Page 6 of Beast and Remedy
Winter, The Makers Year 1008
To the Princess of Belmur,
Hello Vivienne,
You may call me Beau if you wish. Titles are a lot to write when learning letters. I may be older than you, but I must admit that I get an aching wrist after writing so much.
Your parents are wise to have you practice, and I would be happy to help with your studies.
I plan to visit soon, along with my siblings and friends, whom I’m sure will love to play with you, too.
I don’t think they have many stories to share, but I can.
Can I call you by your given name?
From,
Beau
2
A Complete and Utter Disaster
Near the threshold of the ballroom, I blend in with the shadows as I sip on my wine, leaning against a wall and observing the ridiculous spectacle of the celebration.
While the staff come and go through the entrances, the musicians’ station near the tall stained glass windows and play lively tunes.
They sway, drifting into a place of harmony and celebration as couples dance in the center of the room, allowing others to greet Papa and his two advisors and friends, Jean and Pierre, by the dais.
Marian lingers near my family, socializing and laughing with perfect royal elegance.
I breathe into my cup, savoring this moment of solitude. I made it two hours through thischaradebefore contemplating when I could escape without upsetting anyone.
During the first hour, my father introduced me to a few noblemen and coerced me into dancing with each of them. And while being here is part of my duties, doing anything with anyone other thanhimis what guts me.
I constantly have to shove down those feelings, and yet, I can’t help myself.
The clinking of glass beckons the music and dancing to a halt.
Peering through everyone, Papa’s tall, round frame demands attention. His wavy, slicked-back hair, once as mahogany as mine and Marian’s, fades with each passing year. It matches his thick beard that is overshadowed by his rosy cheeks from the heat and mass amount of freckles surrounding his large nose.
With a cup raised, he scans the crowd. Looking for me.
Marian bids goodbye to a group of people, and I gulp down the remainder of my wine before passing through the crowd to join my loved ones.
“My friends! It is an honor to have so many of you here tonight to celebrate my two beautiful daughters, Vivienne and Marian,” my father greets everyone with joy and vigor.
Pierre summons a staff member as I approach, and the worker extends their tray for me to rest my glass on.
Papa’s first advisor is tall, with a slender frame, hunching slightly so my own height matches his as I straighten my posture. His blue eyes pierce through mine, a silent reprimand paired with the constant grimace he wears.
His bitter view on life creates an intimidating version all are meant to see, but Marian, Papa, Jean, and I always try to see who can succeed at getting a hint of a smile from Pierre each new day.
Jean, Belmur’s second advisor, stands next to his partner. He is the nicer of the pair, his oval face long and his build slender. Astrong jaw shapes the gray beard he scratches as he catches me from the corner of his eye and winks.
A ghost of a grin lifts my cheeks as I stand next to Marian, who gazes at my father as he addresses each guest in his booming, cheery voice.
“Let us share a toast for Belmur’s princesses. May your nine-and-twentieth year of life be a delight as you both continue to shine a light upon us all! To Vivienne and Marian!” He raises his glass higher to the beige stone ceiling.
