Page 203 of Beast and Remedy
I half smile, trying to feel better but only feeling a new pile of questions building.
“Do you want to be alone or come with me and get ready for the ball? Beau is probably going to stop by and fill some more vials with his blood and imbue them with magic.”
I bristle. I shouldn’t be anywhere near Beau, and he probably feels the same.
I stand. “I’ll come with you.”
She laughs as she pushes out from the table. “I thought so.”
We stroll toward the door, but her hand stops on the level before she glances at me. “Vi?”
“Yeah?”
“I want you to know none of us will tell anyone about you and Beau.”
Gratitude and love relax my body. “Thank you.”
But she turns serious, features hardening like steel as she presses her lips together, visibly taken by emotion. “I-I will help your family find out who took your mother from this world too soon. Not because we want Beau to be found innocent, I mean we do want that, but we want you and your family to find peace and closure more than anything in the world.”
Mama was Jules’s godmother and Esme’s closest friend. And Jules, too, loved Mama as much as anyone who ever met her did.
I drag my friend into a quick hug. “I don’t know what I ever did to deserve a friend like you, Jules.”
She mumbles near my ear. “We shared the same love for those romance books in the library. That was enough of a sign.”
I snort, and we break into a fit of laughter.
We pull apart, and Jules opens the door. “Now, let’s go get pampered before we have to wear dresses all night.”
44
Name Day
Christine’s bedchamber is decorated with white and gold, much like Beau’s. But the biggest difference is the pops of pink accenting her furniture, her bedsheets, and the large rug stretched across the lounge area.
And as my friend fusses and tugs at my red waves, my sister and Jules snicker by the wardrobe through the mirror’s reflection.
Christine’s blonde curls are pinned away and gathered behind her shoulders, highlighting the sweetheart neckline of her light pink tulle ballgown. It’s adorned with peonies, and a large skirt expands from the waist.
She slicked Jules’s locks into a neat bun, smoothing the strands back to draw everyone’s attention to her deep violet halter gown.
Sleek satin hugs every inch of her body. Intricate beadwork descends from the collar, dipping and curving around her cleavage, then spreading on the right side of the skirt with a slit opening.
Her tan leg peaks out as she laces Marian into her dress, and when my sister turns, my eyes widen.
The daring gown is like Jules’s but black. Sheer mesh hugs at the base of her throat, with thicker fabric over the bodice and a plunging neckline. It drops to her navel, the chiffon billowing out at her waist and ruffling down her legs, onyx fusing with a deep emerald green at the hem.
Christine catches my sister and gasps, giving my scalp a reprieve. “Marian, that dress was made for you!”
Marian beams, stepping closer for examination.
I twist, admiring the detail of the green sneaking up and weaving throughout the black bodice. “You look beautiful.”
She rubs the sleek fabric of her bodice, and I sense the apprehension, the awkwardness visible on her face.
When Jules and I joined Marian and Christine earlier, I hadn’t made much of an effort to apologize for my attitude, and neither had she. I understood her reasoning and brushed it off as we spent time with our friends, thinking she felt the same.
But as her warm brown irises hold mine, it still seems like something is wrong.
