Page 37 of Essence of the Throne

I study his face for signs of deceit but find none. The Palmluvela are rumored to be nearly mythical, with a connection to the land that borders on sacred—I’m certain that is who I’mdealing with right now. And they don’t waste time with empty threats. But I can’t let down my guard, not even for a moment. I’d be forced to use much of my essence to kill them all if they attack, but I’m prepared for just that.

“And if I say no?” I press, my grip steady on the blade. Caspian and I began this journey to find them, to gather answers. But they do not need to be privy to just how desperate I’ve been for this moment.

“You won’t,” he states as if it's that simple. “The forest has its ways of guiding even the most stubborn souls.”

The unsettling calm in his voice leaves a sour taste in my mouth. “What the fuck does that even mean?” The blade twirls through my fingers.

He smiles, the movement a little eerie. “It means that the forest does not ask twice. But you already know that, don’t you?” he adds, his voice full of peculiar certainty.

I shake my head as my eyes roam the group forming a half-moon around me and the tent. Their skin isn’t painted—it’s marked, almost like the veins of leaves, pulsing with deep greens and browns that seem to shift with the light just as the forest around us. Not tattoos. Something more…alive.

Their clothes are practical but strange, woven from fibers that shimmer faintly like dew on grass at dawn. No bright colors or bold patterns; just soft, natural hues that let them blend seamlessly into their surroundings. It’s clever. Calculated. Every movement is silent, each step deliberate, like the forest itself gave them permission to exist here.

But it’s their eyes that stand out—sharp, vivid, knowing. There’s a weight in the way they look at me, a kind of judgment that doesn’t need words, and I cannot decide if I should consider it a threat.

“Where is your leader?” They stare. It’s difficult to hold in the product of my irritation. “Surely you weren’t sent to findmewithout a leader?”

A low rustling comes from the tent behind me. I tense, prepared to defend Caspian as he stumbles out and rubs sleep from his eyes.

“Was it really necessary to have this party without me?” he mumbles, blinking at the scene like he’s just walked into a casual conversation. I’d laugh if I wasn’t so on edge.

I risk stepping back to his side, finding an alert prince waiting. “Stay next to me.” The words barely leave my mouth, but he hears them all the same.

He nods and glances around at the gathering of the Palmluvela, his expression shifting to something malignant. “And here I thought the morning couldn’t get any better,” he quips, offering a lazy grin to the nearest person.

If I could strangle him…

“Your prince is bold,” the man I’ve been speaking with observes, a hint of amusement in his tone.

“Foolish,” I correct, shifting in front of Caspian without hesitation. “And under my protection.”

Before Caspian can retort, a figure emerges from the shadows—a tall, imposing man with sharply lined features and a solemn presence. His skin is painted in swirling patterns of greenand gold, streaks that shift through his black hair and blend into the surrounding forest as if he is a living part of it. He moves gracefully, but his silence is fucking commanding. This is who I asked for.

“This is Rael,” the man who led me out of the tent announces. “Our leader. He will speak with you.”

But Rael does not speak. Instead, he begins moving his hands in a fluid, deliberate series of gestures. His eyes, sharp and discerning, stay fixed on mine as he does so.

Another man steps forward to translate. “Rael greets you as the Silver One—the Serathis—and the Prince of Eldoria. He apologizes for the intrusion, but says it was necessary to ensure your intentions. You have entered sacred ground…words can lie, but the flora cannot be deceived.”

Rael’s gaze is intense, but I don’t waver. “We’re here for answers,” I remark, keeping my voice steady. “To understand what’s happening to the realms.” Curiously, the translator does not relay the message, Rael seeming to have either heard me or read my lips, though it’s much too dark for the latter.

The leader’s response is quick, his hands a blur of graceful motions. “The answers you seek come with a price,” the translator says. “The forest does not give without taking something in return. You must be prepared to face what is required.”

My jaw tightens at the cryptic answer. “What price?” I demand.

Rael’s hands move again, slower this time, as if choosing each word with care. “The price is not just the past, but the present. You will be tested, not just by the essence but by the choices youmake from this point forward. Only then will you earn the full truth.”

“Fuck’s sake, this is ridiculous,” I murmur to myself. A chill settles in the air, mingling with the damp grass beneath us. “Fine,” I say louder, straightening my stance. “But know this: if I senseanydeceit, you won’t have time to regret it.”

Rael’s lips twitch into a faint smile—one that holds no malice, only acknowledgment. He raises a hand, motioning for us to follow. The others step aside, parting like everyone does when I amble in their direction.

“Walk ahead of me,” I instruct Caspian, handing him his pack and thanking the fucking Angel he doesn’t challenge me this time.

He chuckles, peering over his shoulder. “I love your domineering side.”

I roll my eyes, already regretting bringing him into this mess. “Just try not to die before we get some answers.”

He grins, but the humor doesn’t reach his eyes. “I’ll do my best.”

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