A/N: This was written for the prompt "inheritance." Cazaril considers his fate.
Cazaril thought that inheritance was a fickle thing.
He had inherited a title from his family, but not their lands. He had inherited ropes of scars from his time in the Roknari galleys, but not his slave masters' cruelty. He had inherited cynicism from his observations of court intrigues, but not the courtiers' venality.
He hoped he would one day be able to leave his children something both lasting and good. He snorted at that fantasy. Dondo and the death demon would finish him off long before he would be able to reproduce with Be- with any lady.He supposed that best he could hope for was to do no harm. Or rather not let Dondo do any harm through him. He looked again toward his chamber's window, imagined the of the wind whipping past him as he fell… No, that way is closed. The Lady must have some use for me yet because she has not released me.
Inheritance was also overrated.
No amount of gold or good luck or influence would save him from his fate.