It needed this bit, I think. Plus the bit that I wrote and didn’t include in the snippet.
It would be a cliche to say that Mark obsessively thought about the last few weeks; but then, cliches exist because they’re usually accurate, at the core. He was trapped in a cave full of passive yet disturbingly intelligent rattlesnakes. Morbidly remembering the past had its points.
What was so confusing was how quickly disaster had struck. A month ago Mark was the heir to a reasonably prosperous desert and mountain realm. Nothing was really wrong, was it? Oh, certainly there were the barbie tribes to the west, but the kens never came east except as mercenaries or bodyguards. The lands to the south and north were quiet neighbors, uninterested in bothering Deseret, and it pleased Deseret to return that courtesy.
And, sure, to the east there was always talk that the Universal Dominion was moving in Deseret’s direction, but those stories never seemed very important. Not as important as the latest coffee-house or bordello or wizard’s spectacle, to be sure. The few times Mark had thought to ask his father about the situation, he had been given a reassuring pat on the shoulder and a mostly-genial reminder to not worry about the cares of State until he was the one sitting behind the President’s Desk.
I should have made you ready for this, Mark fancied that he heard his father say. More likely it was a thought in his own head.