Page 9 of Essence of the Throne

“Or aid it,” I interject, earning a sharp look from both men. I shrug. “What? We don’t know what thesecreaturesare. They could be useful.”

The prince shakes his head. “We can’t risk it. I won’t allow you down there, not without more information.”

I scoff as I rise from my seat, sheathing my blade. “Then, by all means,Your Highness, let’s get more information.”

The library is still a disaster from yesterday’s quake. Shards of glass litter the floor, glinting in the sunlight that now streams unobstructed through the shattered window. Books are strewn everywhere, their pages stuck open from their fall.

It seems the staff has cleaned up a bit, as the large piece of wood is no longer here.

I walk my way through the debris, my eyes scanning the shelves that remain intact. “We should start with the historical texts,” I mutter, more to myself than to Caspian.

Thank the Angel Gavriel did not insist on following the prince around like an obedient puppy, though I could tell the idiot wanted to. How in the Aether Caspian ever saw any redeeming qualities in the man is far beyond my comprehension abilities.

He nods, already moving toward a far corner of the room where the dustiest books rest. “I’ll check the older records. Maybe there’s something about the tunnels in the original castle blueprints.”

We work in silence for a while, the only sounds the rustling of pages and the occasional curse when one of us steps on a shard of glass. The quiet is almost peaceful, but there’s an undercurrent of tension that I can’t quite shake.

I run my fingers along the spines of the ancient texts, dust collecting on my fingertips as I search for anything remotely useful.

My mind races as I try to piece together the fragments of information I’ve gathered. The balance seems to be at the heart of everything. But how does it connect to the Accord? The Aether? To the strange creatures in the tunnels? To my parents’ cryptic warnings?

I pull out a promising-looking volume and flip through its yellowed pages, my eyes scanning for any mention of the Aether or the Accord. A few passages catch my attention, speaking of a delicate balance between realms, of cosmic forces that have been relied upon for centuries.

My eyes widen as I read an intriguing passage:

“The balance, the mystical force which binds both realms, flows through the veins of our land like lifeblood. It is the source of peace, the harmony of essence itself. But beware, for as the Accord gives, so too can it take away. Should the balance be disturbed, the very fabric of reality may unravel.”

I frown, my mind racing. This sounds eerily similar to what my father’s journal hinted at. The balance shifting, the Accord weakening…could it all be connected to the Aether?

I flip through more pages, searching for any further mention of the Accord. My frustration grows as I find nothing concrete, just vague allusions to ancient rituals and binding agreements. It’s as if the true nature of the Accord has been deliberately obscured—hidden from something that’s deemed a threat.

Or someone.

I force the useless book shut, dust puffing into the air. My eyes sting, though whether from the particles or dissatisfaction, I’m unsure. Tossing the text back on its shelf, I reach for another when a warm breath tickles my ear.

“Find anything interesting?”

I whirl, my hand darting to the blade at my hip. Caspian stands there, an infuriating smirk on his face. How did he manage to sneak up on me? My senses are slipping in his presence. Unacceptable.

“Nothing substantial,” I mutter, annoyed at both his stealth and my lack of progress. “You?”

His smirk widens as he holds up a weathering, leather-bound book. “Actually, I might have something. Look at this.”

He flips the book open to a marked page and points to a faded illustration. It shows a network of tunnels beneath what appears to be the entirety of Valoria, some branches stretching into the Elysaran Mountains. The calm I was beginning to feel melts away as a heavy weight settles in my gut.

“Fuck me—they’re not just under the castle.” I sigh and lean back against a shelf, crossing my arms. “There is no possible way we could search through every one of those tunnels within the next century.” I barely finish my words before the prince shakes his head.

“That’s not necessary,” he answers, running his fingers along the book he holds. “Whatever my father is doing is big. I know you’ve felt the essence emanating from him and how wrong it is.He wouldn’t risk something so important outside the castle walls. There are too many variables—too many people he would need to rely on to keep his secret. Here, he and Varrick can monitor things without seeming suspicious. I’m certain whatever we need to find is under the castle.”

I nod, considering his words. “You’re right.” His brows shoot up at the words. I may not normally speak with such kindness, but perhaps I’ll indulge him once in a while just to see this playful curiosity in his eyes some more. “It makes sense to focus on the castle tunnels. But even that’s a significant area to cover. We’ll need a plan.” I lean in closer, studying the illustration. The drawing is worn, but it’s easy enough to surmise the different landmarks illustrated along the pages. The castle, the guild, the lesser district. There is no mistaking the areas in which these tunnels run.

But why? Why are they there?

Though I wouldn't speak the words aloud, I trust Caspian’s word about the king. But I do not trust Thalion, and fuck if I’ll dismiss this entire map just because the prince believes his father doesn’t make use of it.

Caspian’s eyes meet mine, a determined glint in them. “We’ll start with the areas closest to where Gavriel heard those sounds. Work our way out from there.”

“And what about your guard dog, prince?” I ask, raising an eyebrow. “Will he be joining us on this little expedition? Now that you’ve informed him of everything we wanted to keep hidden, that is.”

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