Obvious – for it was Queen Asabel's cause. Obvious, for he didn't want those embers to die. For there to be any meaning at all, they needed those embers to stay hot, to glow as they were. It didn't matter what was around that. The placating of an angry Lord Blackthorn, who they had still failed to please. Or the yielding to the new whims and ideals of Minister Hod, who, despite having their best interests in mind, seemed far too overbearing far too quickly. Oliver didn't want to think that far ahead.
The fact of the crown upon his own head. He didn't want to yield to that yet either. He was half-confident that there would be some way for him to leave it to a better man. He was eternally looking for that. And then the problem that was to follow. If he were to leave it to a better man, where would that better man rule? Would it be the Pendragon lands, for the crown that he wore?
