Page 16 of Essence of the Throne

I pause in the family room, this one seeming the most lived-in. There is a chair on the opposite side that faces the entry hallway, which is perfect for my needs. Alexander should be home soon, if my memories recall correctly. He works as a tailor, catering tothe royal family and their guard, which keeps him out a majority of the day.

I drop into the chair, nodding behind me to where I want Caspian to stand. “Should you need reminding, you are not to speak or reveal your identity.”

He scoffs and settles in the area I’d indicated. “Yes,my queen.” I bark out a laugh, unable to stop myself. His tone is light and playful. I enjoy this side of him—too bad we have business to attend to.

A refreshing giddiness settles inside me as a door opens down the hall, clicking shut after a moment. I lean back and cross my legs, switching the blade to my right hand as I continue to twirl it through my fingers. Caspian may think I’mbeing funny, but if he so much as utters a word out of turn, I will slice his dick right off.

This isn’t a pathetic little meeting at the castle, nor is it a soiree with Eldorian nobles from other cities. This is my job—one I take very seriously.

It would be a pity, though—the prince losing his cock. It is quite nice.

I blow out a frustrated sigh. But in my world, threats are indeed binding, and Ialwaysfollow through with mine.

My eyes flick up as a lamp at the front of the room illuminates and our target sucks in a sharp breath. “Hello, Alexander,” I purr, exuding a confidence that was trained into me. The target moves the smallest step back, but I do not miss it. “Ah, ah. I don’trecall granting you permission to run. Try not to piss yourself just yet—we have matters to discuss.”

“You,” he breathes, stumbling back another step.

I stand in one fluid motion. My body is so in-sync with its ingrained focus that not even my fingers falter in twirling the blade as I move through the room, never taking my eyes from Alexander. I stop directly in front of him, smirking. My blade slides across the base of his neck, catching the beads of sweat that have accumulated there in the last minute. “Me.” A confirmation he does not need, but one I am too happy to give.

“Silver Wraith,” he grits out, his tone subdued. His gaze swings to Caspian as the prince adjusts his position behind me and my lip curls, slapping the blade against his already reddened cheek, the tip just barely nicking skin.

“Do not look at him. You answer to me tonight.” I step back and cross my feet, pivoting to the wall of photos Alexander keeps of him and his wife. “Actually, I’m in no mood for generosity. Unlucky for you. So if you so much as acknowledge his presence again, you and I will have some extra fun. He doesn’t exist to you—do you understand?” My head whips to the side, and I raise a brow, pressing for an answer.

“Yes, wraith.” The target breathes in deep, wiping a hand down the front of his cashmere jacket. He’s nervous. Good, he should be. “As…” He clears his throat, and I simply wait for him to find the confidence to continue with what I’m sure is meant to be an enlightening sentiment. “As honored as I am that you have graced me with your…presence, I do not believe we have any more business with each other.”

His gaze betrays him as the lines of his face crease imperceptibly when he looks at the photo I’m standing in front of. Him and his wife, drawn standing on a beach as they watch each other with smiles that promise forever.

A promise they had no right making.

“I decide when we have business, Alexander,” I snap. “Tell me how to find the Palmluvela.”

His face pales further, quite the juxtaposition to the dark panels that make up his walls. “I-I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

I advance on him, my patience wearing thin. “Don’t play dumb. We both know your thievery against them is the reason your wife is dead.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I see Caspian stiffen at my blunt words. I ignore him, focusing on the trembling man before me.

“Please,” Alexander whimpers. “I can’t…They’ll kill me if I reveal their location.”

I lean in close, my voice a deadly whisper. “And what do you think I’ll do if you don’t?”

The internal struggle that plays out across his face is satisfying. The fear of them versus the immediate threat I pose. I’ve seen this dance before, and I know how it ends.

“You don’t understand,” he pleads, a touch louder than me. “What I took from them…it’s not just some trinket. It’s powerful, dangerous. If they find out I’ve led others to them—”

“I’m not interested in your excuses,” I cut him off, pressing the sharp edge of my blade against his throat. “Location. Now.”

He swallows hard, and his throat bobs, jerking my hand. “There’s…you don’t find them, they find you.” My last nerve was desecrated with his non-answer. He must see the finality of my gaze because he barks out his next words as if he desperately needs to say them before I can move. “I’m not messing with you! The exact location of their community is unknown, but travel west through the forest, keeping south of Ebonwood. If your intentions are pure, they will find you.”

“Fuck, Alexander, you truly do not care for your life, do you? Will I meet the Angel there, too? The Aether?”

Alexander whips his head side to side. “It’s true! The forest is—it’s alive. Itprotectsthem.”

I step back, considering his words. It sounds like nonsense, but I’ve heard stranger things about the Verdantia Forest. And if he’s lying…well, I know where to find him. Even if he runs, he will meet his end with my blade. If he remains alive long enough to do so, that is.

“For your sake,” I say, voice low and menacing, “you better hope my intentions arepureenough for them.”

He deflates, though whether in relief or utter defeat, I’m unsure. “I swear on my life, it’s the truth.”

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