Page 198 of Beast and Remedy
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.
Summer, The Makers Year 1025
My Dearest, Rosebud,
I long to make our wishes from the Celebration of Spirits come true every day. You are exquisite, your mind, body, and soul, are a beacon of knowledge I seek to fill the rest of my days with. There is always something new to learn about you, and I plan to read you thoroughly, over and over until my spirit leaves this world. My gift from the Makers was great, yet the two of us loving one another is far more precious than any magic in the world.
I crave to have you close to me, to have you in my arms, and to reunite with the other half of my very soul.
Always and only yours,
B
43
Friendship
Jostling of my shoulderannoyinglywakes me. I pinch my eyes before peeling them open to Marian, Jules, and Christine standing over me.
“Did you sleep here all night?” Marian asks.
I lift my head. The view of my surroundings clearing and the crates, filled with the cure I spent all night preparing, come into focus.
My mood sours. “Does it look like it?”
Marian works her jaw. “There’s no need for an attitude, Vi.”
“There is when you all woke me up,” I bite back, unbothered by their presence and slumping into the comfort of my arms.
Everyone needs to go away.
“We only wanted to find you so we could get ready together for the celebration tonight,” Christine adds.
“And you really want me to join you?” I scoff. “We all know I’m not good company.”
“Why are you acting like such a bitch?” my sister demands.
“Marian!” Jules gawks, and Christine’s eyes widen.
I sigh, vexed and exhausted, and fully twist to my twin.
Her happiness has faded, her hands resting on her hips. Her words ring true and match the way I pushed Beau away last night.
I wave her off, not even wanting to be around my sister, let alone argue. “It doesn’t matter. Just leave me be.”
“Stop acting like a child,” Marian scolds, grabbing me and tugging me from the table. “Now come on, let’s go.”
“I already told you”—I shake her off—“I want you to leave me alone.”
Her nostrils flare. “Yeah? Well, I want you to stop acting like a bitch and start acting like the heir of Belmur.” She grimaces and stoops forward. “But we don’t always get what we want, do we?”
Marian’s hardened gaze bores into mine, fury and resentment evident in her puffed-out chest. The venom in her voice strikes me like an arrow, and I recoil.
I blink once, twice, almost waiting to see if she realizes what she said. But she doesn’t budge, doesn’t move. Rather, the anger she carries seems to grow, expanding as she scrutinizes me.
Am I letting her down in some way? Could she need me tonight with all the expected guests? But she’s always handled our roles better than I.
