Page 66 of Essence of the Throne

I bellow a laugh, the sound hollow and cold, though I will admit that was humorous. “Is that right?” I yank my blade free and press it to his cheek in one fluid motion. The seething man stills as he favors the wound I created. “We both know how that would end,” I taunt, wiping my blade free of blood along the lines of his face.

"Marek will hear of this." His eyes dart to Caspian, who has moved to stand at the side of the desk, his posture guarded. “As will the king.” The prince just smiles and shrugs.

“Good.” I slap the blade against his cheek, directing the attention back to me. “Now talk.”

He swallows hard, throat bobbing against my blade. “Fine. Yes, the king came here. Wanted one of our best girls for his competition. Said to keep it quiet.”

“And you just agreed? No questions asked?”

“He paid well for my discretion.” Thaddeus’ lips curl. “Very well.”

“What else?” When he hesitates, I press harder. “I know there’s more, so let us not continue this exhausting back and forth. Because I will win every single time.”

He grimaces, sucking in a breath. “He—he said to make it look like we’d sent three, the same as the other guilds, but only two were to actually compete.” Interesting. I knew there was no chance Ally made it through those trials alone; she may have been an impressive fighter, but physical strength does not correlate to that of the mind.

“Why?” Caspian demands, speaking to Thaddeus for the first time since we entered.

“I don’t know.” Thaddeus meets my gaze, holding his good hand up in a placating gesture. “I swear it. He didn’t explain, just paid and left.”

I study him for a long moment before lowering my blade. He’s telling the truth—or at least, what he believes to be the truth. Fuck. I was hoping we’d findsomethinghere. I exchange a look with Caspian, both of us in agreement: this is a dead end.

“If that’s all you know,” I say, sheathing my blade, “we’ll take our leave.”

“Wait.” Thaddeus opens a drawer and pulls out a pen, a moment later handing me a folded piece of paper. “Ally’s family. They still live here in Meridian. She only worked for me on a part-time basis, so she did not live here with the others. Perhaps they know something I do not.”

I snatch the paper from him, memorizing the address before tucking it away andwalking from the room.

We leave the guild in silence, emerging into the late afternoon sun. The streets are quieter now, most merchants packing up their wares for the day.

“Well, that was enlightening,” Gavriel mutters.

I ignore him, spinning to Caspian. His eyes find mine and soften. “We should find Bastian. I’ll bet the fool knows more about this than Ally’s family, if the way he looked at her in Valoria before the ball was any indication.”

“Agreed. My father visits here too often to ignore my cousin.” Caspian stretches his neck and runs a hand through his hair. I nearly lose myself in the strands that shift with the warm breeze. “But not right now. We’re all exhausted, and Bastian’s estate is on the other side of the city. We should rest first.”

As much as I hate to admit it, he’s right. I’d sooner work myself to death before choosing to rest on my own. But my limbs feel heavy from the long ride, and my mind is sluggish from lack of sleep. So I nod once.

“Fine.” I search the rows of buildings, spotting a sign down the way. “There’s an inn toward the docks. Should be decent enough.”

The inn turns out to be better than decent, with clean rooms and fresh linens. The innkeeper barely blinks at my hair or Caspian’s fine clothes, just hands over two keys and points us toward the stairs before disappearing. What a strange city.

“Two rooms?” I raise an eyebrow at the prince.

He shrugs, a small smile playing at his lips. “Gav needs his beauty sleep. Wouldn’t want to disturb him by all of us sharing just one.”

I roll my eyes but snatch one of the keys from his hand and jog up the stairs. The room is simple but comfortable, with a large bed and a window overlooking the harbor. The sun is setting, painting the water in brilliant oranges and pinks. It’s extraordinary.

It reminds me of the paintings I used to see in Valoria—the ones meant to romanticize far-off places I never cared to see. But this…this isalive. So different from any feeling a piece of art could invoke.

The smell of salt on the breeze, the gentle lap of waves against the docks, the atmosphere—it’s not something a canvas could ever capture. For a moment, I let myself wonder if there’s a world out there, past the horizon, where things are simpler. Where people live without wasting decades on a revenge they’ll never get.

A knock at the door startles me, and I know it’s Caspian before I open it—his essence has become as familiar to me as my own. Something I do not even need my psionic strand to feel.

“Thought you might be hungry,” he says, holding up a bottle of wine and what smells like fresh bread.

I step aside to let him in, watching as he sets the items on a small table by the window. He moves with an easy grace that still catches me off guard sometimes.

“Where’s your shadow?” I ask as I cross my arms, referring to Gavriel.

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