Page 146 of Beast and Remedy
My heart thunders as heat explodes across my cheeks. I avert my gaze, tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear and mumbling, “You know what I mean.”
Beau sweeps more of my waves behind my shoulder and kisses my collarbone. “I know what you mean. And I like your idea.”
His lips trail up my throat, leaving goose bumps across my skin. I grip the bedsheets, biting back a moan. But when our mouths meet, I cave and hum with pleasure.
Beau withdraws. “You’ll try talking to Princess Sybille tonight, and as a backup, I can personally invite Queen Verena and her daughter to Torgem in the morning before we depart.”
I pout teasingly. “Do you want me to ask her instead since you say I’m sopersonable?”
“Well, it was your idea. And if you don’t succeed, I’ll have to throw a party.”
I snicker at his feigned annoyance. “Maybe youshouldthrow a party. I think your name day should be celebrated.”
He scoots closer, his body pressing against mine as he smirks. “Says the woman who hates parties.”
I thread my fingers at the nape of his neck, laughing under my breath and kissing him before sighing contentedly. “I might hate them for myself, but I don’t hate them for the people I love.”
He brushes his nose along mine and guides me back against the pillow. A giggle escapes me when he jolts upright and hurries to lock the door.
And when he returns, nestling between my legs and descending, Isavorit, reveling in Beau catering to my aching and never-ending need of him before we have to dress for dinner.
32
Secrets and Sympathies
After cleaning up and dressing, we venture down the stone hallway, taking a rounded staircase as the sunset and summer’s heat pierce through the small windows.
Vexation swirls from the multiple levels we drift down, and my energy nears depletion.
All because of thesefuckingstairs.
I wipe away the sweat along my hairline and catch my breath when we step into a marvelous foyer, smothered in more pastel hues like in my bedchamber.
Floor-to-ceiling glass panes offer natural light to illuminate the gilded frames of portraits on the right. Our shadows bounceoff each painting as we pass, an illusion making me feel like the deceased ancestors track our movements.
A deep purple rug with gold trim drapes across the white marble tile as Beau guides me down another hall with similar coloring as the one we strolled through. We saunter past doors and halls andmorestairs, and I plead to the Makers I don’t have to descend anymore.
Yet my prayer is fleeting by the lack of stationed guards.
Awareness and foreboding cling to my bones, my shoulders stiffening with worry.
Does Queen Verena deem her home safe enough for the absence of protection? Or has she had to disperse her own men to where the infection lingers in her lands?
Light chatter and hushed conversations fill the corridor as we approach opened doors, and two guards stand at attention when we enter the dining room.
I almost sag in relief. Thank the Makers. At least there issomesecurity for Queen Verena and Princess Sybille.
I lean into Beau, marveling at the long, gilded table stretching the length of the room, matching chairs lined up on each side with two larger ones at the ends.
Our hostesses are not yet present, and everyone carries on discussions without noticing our arrival.
“It appears we all want to leave an impression,” Beau murmurs.
After we bathed and enjoyed each other for a second time, Beau went to inform everyone of our plan.
Marcel, Jules, and Christine sit on the left, and Marian and Leo are seated adjacent to the others, both groups farthest from the head of the table, where the queen and her daughter will be sitting.
Beau stops at the second vacant spot on the right and pulls out the chair for me. He takes my hand, his thumb brushing along my knuckles as he helps me into my seat.
