“Heavy is the head that wears the crown. Heavier is the heart.”

“Tell me Mr. Cade, as you finally sit upon the throne, how does it feel? Is it everything you ever dreamed of? Is it comfy and luxurious, or do you feel the bones that form the framework clawing at your back, almost as if trying to draw you into it? Is the regal, red fabric to your liking, and do you mind that the same hue stains your clothes, your body, your very soul? Many have inhabited the spot you are currently in, and not everyone can handle it. The pressure of usurpers, the responsibility of your station, the guilt of the sacrifices that were made along the way…”

“So I ask again, is it everything you dreamed of? The jewels in your scepter may glisten, but can you stomach your reflection long enough to cast your gaze its way? Did you realise the gold of the crown would be a coating over a laurel of thorns? Whether you realise it or not, you have offered yourself up as a martyr. A symbol, a figurehead for a movement, a morning glory reaching for the sun, doomed to wilt before you ever reach it. I want you to realise that being forced into abdication is not a dishonor, not a tragedy, but a mercy.”

“When you lifted that championship, it was literally, not metaphorically, stained with your brother’s blood. He died because of this title, right? His ambition killed him, Jasper Redgrave killed him, his compassion for his mother killed him… Anyone but you, right? The ultimate authority on justice, the moral absolute, Jackson Cade everyone! The man who couldn’t leave well enough alone, the man with a habit of dragging those around him to hell just so he can follow the lead of the devil.”

“You stood against The Uprising. Your precinct was raided and your comrades bled on the battlefield you drew the lines of. You chased tombstone, firing squad at the ready… And it was one of your loyal officers who was choked out by the long arm of the law. And then, you just had to butt your nose in. You couldn’t leave CJ be, you couldn’t respect his decision… You couldn’t let him do what needed to be done because of your moral outrage. Your mother almost died for your sins, but CJ offered himself up to the altar instead… After you walked him there.”

“What else are you willing to lose? How much heavier must your heart get before it collapses in on itself? How much blood must soak the thorns of your crown before you no longer have the strength to support it? You know your true successor, one who is not a pretender to the throne, but who can master it. One whose heart cannot weigh heavy, for they do not have one. And someone whose conscience, whose will and whose neck can support the burden of that crown.”

“Because as CJ Thorpe taught us, weak necks run in your family. One month and counting, Cade.”