Chapter 4 — Castor Vane's Offer

"And I have that," Kael said."The Ashborn marks are not a metaphor. They're a mechanism. The Ashen Throne was built three hundred years ago by a Maker — one of the old artificers — who designed it to respond to a specific resonance. When the right person sits in it, the throne recognizes the claim and the empire recognizes the throne. Without it, any warlord who takes Vardenmoor is just a warlord who took Vardenmoor." He paused. "With it, the succession is legitimate. The other claimants have no grounds to dispute it.""You want me to sit on the throne and legitimize your rule," Kael said."I want you to sit on the throne and be recognized as king. I would serve as your—""Regent," Kael said.Vane smiled. "Chancellor. With full administrative authority during your—""Minority. Until I'm old enough to rule. At which point you'd have spent four years entrenching your control and I'd be a figurehead with a ceremonial title." Kael pushed his dessert plate aside. "That's not an offer. That's a cage with a gold door."The temperature in the room changed.Vane looked at him for a long moment. Whatever he'd expected from the fire boy of Cinder's Edge, it had not been this."You're sixteen," he said."And I've lived sixteen years in the eastern reaches under your tithe system. I know what your authority looks like from the bottom of it." Kael held his gaze. "I'm not interested in being king. I'm not interested in being your king. I'm not interested in the throne at all. What I'm interested in is understanding what it means that I exist, and that's not something you can offer me at a dinner table."Vane was quiet. His expression had settled into something that was not quite anger and not quite respect — something between the two, compressed."The other warlords will not be this polite," he said at last."I know." Kael stood up. "Thank you for dinner."He left. In the street, his hands were shaking, which surprised him — he'd felt very calm inside. He stood in the cool night air for a moment, pressing his palms against the Cinderstone wall of the building, and felt the city breathe.You did well, the stone did not say. The stone said nothing, because stones don't talk. But the warmth of it was steady under his hands, and he held onto it until the shaking stopped.He walked back to the boarding house."How did it go?" Maren asked."First offer," he said. "Refused."Deven and Ren exchanged a look."One more to go," Deven said.