Page 98 of Essence of the Throne

“Tell that to whoever painted this then,” I gesture to the artwork. “Because this is exactly what I saw when—” I clear my throat, pivoting from the art. “In a dream I had the other night.” I’m not ready to discuss that encounter—with his father or my mother—as I have yet to process it myself. “I think we have togothere to fix the Accord, Caspian.”

He studies the painting more carefully now as his lips lean against a thumb. “Even if you’re right, how would we get there?The Aether realm is supposed to be sealed off from the living. And you are not killing yourself for this.”

I huff a humorless laugh. “I don’t know.” The admittance hurts, frustration building in my chest. “But I know it’s the truth.” For once, I am not lying—not about this.

“Okay. I trust you.” I didn’t hear him step closer, but his hand finds mine, squeezing gently. “Maybe that’s why Varrick was so desperate to tell us about my mother. Perhaps they’re connected somehow. Thanks for killing him before we could get those answers, by the way.”

I peer down at Varrick’s body, now wishing I hadn’t killed him quite so impulsively. It was irrational and unlike my usual calculating self. Whatever. “We need to find the artifacts and take them into the Aether realm ourselves.” The rightness of that statement flows through me like it’s the Angel approving my thoughts.

“We should start in the library,” Caspian suggests. “I do not recall anything of the sort, but there might be something about crossing between realms in the texts.”

I nod, already walking toward the door, but pause when I do not hear Caspian following. He’s staring at the shadows still flickering across his skin. I am not keen to believe these are the product of his father’s interference—my thoughts remain silent, though. He doesn’t need to hear them right now.

I saunter back to him and run my hands along his arms, showing him there’s nothing to be afraid of. His eyes drag up to mine. “We’ll figure that out, too. But they protected you and I do notsurmise they mean any harm, so for now they can wait. We need to focus on one impossible thing at a time.”

He chuckles, and something flutters down my spine as his skin pebbles under my touch. “When did you become the voice of reason?”

I blink. “I cannot decide whether to be offended or not.”

His smile is boyish as we leave Varrick’s office. I peruse Caspian as we walk, his new essence occasionally reaching for mine like they recognize each other. Another mystery to add to our growing list. Although watching him try to process having the ethereal affinity is admittedly entertaining.

“Stop smirking at me,” he grumbles.

“I’m not smirking.” I am.

“You are. I can feel it.”

I laugh, the weight of the past weeks lifting from me. “Feel it? What else can you feel, my prince?”

He pauses, whirling on me with an intensity that makes my breath catch—one I didn’t expect. “Everything. Since my father did whatever he did, it’s like my senses are heightened. Especially around you.” His nose scrunches. "Even before yesterday, if I'm honest."

“What do you mean?”

“I’m not sure, but I think I can feel you sometimes. Earlier, when the—my—shadows appeared? It was because I felt your intent to kill Varrick, but I needed to hear what he was going to say. And they were the result of that impulse.”

I hum as my mind processes this information, remembering how my own shadows have been acting strange around him for a while now. “That’s not normal,” I blurt, shifting on my feet. There’s a mist in my chest that I can't seem to grasp. Something I’m missing, and it’s right there, but it doesn’t wish to be discovered yet. My thoughts shift to Rael's cryptic fucking words, and I sigh—why can't someone else do this?

“Nothing about you is normal, angel.” He smirks, running a finger along my jaw. “Now come on, wraith, we have a library to raid.” I want to be annoyed at the name, but instead a wave of heat drifts up the back of my neck.

As we continue toward the library, I can’t shake the feeling that we’re on the verge of discovering something massive. Something that will explain the million questions I desperately need an answer to.

I chuckle to myself—that thought was bizarre and overly dramatic.

Though, I can accept how much I like the sound of it.

“You’re smirking again,” Caspian teases, bumping my shoulder with his.

This time, I don’t deny it.

Chapter Thirty

Ariella

Ishift my weight, staring straight ahead while the queen recites some bullshit speech about Thalion’sdevotion to the kingdom. My lip curls—I should feel more satisfied that he’s dead. That I succeeded in avenging my father. But all I can focus on is the strange pressure building in my chest and the way Caspian stands too still next to me.

The late morning sun beats down on the crowd gathered in the castle courtyard, though a chill slides over my skin. The weather has been erratic as of late—worse than usual. Even now, clouds gather and disperse rapidly overhead, as if they cannot decide whether to rain or not.

Something isn’t right. There’s been a prickling awareness at the back of my mind since the ceremony began, though I haven't figured out what is making me feel this way.

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