Page 234 of Beast and Remedy
Beau holds the door open, and my father steps inside.
Tove moves next, but her husband stops her. She squares her shoulders with defiance.
Jerrick looks at her swollen belly before meeting her gaze once more. “Please?”
The moment, clearly meant to be private between them, is seen by us all, and Tove relents and extends a hand to me, Leo, and Marcel. “You three want to go in?”
Marcel removes his hold on me. “I’ll stay outside with you, Queen Tove.”
Jerrick extends his thanks as Leo and I share a nervous exchange.
I don’t know if he’s ready to see Marian, if the pain she gave me is could be similar to what he feels.
“You don’t have to,” I say, preparing to walk in the cell myself if needed.
“No, I will.” He keeps us both steady as we enter the large room, standing close to Beau.
Papa crosses his arms, and the King of Palaena lingers near Marian’s limp form tied to a chair.
The candlelight flickers against Jerrick’s prominent scar as he asks Beau, “Do you need me to stay after she is awake?”
“I don’t know why you need to stay in the first place,” Papa mutters with aggravation.
Jerrick gestures to my sister’s prone body. “I’m the one who made her unconscious. I can wake her up and make her go back under should you ask it.”
My father cocks his head. “How?”
“I read it in a book,” the King of Palaena replies with nonchalance.
“You? Read?” Papa guffaws.
Jerrick smirks, his scar pinching and blue irises sparking. “How else would I learn how to revive a person,Bernie?”
A foreboding warning deep in my bones. No matter how vast his library is, a part of it has to be his abilities. What if his magic is knowledge-based like Beau’s?
Papa grumbles under his breath before motioning for Jerrick to proceed.
The King of Palaena touches Marian and steps toward the cell wall, closest to his wife. The visible stitch of protection doesn’t go unnoticed by me. His eyes catch mine as my twin rouses, and I study him carefully, but he nudges his chin to direct my focus.
I hold my breath, nausea swimming and churning, incapable of deciding whether to settle or escape.
Marian’s peaceful rest turns into frantic movements, and when she lifts her head, sweat clings to her skin and damp hair. Her eyes are wide, bulging and inflamed.
A wicked smile spreads, and Marian breaks into a cackle. “My, my, my. A gathering for me?” Her eyes twitch as she takes in our silence. “How monumental.”
Beau steps forward. “Marian Sylvaine, do you understand why you are here?”
A loud, ear-piercing shriek escapes Marian so dark and chilling it sends shivers up my spine at the completely different person in front of me. Abruptly, she ceases, darting her attention to our father.
She pouts, blinking rapidly. “Papa, please listen to me. It wasn’t me. It was Beau. No, it was Vivienne. No, it was both.”
Papa inhales a sharp breath as she tilts her head in an awkward angle toward me, her demeanor shifting.
“Vivienne, why? Why did you have to be the firstborn? Why did the Makers bless you and not us? It’s you! It’s your fault. You caused this—startedthis. I will”—she forces her body to scoot toward me—“make you pay. Make you all pay!”
Her crazed features grow as she recounts every vicious thing she has hated about me. “It was you who did this to me. YOU!”
Tears stream down her cheeks, despite the anger in her voice, and the infection takes hold.
