Page 69 of Beast and Remedy
Pulling away, his golden irises pin me in place, his breath still heavy as he says, “I can’t even begin to tell you how long I have waited to do that.”
I draw in his scent, sighing at the hollowness in my chest filling the more I remain in his arms. “H-How long?”
His lips caress my forehead, lingering. “Seven years.”
Tears spring forth, and I pinch my eyes shut, understanding the gravity of those two simple words. We remain quiet, so muchhistory hanging in the balance and so much at stake in the present.
This moment will never be enough, but deep down, it has to be.
I sniff, blinking away the tears before he can see. My waves fall forward as I move off his lap, hating every second of it.
Beau tucks the loose strands behind my ear, his eyes soft and filled with tenderness.
Even though I want to drown in his warmth and love, I need to steer us back toward my purpose here.
“Do you think your magic could help?” I ask. “Can you heal Marian?”
His jaw flexes, his expression solemn as he replies, “My gifts go as far as my knowledge does. If I don’t know anything about it, I can’t treat it. And even if I did learn about it, my power cannot completely fix an illness or someone’s injury. Just bring them to a point of stability. Going beyond disrupts the balance of life and death.”
I slump against the couch and cover my heart from the anxiety expanding from my chest, seeking to absorb my entire being.
Beau interlaces his fingers with mine. “But maybe I can treat Marian’s symptoms as they come. Try to buy us some time.”
I meet his hopeful, stunning smile. “Y-You think that could work?”
“I do.”
Guilt threatens to eat me from the inside out, and I don’t deserve this possibility. But Marian’s face flashes in my mind, and I close my eyes, taking everything in.
If there isanychance to keep Marian from dying—any chance to give me enough time to find a cure—I have to take it. I’ll submit to all the heartbreak and consequences when I see Papa again.
I’ll even damn myself into Oblivion if it means Marian will live.
“Okay.” I finally cave, rising.
“Wait.” Beau latches onto my wrist before I’ve taken a step. Confusion lines his features as he asks, “Is that all you have to say?”
“Yes.” I lace every word with indifference, even though my soul is breaking. “I need to rest if we are setting out tomorrow.” I drop my gaze before I can see the hope shatter in his eyes as he releases me.
My heart fissures as I see myself out. And each step I take away from my favorite place and my favorite person amplifies those cracks, a chasm swallowing me whole.
Autumn, the Makers Year 1013
Dear Beau,
It has been a while since I’ve received a letter from you. Did you get my last one? I accepted your apology and said you could call me Rosebud.
I’ve been reading about sculptures and architecture, and I was hoping we could share more of what we’ve both learned the next time our kingdoms visited one another.
From,
Vi
16
The Definition of a Monarch
Esme, Hugo, Veryon, and Odette join us the following morning, reviewing the meeting they had last night with Beau. Everyone agreed our friends would accompany us, Marcel and Leo being added protection, and Jules and Christine lending a hand in research and tonics.
