Page 57 of Essence of the Throne

Ariella’s eyes narrow. “Your mother notices more than she lets on.” Her tone carries a hint of suspicion, but I ignore it. The woman is suspicious about everything. “But yes, I agree. Though we need to be strategic about this; the king is not exactly leaving them lightly guarded anymore.”

We reach the lake at the far end of the gardens, its usually peaceful surface reflecting an overcast sky. The water appears almost metallic today, reminding me of Ariella’s hair. I lean against the old oak tree that’s stood sentinel here for over a century, its thick trunk offering some privacy from prying eyes, though I haven’t seen the normal abundance of faces mulling around today.

“What if we—” I start, but Ariella holds up a hand, silencing me. Her head tilts as she studies the lake’s surface.

“What is that?” she murmurs, approaching the water’s edge. I follow her gaze but see nothing unusual at first. Then I notice it—small droplets of water beginning to rise from the surface, and a sinking feeling drowns out all other thoughts. The drops hover like suspended tears before falling back down, creating ripples that spread across the lake’s surface in circular patterns.

More water begins to rise, forming floating spheres that catch what little sunlight breaks through the clouds. It’s beautiful in anunsettling way, like watching smoke curl into impossible shapes. The display reminds me of the stories my mother used to tell about the Aether realm, how sometimes strange things would occur and defy the normalcy we’ve come to know in this realm.

“By the Angel…” I breathe, unable to look away from the preternatural display.

"What in the Aether." Ariella’s voice is subdued, her usual sharp edges dulled by what almost resembles concern. She trails off, her gaze fixed on a particularly large sphere of water rising to the height of the tree. Whatever force holds it falters, and the water crashes back into the lake with a resounding slap. I frown at the noise, turning to my companion as she bristles beside me.

I want to reach for her, to pull her close and shield her from whatever is coming. But I know better—she’d likely break my arm for trying. Still, the protective urge burns deep within me. I’ve watched her fight griffins, take down multiple attackers while poisoned, and face my father without flinching. Yet something about her expression now, as she observes the water go against nature itself, makes me want to gather her in my arms and never let go.

She pivots to face me, the usual hardness returning to her eyes, though there’s more there too—determination maybe? Or fear? It’s sometimes impossible to tell with her as she’s seemed to have perfected her mask of emotions over the years. “I need to speak with Marek.”

“I’ll come with you,” I offer, already knowing her answer.

She shakes her head, a hint of amusement crossing her features. “No. You have that meeting with your father, and I need to handle this alone.” Her tone leaves no room for argument, though that’s never stopped me before.

But the mention of the king sobers me. I would do just about anything to keep from going to this meeting—another discussion aboutsecuring the kingdom’s futurethat is promised to be more justifications for stealing children from their families. My stomach turns at the thought. I don’t know if I’ll be able to hold in my raging thoughts, but I must try. Especially if Ariella will be away for a while. Who knows what my father will attempt to do to either of us. He seems hesitant to try anything when we’re together, but he’s right to fear the woman next to me, even if he doesn’t know her secrets.

“Fine,” I concede, though everything in me rebels against letting her go alone. “But promise me you’ll be careful. Father’s men are everywhere in the city now, and after what happened with the crowd earlier, I do not trust anyone around you.” Hopefully, the people of Valoria still have enough sense to not provoke the Silver Wraith.

The lake’s surface continues its unnatural display, and my hands itch at what it means.We've already seen the effects through the unnatural weather phenomena.Ariella stands at the water’s edge, too close for my comfort, no doubt doing it deliberately just to get under my skin.

“I don’t like this,” I mutter, moving to stand beside her.

She hums in agreement, her eyes tracking another sphere of water as it rises. “As if we needed another fucking reminder of the damn balance.”

“Just another thing my father’s to blame for.” The words taste bitter on my tongue as my fists clench at my sides.

“Precisely.” Her voice carries that edge it gets when she’s piecing something together. “Though this is more intense from the other signs we've seen. The other signs were more subtle, or what I’m thinking are signs, at least. This is”—She gestures to the floating water—“like the ground shaking.”

I chew on my lip before stuffing both hands in my pockets. “And you think Marek will have information?”

“Yes.” She finally tears her gaze from the lake to look at me. Her bright eyes study me, considering, before she continues. “I need to kill him, Caspian. This stops now.”

My chest tightens at her words. She’s right—we’d barely made it through the castle gates before witnessing his latest atrocity. The memory of those parents’ screams lingers in my head, mixing with the sound of water droplets falling back to the lake’s surface.

“I know.” I step closer, lowering my voice, though we’re alone. “But like you said, we need to be smart about this. There’s far more than just royal sentries here. I’ve seen many direct from Frostwell, which cannot be a good sign.” I pause and consider my words. “Actually, their bi-annual competition is supposed to begin tomo—”

“I don’t fucking care.” She cuts me off, but there’s no real heat in her voice. “I will personally remove each of their heads if that’s the kind of show Thalion wants before I send him to the Angel.”

The admission shouldn’t warm my chest the way it does. Angel help me, I was truly fucked up to feel pleased that she’d chosen to murder my father instead of me, and now I feel warm at her increasing threats? Foolish.

“I want to ask you something,” I blurt before I lose my nerve. “The things my mother said about yours—”

“Not now.” She glances around, though I know she’d have sensed if anyone was near. “Yourmotheris far too perceptive. I trust her not one hair more than I do your father.”

I want to defend my mother, but we don’t have time to sit and argue about trivial opinions.

“Fine. But we will discuss it later.” Not a question, though surprising when she nods once, the movement sharp and decisive.

“After I speak with Marek.” Her eyes drift back to the lake as she bites down on that fucking lip. “You should go. Your father will be waiting. And don’t listen to a fucking thing he says, all the man seems to do is lie.” She frowns as her tone shifts to something harder, more familiar.

I swallow around the growing thickness in my throat. “I know.” And I do. The king sitting on that throne isn’t my father anymore—hasn’t been for a while, and I’ve ignored that fact far too long. “Will you come find me after you speak with Marek?”

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