Page 58 of The Beauty and His Beast

Years ago, Everild wouldn’t have believed such qualities could exist in himself. He had been hardened by battle, shaped by survival. But Camdyn, with his earnestness and sincerity, had shown him that there was more to him than just the soldier, the warrior, the king. When Camdyn told him he was handsome, Everild believed it, not because of the way others looked at him, but because Camdyn saw him with such warmth. When Camdyn said he was gentle, Everild believed it, because in Camdyn’s eyes, there was no judgment, only acceptance. When Camdyn reminded him that he was good, Everild felt a truth deep in his chest that he had never known to be true before.

And when they were in bed together, wrapped in each other’s arms, and Camdyn looked up at him through those long, dark lashes, speaking the words that had become Everild’s greatest treasure—“I love you”—Everild believed it, too. He believed it with all his heart, for there was no greater truth than the love they shared.

The night was drawing to a close, and it was almost time to rest. They still had a long journey ahead of them in the morning, and the cold night air reminded them that they would need their strength for the road. The horses were resting peacefully in their stalls, their gentle breathing a quiet lullaby. Most of the attendants were already in their tents, having finished their duties for the day, and only the guards remained outside, keeping watch over the camp.

But for now, there was no hurry. For now, they sat together beneath the vast, star-filled sky. The night felt endless, and in the silence, Everild could hear the steady rhythm of Camdyn’s breath beside him. The weight of the world seemed to melt away in the peaceful stillness of the moment. It was just the two of them, alone in the quiet, surrounded by the beauty of the land they traveled, with nothing but the sound of their hearts beating in unison.

In this place, with Camdyn by his side, Everild felt more at peace than he had ever known. The road ahead was uncertain, but for tonight, they had all they needed. And as the stars twinkled overhead, Everild couldn’t help but feel a deep sense of gratitude for the love they had found, in this beautiful land, under the vast, eternal sky.

???

They weren’t that far from the monastery when they spotted a man in the distance, standing amidst a herd of cows. At first glance, it seemed as though he was simply shouting at them, but as Everild observed more closely, it became apparent that he wasn’t just cursing at the stubborn creatures. No, he was arguing with them, as if expecting some kind of intelligent response. He would shout at them, pause, and then wait as though he wasexpecting them to speak back—when they didn’t, he would grow angrier than before and shout again.

“How dare you!” the man’s voice rang out, frustration lacing his words. “This is impertinence of the worst sort! I was there when you were calved—”

Everild held up his hand, signaling the retinue to halt. Camdyn, who had been riding beside him, quickly brought Seilide to a stop, patting the horse’s neck as he looked at his husband. “What is it?” he asked, his voice soft but attentive.

“That man,” Everild said, pointing toward the scene ahead, where the monk was trying in vain to deal with the unbothered cows. “He’s concerning me.” His tone was firm. Everild didn’t like the idea of anyone causing such a scene, especially not near Camdyn.

But before he could say more, Camdyn’s eyes lit up with recognition. He quickly dismounted, moving with a speed that surprised Everild, who was still processing the situation. “That’s Brother David!” Camdyn exclaimed, his face lighting up with a mixture of surprise and affection.

“Brother David?” Everild asked, eyebrows raised in disbelief. He had already heard more than enough blasphemous phrases from the man to be concerned. “Camdyn, wait, don’t—”

But Camdyn was already striding toward the monk. The energy in his movements was infectious, and before Everild could fully process his own thoughts, he was following suit. His stride was longer, sure, but Camdyn’s eagerness quickly outpaced him. They dashed through the soft grass, their footsteps light as they made their way toward the monk. The cows, seemingly intrigued by their arrival, paused for a moment, their eyes following the newcomers. If Everild didn’t know better, he might have thought the cattle were watching them with a mischievous glint in their eyes.

“Brother!” Camdyn called out, his voice warm and familiar as he reached the monk. “Brother David!”

The monk, caught in his frantic attempts to corral the cows, paused and turned briefly. “Ah, there you are, lad. Where have you been? Now, help me with these blasted creatures—you know they’ve got it out for me.”

Everild watched in bewilderment as the cattle mooed in response, their calls sounding oddly like laughter. It was a strange and somewhat surreal moment, the kind Everild wasn’t sure how to interpret.

Camdyn, unfazed, walked over to the monk, his voice gentle but firm as he approached the unruly herd. “Brother,” he scolded playfully, “I’ve told you many a time that you’ve got to ask them nicely.”

The monk groaned. “Oh, nicely, he says. They’ve never treated me nicely. Not in all my years.”

Camdyn was unbothered, his tone still light. “Start now, then.”

Everild could hardly believe what he was seeing, and the captain of the guard, who had been riding along with them, must have felt the same. He stopped his horse beside Everild, casting a glance at the odd exchange. “Is everything alright here, Your Majesty?” the captain asked, his expression uncertain.

Before Everild could offer a response, the monk’s voice rang out again, louder and more agitated. “No, of course not—does everything look alright to you? These damned cows again! They won’t listen to a word I say!” The monk then paused, looking around. His eyes locked on Everild and the captain, and then he shifted his gaze to the rest of the retinue, still watching from a distance. “Who’s this man, Camdyn?” he asked, squinting in confusion.

“This is my husband, Brother,” Camdyn said with a smile, as though introducing a dear friend. “Everild. Remember? I left to get married.”

The monk raised an eyebrow, giving a snort of disbelief. “Ah, a ruler. Always one of them around. One dies, and another takes their place. Never ends.” He turned to Everild with a mischievous grin. “I’d rather have someone lend me a hand. What do you know about cows?”

Everild shrugged, trying to keep his composure. “Not much,” he admitted. “Except to follow Camdyn’s lead with them.”

“Well, how unusual!” David exclaimed, slapping Everild’s shoulder in a friendly manner. “This kingdom’s had four rulers in my lifetime, and here’s the first wise one!”

Camdyn blushed, the sudden attention from the monk making him a little uncomfortable. “Brother David, please! Be respectful to my husband!”

Everild couldn’t help it—he laughed, the absurdity of the situation finally sinking in. The monk simply shrugged, unfazed. “I think I do remember Brother Cenric mentioning something about you being prince consort now, lad. That’s a fine thing! Very useful! You’ve all these people to help us with the cattle now.”

The retinue, still watching with wide-eyed astonishment, seemed even more baffled as Camdyn continued to gently scold the elderly monk. He then turned to the cows, speaking softly to them. He called them by name, one by one, and asked them to make their way home. To the astonishment of everyone watching, the cows sniffed Camdyn with interest, nuzzling him in what appeared to be a greeting, before slowly turning and making their way back toward the monastery. Everild could have sworn the cows seemed almost pleased by the attention.

The monk, seemingly overjoyed by the turn of events, let out a jubilant laugh. “Hah!” he exclaimed, and wandered after the cows, all smiles.

Everild watched the old monk walk away and then moved to help Camdyn back onto Seilide. But Camdyn, shaking his head with a smile, placed a gentle hand on Everild’s arm. “I’d like to walk back to the monastery, Everild,” he said softly. “Could I do that? Just as the pilgrims do?”

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