,

Vivienne

I laugh, trying to diminish the tightness forming in my throat. “I can’t believe I wrote that.”

“Well, you did always like playing make-believe with me.” He folds the letter and returns it.

Heat floods my cheeks, remembering Marian teasing me when I was a kid, telling her I got Beau to play with me. “I still don’t know why you even entertained yourself with associating with me at that age.”

“I couldn’t not play with you. You looked so hopeful, and your green eyes were almost filled with tears when I hesitated.” He exaggerates a long sigh. “My hands were tied.”

I groan with embarrassment.

He withdraws another piece of parchment. “Do you remember the one you sent with this box? The one you sent almost immediately after I received the other?”

The air shifts in the room as if a rug is being pulled out from under me. Beau opens the note, but I turn to stop him. “I-I-I remember. We don’t have to—”

“It’s okay, my love,” Beau says. “This is the one that means the most to me.”

I balk. “Really?”

“Really.” He kisses my temple before giving me my old letter.

I twist and put the case on his work desk before inspecting the parchment. Uncertainty runs through my gut as I rub it between my fingers.

Beau holds me close, hovering as I scan over the writing.

Summer, The Makers Year 1021

Dearest Beau,

I know I just sent a letter, and I know we are not as close as we used to be.

Sweet Makers, I’m pretty sure you don’t even consider me much of a friend.

I know I didn’t for a while myself. But I cannot begin to emphasize how much it hurts to know you and your family are hurting.

And I cannot imagine what you are feeling right now.

My last letter did not encapsulate that, and I must apologize.

Please know my heart is fractured and broken beyond repair upon hearing about Maxim. Your brother is an amazing person, and anyone who knows him should consider themselves lucky. The news of his passing weighs heavy on everyone here at home, and I knew it would be worse for your family.

To help, I thought sending this letter along with this box could be a way for you to record and store any memories you have of him.

I have a case like this myself for letters I’ve received to look back upon with fondness and I thought because of the messages we used to share, you might find some use for this.

Inside there is parchment and a quill with a feather from a bird that reminded me of Maxim. I also painted it gold because it’s a color that reminds me of him and of you. A way to symbolize the two of you.

I know you may never open this letter, and I want you to know, I understand.

I know I am a silly girl who always thought of you as my closest friend.

Your brother is more of your best friend than I ever could be.

That’s how I feel about Marian. But with times like this, it feels alright to have more than one person you share everything with.

Should you ever want that, please know you already have a space in my heart to be mine.

Your Rosebud,

Vi

My heart sticks in my throat, remembering the fracture of happiness everyone felt when Maxim passed away. Torgem practically severed ties with us when it happened, but we still showed our valiant support in different ways.

“I remember rolling my eyes when I received the box and another letter from you. I was too devastated, too broken, and too lost from Maxim’s absence.

I think back then I knew, deep down, it was my fault for losing your friendship.

For pushing you away. And when I saw it…

I didn’t feel worthy of it, and it only added to my grief. But after my father—”

His voice cracks, and I stiffen, pain radiating through me from his anguish.

He clears his throat. “You sent another letter, and I read that one, and ran to my study to grab your gift and read the other. I spent a good while combing over your words, before revisiting our old conversations and feeling warmth return to my heart. Something I hadn’t felt since before losing them. ”

I rest the letter beside the wooden crate. Empathy and understanding press down against my heart and my chest, and I turn to comfort him.

But he cups my face, his eyes scanning mine as he shakes his head. Beau takes a long, deep breath, slowly exhaling before I wrap him in my arms.

He burrows into my waves. “I was such an idiot for pushing you away when we were still kids.”

“Hormones,” I joke, and he bursts into a fit of laughter. I chuckle with him until he calms and pulls me back, returning sincerity into our conversation.

“I read that letter every day. Every day , Vi. Up until I knew I was ready to see you again.” Beau rubs my cheeks with a devastatingly tender smile.

“And when I saw you for the first time after losing my brother and my father, you not only shifted my world with your words, but you stopped my heart when you told me to write you back. I already felt unworthy of your kindness and friendship. But I couldn’t stop—didn’t want to ever stop writing you back. ”

Beau plucks a red rose from the vase, twirling it as his hypnotic voice warms every inch of my body. “And we got closer, and you kissed me… everything clicked .”

Beau places the flower in my hands, and then grabs my chin, tilting it up. “I wanted to be your friend, but I needed to be your love. To take up all the space in your heart to be yours and only yours.”

His eyes simmer with heat, and his dimples pierce his cheeks as his beauty—his profound words unraveling me.

My soul moves me forward, capturing his mouth with mine. I want to bind myself to him and only him, as long as he’ll have me.

But Beau meets my kiss tentatively, giving me pause.

Stopping and looking up, I can tell something is weighing on him, and I can’t help but feel like he is about to take me off this edge of love and joy.

Uncertainty churns in my stomach, souring all his sweet words.

“B?” I choke out, gripping the rose tight.

He presses his lips together, withdrawing before he says, “We should invite your father and tell him about the cure.”

“What?” I gape, blinking, confused by his unexpected suggestion. “No, I want to go see him and tell him the news with Marian. Plus, he won’t make it here in time.”

“But why not? And he doesn’t have to come to the celebration. We can send word tomorrow, and he can arrive the following day.”

I sigh and pinch the bridge of my nose. “He refuses to set foot in your kingdom. And if he knew I was here—”

“What would he do? You could explain everything. The infection, the cure, our love—”

“No.” I glare at him.

Beau’s eyes widen, shock slackening his jaw. He recovers, but his voice comes out strained. “Why?”

“You know why,” I tell him, trying to keep my mind together despite the agony ripping me apart from his tortured gaze. “And even if we found proof, he won’t push that aside. He’s too stubborn. He will still keep his distance. And if we push too much on him… I don’t know what he’ll do.”

He takes a step back, his posture sagging. “Is our love not worth fighting for?”

It is worth fighting for. Every second of every day.

And I sacrificed it to give Marian a chance.

My heart sinks deep into my soul as I struggle with the harsh words I deliver. “If the cost of fighting for our love is to lose the relationship I have with my father, my sister, and my kingdom… I-I-I don’t know, Beau.”

He looks at me like he’s never seen me before.

But he knew . He knew this entire time my stance on everything. But he’s still pushing.

He said this was enough, and I believed it would be, too.

But I know it’s not— he knows it’s not.

And I’ve forever damned us both with broken hearts and unmendable souls.

“Would you give up your only parent left in this world to be with me?” I ask, trying to have him understand my position without fully telling him. “What about your sister? Your brother? Your kingdom? Would you give that all up to be with me?”

“In a heartbeat.”

I falter, my lip quivering at his immediate response.

I mask away my pain, shoving it to the deepest parts of myself, knowing I’m causing us more heartbreak.

“I don’t know if I can. I’ve already lost Mama, and I cannot fathom the day when Letum will take Papa.

And that’s exactly why I don’t deserve you and never will.

You deserve someone who will have no hesitation in being with you. ”

Despite the withering of my soul, the fracturing of my heart, and the devastation clinging to my entire being, I drive my point across.

“All I have been with you is hesitant. And it kills me not to fully give myself to you. But I can’t.

I don’t know if there is a day that will let me do that .

My father, my sister, and my kingdom need me. The forest needs me.”

I shake my head in a poor attempt at an apology as tears line my vision.

I hadn’t wanted this night to shift so drastically.

But the damage is done.

Gone .

Ripped away, far beyond my reach.

Far beyond my control.

Everything in me wants to collapse—to break down—to sob and plea for this not to be real. But instead, I grapple with the frail, dwindling fragments of my control as I give him the rose and sidestep him.

Beau grabs my wrist. “But what about what you need, Vi?”

My shuddering breath is the only thing filling the silence. I keep my tortured self together, attempting to protect his heart and hating how selfishly I’m trying to protect how he sees me.

“It doesn’t matter what I need. I am the future queen of Belmur, and what I need doesn’t matter.” I sigh, pulling away from his grasp to leave.

“Why not?” Beau pushes, stepping in my way and raising his voice. “Why don’t you care about us?”

“Because there will never be an us!” I exclaim, my soul shattering when he flinches.

He grimaces, refusing to back down on his demanding questions and lacing them with distress. “How can you even say that?”

“Because I agreed to marry someone else!”

Every harsh line pinched tight across his features smooths painfully, his shoulders fall a fraction as he scans my face. His mouth moves, wanting to speak—wanting to take me back from what I said.

But he can’t.

Beau squeezes the rose, his knuckles whitening and his whole arm trembling.

“Marian needed a cure.” I strain with each word, the knot in my throat tightening.

“And for everything to work, for you all to come to into our lands, I had to give something up to rally Jean and Pierre to my side and not tell Papa.” Tears soak my cheeks through my poor explanation.

“And what Belmur, its people, and my family need will always take precedence over what I need.”

This was doomed from the start, and I don’t regret my time with him, nor the chance I got to save my sister.

But it’s no use trying to say any of that now.

I’ve lost the man I love. Lost the best parts of myself. Lost it to save my sister and Draymenk.

Now I can only hope my sacrifice was all worth it.

I rush for the exit, my heart shattering with each step.

I force myself to open the door. It creaks as I slink past the threshold, halting at his lamenting words.

“I love you, Rosebud. Always .”

I turn, memorizing every feature I can through blurred vision.

Sorrowful and despondent, my voice lowers, uttering a fact—a feeling—a truth that will never change. “And I love you and only you, B. Forever .”

Tears line his beautiful, breathtaking , golden-honey irises as he releases his grip on the rose.

Its crunched petals and snapped stem cascade into broken, ruined pieces at his feet.

Anguish threatens to drag me down, wanting to yank me to the floor and rip me apart beside the destroyed flower.

The obliteration of our love.

And it’s then my magic vibrates to life, waking from a long-needed rest only to pause at the recognition of my broken heart. Forlorn and pained, my power retreats into the stillness of my chest, taking my dying soul along with it.

I close the door and run to the alchemy room, needing to remind myself of my cause and distract my aching spirit by prepping more vials of the cure.

Beau doesn’t chase after me.