Page 97 of Beast and Remedy (The Last of the Heirs #2)

Condemnation

“ H ow dare you!” My father roars, landing another blow. Beau doesn’t fight back.

Marcel and Leo hurry to separate the two men, but fury seeps through Papa’s words. “You are such a—”

“Papa! Stop !” I yelp and fall back when he shakes me off. Pain ripples up my side.

He freezes his next swing, fearful of hurting me, and he lowers his defensive strikes.

Leo and Marcel sigh with relief as Beau wipes blood from his busted lip, wincing. His cheek already bruises, and it tears me apart he can’t heal his own injuries.

Even as Beau’s eyes meet mine, there is no hint of remorse or regret for what he did. Rather, defiance shines as he stifles his pain and rises to his full stature.

My father points at Beau with malice. “ Don’t touch her again.”

“King Bernard—” Beau tries.

“Papa—”

“ Don’t try to explain yourselves.”

My father’s wrath is barely intact. Betrayal stings in his stare.

“Close friends?” He laughs darkly, and I know I’ve hurt him as much as Marian has. Shaking his head, he sighs with bitterness. “Take us to Marian. And then we will be leaving.”

Beau scoots toward the bed to help me, and Papa shoves him back. “What did I just say?”

Beau works his jaw slowly in rebuttal, but Leo and Marcel step in, each of them extending a hand to me. “We’ll help.”

I glance to my father for approval, but he’s too busy ensuring Beau leaves for the door first, keeping us as far apart as possible.

Papa joins Beau at the threshold, peering back with disappointment before entering the hall.

Not even Beau makes eye contact with me, and my lip quivers.

Soul-shredding pain burrows deep in my chest. I swallow the bile stuck in my throat, trying to maintain a brave face.

But everything is falling apart.

Marcel and Leo ease me up and through the hallway, all of us proceeding toward the dungeon. Beau and my father do not walk close to one another, and the distance between them is world-shattering.

“How long?” Leo whispers. “How long have you and Beau—”

“Since he came back to Belmur after your father passed,” I admit through the slight tremor in my voice. “I… We… We never meant to keep it a secret. It—”

“You don’t have to tell us more than you want to.” Leo pats my shoulder.

“But I-I’m—”

My knees buckle, and I drop my head, my wavy tresses falling forward and concealing my defeat.

Marcel and Leo keep me from collapsing and stop walking, ignoring Papa and Beau striding onward without us.

Everything I know and love will forever change after this.

“I-I can’t ,” I confess. “I-I can’t see her. I can’t see Papa. I can’t see Beau.” Exhaustion and pain take hold, shudders rocking through me. “I can’t do this.”

I lean into the crook of Marcel’s neck, my injuries nothing compared to the future looming over me. I can’t even think straight to conjure up what possibilities my father has in store once we return.

Will he throw me in the dungeons? Keep me from leaving Belmur? Force the arranged marriage on me and remove my choice?

Sweet Makers.

Marcel rubs my back, his voice soft and assuring. “You can do this.”

“I don’t know if I am strong enough to face her. To face Beau and my father again.”

Leo tilts my chin toward him, his blue eyes piercing through me with determination. “You are one of the strongest and smartest people I know. You can do anything you set your mind to.”

I blink, disbelieving. “I can’t believe you complimented me.”

Leo laughs, and Marcel adds, “It’s fact more than compliment, Vi. We all know that. Even your father.”

My chest hollows out as Marcel continues. “Your father knows how valuable you are not because you are his daughter or heir, but because you are the kind of person who will help our world live on and live for more than right now. Don’t let what is currently happening ever deter you from that.”

I gaze down the corridor to the dungeons, the darkness coaxing me toward Marian.

“Are you ready?” Leo asks.

Steeling my posture as best I can, I nod with finality, and they resume guiding me down the path.

Guards greet us as we pass through the front entrance, lanterns lit and the heat burning away the grime and mud stench. Stone bricks narrow the further we drift past each cell, and my heartbeat grows more sporadic the closer we get to the end.

I’m jolted for a beat, my nerves stilted at Jerrick standing beside Beau as Tove whispers to my father, touching his arm.

“What are they doing here?” I ask.

My father and Beau ignore my question, but Jerrick replies. “My help has been needed in attending the prisoner.”

“Doesn’t explain your wife’s presence,” I snap, the words harsher than I intended.

I’ve always respected Tove—admired and feared her, even—but her relationship with her husband and her dynamic with Papa sting now more than ever.

Jerrick’s eyes narrow at my rude comment as Tove speaks up. “My presence is only in accompaniment with my husband. I can leave if you’d like.”

Then, and only then, does my father look at me, anger still oozing from him.

I shrink with remorse. “No, I’m honored by your presence, Your Majesty.”

Tove regards me, probably confused from my sudden formality. She blinks and addresses her husband. “Now that everyone’s here, shall we begin?”

Beau nods, gesturing a guard forward to unlock the cell.

My knees wobble as the lanterns blaze, the metal creaking and clanging against my ears.

Beau holds the door open, and my father steps inside.

Tove moves next, but her husband stops her. She squares her shoulders with defiance.

Jerrick looks at her swollen belly before meeting her gaze once more. “Please?”

The moment, clearly meant to be private between them, is seen by us all, and Tove relents and extends a hand to me, Leo, and Marcel. “You three want to go in?”

Marcel removes his hold on me. “I’ll stay outside with you, Queen Tove.”

Jerrick extends his thanks as Leo and I share a nervous exchange.

I don’t know if he’s ready to see Marian, if the pain she gave me is could be similar to what he feels.

“You don’t have to,” I say, preparing to walk in the cell myself if needed.

“No, I will.” He keeps us both steady as we enter the large room, standing close to Beau.

Papa crosses his arms, and the King of Palaena lingers near Marian’s limp form tied to a chair.

The candlelight flickers against Jerrick’s prominent scar as he asks Beau, “Do you need me to stay after she is awake?”

“I don’t know why you need to stay in the first place,” Papa mutters with aggravation.

Jerrick gestures to my sister’s prone body. “I’m the one who made her unconscious. I can wake her up and make her go back under should you ask it.”

My father cocks his head. “How?”

“I read it in a book,” the King of Palaena replies with nonchalance.

“You? Read?” Papa guffaws.

Jerrick smirks, his scar pinching and blue irises sparking. “How else would I learn how to revive a person, Bernie ?”

A foreboding warning deep in my bones. No matter how vast his library is, a part of it has to be his abilities. What if his magic is knowledge-based like Beau’s?

Papa grumbles under his breath before motioning for Jerrick to proceed.

The King of Palaena touches Marian and steps toward the cell wall, closest to his wife. The visible stitch of protection doesn’t go unnoticed by me. His eyes catch mine as my twin rouses, and I study him carefully, but he nudges his chin to direct my focus.

I hold my breath, nausea swimming and churning, incapable of deciding whether to settle or escape.

Marian’s peaceful rest turns into frantic movements, and when she lifts her head, sweat clings to her skin and damp hair. Her eyes are wide, bulging and inflamed.

A wicked smile spreads, and Marian breaks into a cackle. “My, my, my. A gathering for me?” Her eyes twitch as she takes in our silence. “How monumental.”

Beau steps forward. “Marian Sylvaine, do you understand why you are here?”

A loud, ear-piercing shriek escapes Marian so dark and chilling it sends shivers up my spine at the completely different person in front of me. Abruptly, she ceases, darting her attention to our father.

She pouts, blinking rapidly. “Papa, please listen to me. It wasn’t me. It was Beau. No, it was Vivienne. No, it was both.”

Papa inhales a sharp breath as she tilts her head in an awkward angle toward me, her demeanor shifting.

“Vivienne, why? Why did you have to be the firstborn? Why did the Makers bless you and not us? It’s you! It’s your fault. You caused this— started this. I will”—she forces her body to scoot toward me—“make you pay. Make you all pay!”

Her crazed features grow as she recounts every vicious thing she has hated about me. “It was you who did this to me. YOU!”

Tears stream down her cheeks, despite the anger in her voice, and the infection takes hold.

Leo steps in front of me, catching Marian by surprise.

She eyes him up and down, clicking her tongue with disapproval.

“Leo, Leo, Leo. You are my everything.” She sings sweetly and offers him a heartfelt smile. Leo relaxes a fraction as she shifts once more, cruelty pouring from her lips. “And you are a disgrace and will never measure up to the one who truly holds my heart.”

“Enough!” Papa yells, his voice booming off the walls.

He sidesteps Leo, his words carrying weight as he speaks. “You are unwell, Marian. And we have the cure to heal you and have you come home.”

For the first time since being here, I spare a glance at Beau, already watching me as if we both know whatever she says next will truly break my father.

“Heal me?” She laughs through ragged breaths. “I don’t need to be healed. I’ve never felt more alive!”

And yet she starts to cry.

My father releases a sigh, lowering to a knee. “Marian,” he murmurs when her sobs grow frantic.

Marian trembles, emotions overpowering her.

Papa tentatively reaches to touch her—

Marian’s sobs shift into maniacal glee.

With splotchy skin and red eyes, a deceitful grin spreads through her sinister remark. “I’m the reason we have a dead mother and you a dead wife.”