Why did that same intervening hand, that same impossible twist of fate, spin itself for the likes of the High King?
A deep breath again. He didn't understand it. His world view could not tolerate it. For injustice to exist so plentifully made no sense. For the likes of Tiberius to grow as strong as he had. For a woman as good as Asabel to be made to suffer to the degree that she had… The world was different to what he wished it could be.
He lowered his head. Just because his cause was just, did not guarantee him victory. If anything, it seemed to work against him, just like it had worked against Dominus and Arthur. There was a real force to what it meant to be High King that seemed to preserve the man, as if the very country itself were working to defend him.
