Shadows of Demise (The Warrior Angels Trilogy - Book 3)

Chapter Forty-Five

As Beatrice ran toward the barracks, she could hear the crowd still chanting and cheering. She picked up her pace and stumbled slightly each time she nearly tripped on her gown. But she managed to reach the building in one piece, and she staggered inside, calling out the name of the person who could never respond.

Richard peered out of the drawing room, frowning. "What are you doing here, Beatrice? Should you not be addressing the people?"

Beatrice gestured to the door. "Do you not hear them out there? Cheering their future king—the glorious warrior who saved us all."

"What are you saying?" Richard drew his brows together.

She averted her eyes. "He receives the credit because he is a man... and magic does not exist." Then she glanced over where Ashton still lied. She brought her hands up to her mouth and shook her head.

Richard gently wrapped his arms around her and pulled her closer. She embraced him in return and closed her eyes.

"None of this should have happened," she whispered. "I left him there. He urged me to leave, and I shouldn't have listened." She heard Richard laugh softly.

"Because he wanted to protect you," he said. "Ashton always loved you, Beatrice. I feel awful saying it, but even now, I could see it in his eyes."

Beatrice pulled back, her chest tingling from how rapidly her heart raced. 

"He would have never admitted it to me or anyone, but I do not think he ever stopped loving you."

She touched Richard's arm when she felt her lower lip quivering. He frowned and looked away, and she dropped her hand as she made her way to Ashton. It seemed horrid to say how peaceful Ashton appeared to be, but he did. The color of his skin was still vibrant, and his lips were a soft pink.

Beatrice leaned forward and rested the side of her face against his chest. There was no sound, no heartbeat. Yet she stayed like that, pretending she felt a warmth that no longer existed. After a short moment, she heard Richard approach.

"You can't let everyone believe Luc is the hero," he said. "You deserve your glory, Beatrice."

"And frighten everyone with magic?" Beatrice took a deep breath and stood upright. She stroked Ashton's hair and then settled her hand on his freckled cheek. "No, Aristol does not need another crisis, and I do not need glory. The rest of us are alive and well. Is that not enough?"

"Do you honestly believe that?"

"Of course not. But what choice do I have?"

"What did your mother say or do? I know this has everything to do with her. You cannot let her win—" Richard paused when Beatrice raised her hand.

"Let us not discuss this," she pleaded, thumbing Ashton's cheek. "Not here... not right now. It may seem like such a loss, but I promise you it will not be."

"I don't understand."

Beatrice smiled as she peered back at him. "Merely trust me, Richard."

Richard raised his eyebrows and nodded. "I always have, haven't I?"

"And I will be grateful to you for the rest of my life." Beatrice glanced down at Ashton one more time and mouthed words she'd never dared utter to anyone else.

I love you.

---

"Your Majesty!" Jeanette called from down the corridor.

Beatrice swallowed hard and turned around, slowing her pace for Jeanette to catch up to her. "Your voice carries an urgency, Jeanette. Is something wrong?" Then she sighed and rolled her eyes. "When isn't there something wrong?" Nearly two weeks had passed since Luc was proclaimed a hero, and it seemed the air felt thicker and thicker every day.