Page 58 of Essence of the Throne

She studies me for a moment, and I wonder if she can see how much I need her to say yes. Then, a single nod. “I’ll find you.”The confirmation is nice, but I hear the silent promise in her tone: always.

The words drive heat through my veins, remembering all the times she’s tracked me down. In the training room that first day, in my chambers after she was poisoned, when she trusted me with her entire life after the griffin attack…this little wraith has sought me out more than I think we both realized.

“Be careful,” I mutter again, knowing she won’t listen but needing to say it anyway. Why am I feeling so clingy? The thought of her leaving sours my stomach far more than it should.

A familiar smirk crosses her face. “You’ve clearly forgotten who I am, prince. The city was never safe.” She closes the distance between us, her heat brushing against my skin. “Now it’ll just be extra fun.”

I groan. “Angel, don’t talk like that right now. I have things to do, and unfortunately for both of us, you are not one of them.” Her answering laugh is dark and promising.

It takes everything in me to turn and walk away, especially when I hear her mutter something about my ass under her breath. But I must focus. Whatever my father has planned for this meeting, I need to be prepared.

Still, I can’t help looking back once more before I round the corner. She stands at the lake’s edge again, silver hair catching the light as the water appears calm once more. She looks ethereal, dangerous, and beautiful in equal measure.

And entirely mine.

The thought should terrify me. Instead, it fills me with a fierce sort of pride. Let my father try to separate us. Let Gavriel question her motives. Let my mother warn me about her.

None of it matters. Because somehow, against every odd and probably against the Angel’s wishes, the most feared woman in the kingdom has chosen me. And I’ll be damned if I let anyone take her from me now.

Chapter Eighteen

Ariella

The city streets are a disappointing kind of empty for this time of day, as if everyone is too afraid to leave their homes. Pity, I was hoping for a little entertainment.

Two women catch my eye as I pass through a main street and they immediately spin to avoid me like death itself, though that’s nothing new. What is new are the closed shop signs hanging in just about every window.

How did everything change so quickly?

My shoulders roll back as I push away the tingling under my skin. I know what I’m capable of, but bringing down a king requires more than just skill with blades. It requires patience, which is something I am running out of after enduring it for twenty years.

How uncharacteristic of me.

The familiar stone steps of the guild come into view, and I force my breathing to settle. I don’t feel guilty for leaving Caspian behind while he meets with his father. And as much as I do not trust that pathetic excuse of a king, I know he will not harm his son.

But harm isn’t always physical, and it’s that thought that drives my feet faster.

I pause at the entrance, running my fingers over the worn handle. My father’s journal presses against the pouch at my hip, its weight impossible to ignore—a constant reminder of everything I’ve lost and all still at stake. It’s time I speak with Marek, though. It kills me to rely on others, but aside from Caspian, he is the one person alive who I can trust.

I’m not sure I would have even confided in Isaiah with this information.

The common area is empty save for one of the newer students sprawled across a chair, mouth hanging open as he snores softly. His hand dangles close to a blade, and I fight the urge to wake him with it pressed against his throat. Marek would not appreciate me terrorizing more of his students, but the idiot should learn to not leave himself so vulnerable.

Sighing, I walk with silent steps through the room, descending the stairs to where I know I’ll find my mentor. Jaxon’s voice drifts up from his briefing room, animated in that way he gets when explaining some new discovery.

“—the integration is seamless! The essence flows through these channels here, see?” His excited tone grows clearer as I approach. “It’s unlike anything we’ve seen from Lumarna before.”

I don’t bother knocking before pushing the door open. Marek, Velora, and Jaxon huddle around something on the table, their heads snapping up at my entrance. Velora’s eye twitches, andJaxon moves to shield whatever they’re examining, but not before I catch a glimpse of gleaming metal and pulsing light.

“By the Angel, haven’t you heard of knocking, Ariella?” Velora scolds, though there’s no real heat in her voice.

I smirk. “No. But I have heard a blade to the heart does wonders for stress. Care to try?” I step closer to the stout woman, raising a brow as her cheeks heat. Before she can continue our game, my eyes catch on what appears to be some sort of holding device. It’s small, no larger than my palm, with intricate channels carved into its surface. My brows crease at the essence flowing through them like liquid starlight. “What is that?”

Jaxon shifts, sliding a hand through his unkempt hair. “Just something from Auroria. A new type of essence amplifier, supposedly.”

But it’s not from Auroria—the craftsmanship is distinctly Lumarnan. I’ve spent enough time studying both cities’ work to know the difference.

I pause, pursing my lips. The way the essence moves through it like blood in a vein…something clicks in my mind, a piece of a puzzle I didn’t even know needed solving.

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