Page 55 of Burn Bright
Epilogue
Four monthslater…
Bells tolled,ringing through the city ofCaskill.
"The king is dead! Long live theking!"
All across the city, the red and gold standard of Cymberlon fluttered in the air as the people turned out to mourn their king—or most likely, to be seen mourning a king they were secretly glad to see dead. Casimir leaned on the battlements, sucking in a sharp breath of air. The past few months had been lived on a knife's edge as he and Prince Evaron tried to outmaneuver the games atcourt.
Along the return journey from Gravenwold, Evaron had become a different person, as if having Hussar attack him at the king's orders had finally torn the last vestiges of childhood from his eyes. They'd taken their time, visiting the northern lords on their way as Evaron tested allegiances. Caskill might be under the firm sway of the Way of the Light, and hence Prince Rygil, but the country barons eyed the Fire Priests withdistrust.
By the time they'd finally arrived in Caskill, Evaron held the pledge of fealty of over twenty barons, and even the Duke of Marietta. When he'd knelt at his father's bedside and admitted his failure, the king had sworn to see him struck from the line of inheritance, only to have his son standfirm.
If King Euric tried to disinherit him, then Evaron would take to the field with the men of the north—and most likely a good deal of the west, aswell.
Cas would never forget the look on the king'sface.
"I can't believe this day has come. My father’s finally been interred in the catacombs," Evaron said, and it felt as though he were testing the words to see if he could comprehend the truth behindthem.
"And you're king now." Cas rested both palms flat on the battlements, and bowed his head. "Rygil actually bent the knee to you in the throne room. I thought he was going to revolt at the lastmoment."
"I doubt he's entirely done yet. He wants the Duchy of Veron, but that's a dangerous position to give him. The south of Cymberlon is flush full of Fire Priests, so they're already in his pockets. He can't have the east aswell."
"What are you going todo?"
"Give him Lucevyr." Evaron grinned sharply. "Right between two of my most powerful vassals. If he makes a move, he'll have Marmont and DeLucy at hisback."
Cas looked at his friend. "You're playing a smartgame."
"I had to grow up sometime." Evaron stared coolly over the city. "As a certain somebody reminded me, I don't have the luxury of letting others make the movesanymore."
"I didn't saythat."
"The gist of it was thesame."
Cas scrubbed at his mouth. He didn't look north, though it called to him still. Some part of him had never left Gravenwoldbehind.
"And what of you?" Evaron asked softly. "What future do you see inmind?"
A shrug. Dreams were for those who had the chance to grab them by the throat. His collar chafed. "Point me where you needme."
"You're useless atcourt."
"Thanks," he growled. "As if I need thereminder."
"And you upset mybarons—"
"Not on purpose," he exclaimed. "I can't help myeyes."
"It's not the eyes that are the problem," Evaron replied dryly. "You have the ear of a king now. We're no longer princeling and Hound. You're the second most powerful man in Cymberlon, and everybody knowsit."
Cas stared stiffly at nothing. Games were for courtiers. Not him. It was the sort of thing that would see him dead. He had not the patience forit.
"I thought you might be of a mind to rendezvous with a certainfirebird...."
"Shedied."
"And then another wasreborn."
