Lord Tyke had been alerted of the approaching force, but had done nothing so far. As prince, Ren could overrule his authority and prepare the fort for siege himself, but what use would that be? He wasn't a military leader. He had never seen a war. A Lowlander slave could beat him in a sword fight in under thirty seconds. The man he had killed in the woods had been the first time he had ever taken a life, and the thought of it still made his stomach twist.

Maybe this was the end. Maybe this entire idea of saving the kingdom had been a pipe dream. Of course it was never going to be this easy.

Quiet footsteps against the stone of the battlement made Ren turn, but he relaxed at the sight of his Niklas. His friend gave him a sad smile and came to stand next to him.

“The commander has stationed two guards in each tower at your orders,” Niklas said, tugging his warm coat closer around himself against the chill wind.

“Good.”

“What are you going to do now?”

“I don't know,” Ren said quietly.

Ahead, the passage to the North cut through the mountains like a narrow, twisting river of stone. Fat brown cattle, the soldiers' source of fresh milk and meat, grazed on the gentle slopes at the base of the fort, seeking out the scattered patches of grass hidden under the shallow layer of snow.

“I'm so sorry about your brother, Ren. And King Callun. I know he was like a father to you.”

Ren swallowed hard and nodded. He didn't speak until he was sure his voice wouldn't fail him. He closed his hand tight around the hilt of his brother's sword where it was strapped to his hip. “Hellic would know what to do.”

Niklas moved closer. Warm fingers slipped around the inside of Ren's wrist and Ren allowed it. He hadn't realised until now how much he had craved such a soft, physical touch. Turning his hand, he laced their fingers together.

“Callun didn't want me at that party. What if I had just listened and it had stopped all this from happening?”

“I don't think you could have,” Niklas said, squeezing his hand. “Maybe…” he continued, and seemed to search for words carefully, “Maybe the best option now is to just return to Aleria.”

Ren frowned, taking his eyes off the view to look at Niklas. “He'll kill us.”

“Maybe he won't,” Niklas said, straightening up and looking at Ren with wide eyes. He squeezed his hand tighter. “If we try talking to him, maybe he'll listen. You're a bastard; you can't threaten his place on the throne. He might let us back in, and then you can watch over Thais.”

“His place on the throne…”