Page 96 of Essence of the Throne

“Drunk on power, yes,” she continues in a silky tone. “But the entire realm just watched you both murder him.”

My chest tightens at Seraphina’s words, but her features soften as she takes in Caspian’s pained expression. “I don’t blame you, my son. That man…he was not the one I married. The king I loved would never have harmed children or hurt his own son.” In one graceful move, she rises to cup Caspian’s face. “I feared for you and Vespera. His obsession with power consumed him entirely, and try as I might, I could not stop him.”

I sit straighter, the weight of her words pressing on my chest. “And yet you don’t seem surprised.”

She turns her sharp gaze on me, her mouth twitching in what might be amusement—or warning. “I loved my husband once, wraith. But I stopped being surprised when his choices began tearing our family apart. If anything, you’ve spared us further destruction.” Her voice softens, though her expression remains unreadable. “But don’t mistake my relief for trust. You may have saved my son’s life, but that doesn’t mean I will allow you to destroy him in other ways.”

Caspian’s shoulders tense as he leans forward on his elbows. “Do not speak to her like that. I am sorry about father; I never wished for it to come to this, but you will not take those emotions out on Ariella.”

She considers his words before stroking his cheek once, stepping back. Why does that bother me so much? “What’s done is done. For now, I will remain queen until you are ready to take the throne.” Her eyes slide to me for a mere heartbeat, and though there’s still wariness in them, the open hostility has faded. “We must hold a ceremony for your father tomorrow to maintainappearances. Though I suspect no one in this room particularly cares for such formalities.”

I bite back a smirk at her pointed look. At least she’s honest about it.

Her attention flicks between the two of us, her gaze lingering on Caspian. “You may have stopped him, but the nobles will not forgive easily. They’ll demand answers, and some will see you as weak for letting her”—she nods toward me—“influence your actions.”

Caspian’s jaw tightens, but I speak before he can entertain this argument his mother seems devoted to having. “If the court has any questions, they can bring them to me. I’d be happy to explain just how close they came to dying under their king's rule.” My tone is saccharine, but the meaning is sharp. Seraphina’s lips thin, though her eyes glimmer with approval.

“After the ceremony, Ariella and I have some matters to attend to,” Caspian states, his tone carefully neutral.

Seraphina’s smile drops, eyes narrowing. “What matters?”

“Just some loose ends that need tying up after Father.” He shrugs, but there’s tension in his shoulders that wasn’t there before.

I find it curious that he doesn’t mention the Accord to his mother. Perhaps he shares my instinct that the fewer people who know about it, the better. I wouldn’t stop him if he chose to tell her, but I am pleased with his decision.

Seraphina hums and turns to leave, dismissing us. I can’t resist asking, “Your Majesty, are you fond of Varrick?”

She pauses at the door, a knowing smirk curving her lips. “No.” With that, she’s gone, leaving me to wonder just how much the queen knows about what happens in her castle. And what a strange reaction to a threat on her chief advisor.

Almost makes me like her.

As she leaves, I glance at Caspian, my curiosity getting the better of me. “What’s her deal with him?”

“Varrick?” He shrugs, expression hardening. “She tolerates him because she has to, but if she could replace him, she’d do it without hesitation. He was the king’s choice, not hers.”

“Interesting.” My mind races with possibilities. “Well, perhaps I should replace him for her.”

Caspian’s smirk is faint but wicked. “Perhaps.”

I jump up, suddenly full of energy, ready to change and deal with the late king’s snake before he has a chance to flee. My eyes find Caspian, who remains seated, his face twisted in discomfort.

“What’s wrong?” I ask, pausing in my rush to leave for our rooms.

He shakes his head, blinking several times. “I’m not sure. Something just feels…off under my skin. Heavy. I’m sure it’s just lasting effects of whatever Thalion did.”

That answer makes my skin crawl, especially after healing him, but I push the feeling aside for now. “I’ll be back. I need to have a chat with Varrick.”

Caspian springs up, a sudden hardness falling over his features. “Weneed to speak with Varrick.”

I don’t even bother arguing this time—I’m learning to pick my battles with this insufferable prince.

He grins as if I’d just spoken out loud. “Look at that. I’m finally winning you over.”

“Keep teasing and I’ll change my mind.” But there’s no heat in my words, and his answering laugh shoots warmth through my abdomen.

After I change, we venture to Varrick’s office, and when Caspian raises a fist to knock, I roll my eyes and push right past him. Varrick flies out of his chair at our dramatic entrance, outrage clear on his features until he registers who has invaded his space. He attempts to compose himself, but I can practically smell his fear. It's delicious.

“Your Highness, I wasn’t expecting—”

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