Page 55 of Beast and Remedy
Beau addresses Hugo. “Planning to meet still after I finish dining with our guests?”
“Yes,” Hugo answers with finality.
The Beau I know has always been kind and thoughtful in conversation, but this? My own unease is more stifling than his advisor’s cautious gazes.
“Odette, Veryon,” Beau greets the others. “You remember Princess Vivienne, Princess Marian’s sister?”
Odette stands taller than Esme, with tight coiled hair, pulled away from her face. Her warm sepia complexion matches her lovingly lit doe eyes. Her unreadable expression conveys akindnessI haven’t seen in years.
“Of course,” Odette sings. “How could we forget their beauty?”
My heart somersaults at her compliment, but when I meet her husband, Veryon, the hopeful feeling sinks to my stomach, everything souring.
He towers above his wife, Odette, hair cut closely to his scalp. His facial features are wide and long, all complementing his large and broad stature. The bridge of his nose wrinkles as he sniffs, his eyes assessing me.
“Yes. An honor it is to see both princesses and host them,” Veryon comments, voice deep, so low it is almost a hushed whisper.
“Will you two be at the meeting later?” Beau asks.
“If you wish it,” Veryon replies.
Beau nods, not bothering with a dismissal as we drift further into the castle, his advisors breaking off in the opposite direction.
Guards open another set of wooden doors, leading us into the main level.
I appreciate the gilded interior, carved wood swirling and stained along the walls to match the golden hues.
The bright yellow-and-beige atmosphere emphasizes the hung portraits and the oil paintings. The art continues up and across the ceiling, a long mural stretched out depicting the Makers, the aspects and beauties of their gifts, all tied in with the hanging chandeliers illuminating the room and the artwork.
Even after all these years away, I still have the same stunned reaction to how breathtaking this castle is. I keep my head tilted up to the painting, basking in the beauty as I always did.
“Glad to know it still surprises you,” Beau murmurs.
“I don’t think I’ll ever get used to it,” I breathe.
Beau hums as we climb the stairs, venturing to the guest wing.
Marcel pops up from behind, opening a door for us to stroll through.
“Thanks, Marcel,” Beau acknowledges.
“Anytime.”
I peer over Beau’s shoulder as Marian hugs Jules and Christine before joining Beau and me.
Christine lights up as Marcel goes to her, his lips meeting her forehead as Jules hugs her, offering the same.
The affection between the three sparks my curiosity until Prince Leo’s wide frame fills the doorway, suspicious blue eyes on me at first and then a softened gaze on my sister.
I turn back to the room, more hues of sunlight enveloping me. White walls, gilded trim and candelabras ooze warmth. Smallaccents of red roses line the furniture and cream-colored sheets as Beau lowers me to a chaise resting against the edge of the large bed frame.
Time slows while he pulls away, as if the Deities themselves wish to grant me a small blessing to keep him near.
He watches me, the gold in his irises more prominent and luminous up close.
My breath catches when he reaches for my hand, something poking my palm. I keep my features schooled, but my heart and suspicion has me arching a brow. I shouldn’t dwell on what I think it is.
“Thank you, Bea—Thank you, King Beau.”
