“He wants to marry Thais to his daughter and claim Frayne as part of his kingdom,” Ren explained. “Frayne and Skarlan are the two greatest nations in this part of the world. If he sits on both thrones, he can wage wars across the sea. He'll be nearly unstoppable.”

“He doesn't have the resources,” Lord Tyke said, shaking his head as he leaned back in his chair.

“But he will,” Ren insisted. “He's sending soldiers to Stag's Run as we speak. He'll take possession of the North. With the resources there, he can build weapons and ships. From there, it'll be no problem for him to take the southern trade routes as well. He will-”

“Hold on, boy,” Lord Tyke said, stopping Ren with a hand in the air before taking another gulp of his wine, hand shaking. “Why are you here? Why did you come all this way to tell me this?”

Ren swallowed hard, fists clenched against his thighs. “You must ride back to Aleria with me. You're the queen's brother; you have the right to the title as regent until Prince Thais comes of age. You can stop the marriage and kick Halvard out of our country,” Ren said, tension in his voice as he leaned forward. “It's our only chance.”

“You want me to rule,” Lord Tyke said flatly, sounding as though Ren had just asked him to eat cow dung.

“For a few years. Yes.”

“Absolutely not.”

“But-”

“You're out of your mind, boy. If the king and the crown prince are dead, then it's out of our hands.” Lord Tyke stood up, chair scraping against the floor as he walked over to the window.

Ren's breath caught in his throat. He hadn't considered that Tyke might refuse. It had simply never occurred to him. The safety of the nation came above all else, that and the safety of everyone he knew and cared about back home who currently had the blades of Skarlan swords pressed to their throats.

Getting up, Ren followed Tyke to the window. “My mother would want-”