Page 28 of Beast and Remedy
“Alec! Marius! Bronn!” Jean orders. “Fetch a heal—”
I stop him. “Look at his chest.”
Jean does and closes his eyes with resignation, rescinding his command.
“He’s dead.” Pierre squats, peeling the letter from the dead man with a grimace.
He opens and reads the contents before crunching the note into his fist. Only after dropping it into the blood does he snap his fingers at Alec and Marius to take the emissary’s body.
The two step forward with no complaint, careful with each movement. Alec’s sadness matches his brother’s as they ease the man between them, hauling the lifeless form away.
Bronn scans each of us, ensuring we are alright before he fetches a staff member to clean up the remnants of the deep, dark liquid already seeping its mark into the floor.
Pierre rises and closes the door, his scowl deeper than usual. “Auriville was attacked.”
Marian gasps as Jean runs a hand through his hair.
“His report echoes what happened in C’eaux,” Pierre resigns when he spins to us, his blue eyes somber as he adjusts his vest.
“No survivors?” Papa asks. “Not a single one?”
Pierre only dips his chin, and my father slumps into the closest chair before slamming his fist on the table.
“What ishappening?” he snarls as he rubs his temples.
Marian and I exchange a glance, and I know in my bones she sees this evidence as proof of my suspicions.
I caused this, and it’s spreading.
Affecting animals.Affectingpeople.Mypeople.
“Papa, we should evacuate Nadee before they’re attacked next,” I plea, and the three men governing this kingdom look at me with reproval.
“Andwherewould the citizens go?” Pierre asks.
“We could bring them here,” I suggest.
“And what if we need to evacuate another village? What then? We don’t have enough room to sheltereveryonefrom animal attacks.”
My rebuttal is on the tip of my tongue as another guard, Riker, opens the door without admission. His stoic gaze matches the deep wrinkles etched in his forehead as his low voice hurries out, “Your Majesty, a healer is here.”
Jean replies. “I told the others we didn’t need—”
Phoebe, one of our long-serving healers, fills in the doorframe, her breathing ragged. “I’m here to report about Annie.”
My stomach sinks. “What is wrong?” I step toward Phoebe, ready to rush with her to the healing wing.
Phoebe raises her hand, halting me. “She… she’s gone.”
My heart wrenches, twisting and crashing against my chest.
“What?” Marian startles.
Nausea builds in my gut as I fight to remain upright. Stepping back, I grip the chair and try to keep down the bile.
“After we administered a tonic for her fever she began thrashing—convulsing.” Phoebe pauses, her words echoing the defeated crack in her voice. “The Makers didn’t even grant us the time to stop the seizure before she just stopped moving.”
I should’ve known. I should’ve watched over her more carefully.
