Page 17 of Essence of the Throne

“Your life isn’t worth much these days, is it?” I remark, turning away from him. “Come,” I say to Caspian, not bothering to look back as I head for the door.

Alexander reaches for his bottle of cider, though before he can chug the heady liquid, the prince is there snatching it from his hand. “Don’t,” Caspian mutters, setting the bottle back on the wearing mantle. My teeth grind from the effort it takes to not castrate him right here, and I am quite impressed with my level of control.

The moment we are outside and in an alley, however, that minute amount of control snaps. I whirl on the prince and grab his throat, shoving back against the brick wall. I rip the mask from his face, tossing the stupid thing aside.

“What part of ‘do not speak’ did you not understand?” I hiss, my face a mere inch from his. His scent is a distraction I do not need, but I allow myself to indulge for a few moments.

Caspian’s eyes widen, though he doesn’t struggle against my grip. “You think I didn’t see you drop something in his cider, Ariella? The man didn’t deserve to die when he gave you the answers you sought after.” He’s not wrong. I did slip phecin into the cider when we’d arrived, though I hardly think it warrants such a reaction. The man could have tossed the alcohol before consuming it—unlikely, but possible. The colorless, odorless poison would have had him dead within the hour after bleeding out internally.

Relatively painless. I deem that a mercy, considering what I’d wanted to do to him instead.

“Fuck’s sake, Caspian. Must you be sonoble?” I squeeze his throat harder, relishing the way I hold his life in my hand. “Thatwas not your decision to make.” The ire in his eyes prickles the hair along my neck; I’ve not seen him look so angry before.

I’m unsure of whether I’m amused or annoyed.

“My apologies, Silver Wraith, I wasn’t aware you were above everyone else and your word was final.” I chuckle, the sound low and malicious. I am certainly annoyed.

“Iamabove all of them—that’s part of the depravity you claim to love so much about me. I do not fucking care whether he deserved to die or not, but it wasmydecision.” My throat tightens at the hurt in his eyes, though I continue. “You need to understand something, prince. I have been telling you the truth of myself since the day we met, and yet you’ve continued to insist that you want every part of me, killer and all. This,” I gesture between us, “is precisely why I haven’t believed you. I knew that your opinions would change the very first peek you got into this part of my life.”

“Well here I am, Caspian. Take a good fucking look, because I change for no one. So you’d better decide if your declarations are true, or if your feelings are just as every other man who becomes infatuated with me because fucking someone with my reputation will win them bragging rights amongst others.” He grunts as I shove into him, pushing from my spot and stalking back toward the castle, my fists clenched at my sides. The cool night air does little to soothe the fire raging inside me.

Fuck him. Fuck his nobility and his misplaced sense of morality. I’ve been perfectly clear about who and what I am from thestart. If he can’t handle it, that’s something he needs to deal with—alone.

And yet…

A small voice in the back of my mind whispers doubts I’ve been trying to ignore. What if he’s right to be appalled? I am the monster everyone believes me to be. I am the subject of stories told in the night and the fear that crests when they take one look at my hair.

I shake my head, trying to banish the thoughts. I cannot afford to second-guess myself now. Not when there’s so much at stake. Stupid that I’ve allowed the prince—a man, of all things—to make me question myself.

But the hurt lingers, an unwelcome ache in my chest. For just a moment, I’d allowed myself to hope that maybe, just maybe, someone could accept all of me. The bad and the worse, the dark and the shadows.

How foolish of me.

I’m the Silver Wraith—a product of this regency’s making. I do not need acceptance or understanding. I need no one.

Then why is it so painful?

I quicken my pace, desperate to put distance between myself and these unwanted emotions. The mission comes first—finding the Palmluvela, getting answers. Everything else is a distraction.

At least that’s what I’ll tell myself.

Chapter Five

Ariella

Isuck in a deep breath, the calm of the night settling in my lungs. I may have overreacted, but there are times when I want to rip Caspian's head clean from his body. I wouldn't—couldn't—so my possibly exaggerated reactions are the next best thing.

This part of Valoria smells of warm bread, mixed with the sharp tang of smoke from chimneys and the faint hint of herbs from open windows. The city is shrouded in darkness, with only a few flickering lamps lighting the streets, and my shadows beg to come out and play. It’s dark enough to hide them, but I’m in no mood. I need to release some essence soon, however. Each ripple under my skin drives me mad, and I do not wish to deal with the buildup any longer.

Something wraps around my arm, and I have my blade against the prince’s wrist before my next heartbeat.

“Do that again and you’ll find yourself sympathizing with the pain your cousin was in on the night of the ball.” He chuckles, calming the tension between our bodies.

“Bastard deserved much worse than that.” True. His gaze softens as he maps every bit of my face, as if he didn’t see it just a fewminutes ago. “I fear my words came out wrong before…I didn’t intend to upset you.”

I blink. “And what did you intend?”

He shrugs, gesturing forward to continue our trek back to his home. “Honestly, I just wanted to give the guy a break and didn’t think it would matter to you either way.” More laughter leaves him as he turns his head toward me, his eyes lighting up with something I do not care to discern. “I swear to the Angel I thought he was about to piss himself when he saw you—it was magnificent.” I offer a nod in response.

---