"Correct," Maddox said. "You have a dragon fleet protecting you. You have your gold. And what your son did to my wife goes away instead of becoming an act of war."
Renwick’s eyes were running calculations.
He let Renwick calculate because the answer was inevitable and rushing inevitability was amateur.
"Two problems on your desk would be an ocean away from your borders," Maddox continued after a good minute. "Your secrets stay buried because the oath kills them if they talk. Your new Beta won’t have to reconcile with the fact you killed his father. Your kingdom forgets they existed within a season."
He swirled his glass once.
"Your alternative is killing a pregnant woman or a woman right after she gives birth, which is as bad as it sounds both ways."
The math sat on the desk between them like a loaded weapon.
"I’m giving you a clean exit, Renwick. Take it."
Renwick was quiet for a long time.
The silence didn’t bother Maddox. He owned it.
"You’re smarter than you let on." Renwick picked up his whiskey. Swirled it once. Drank. "Draven was my Beta for twenty-two years. He held my borders, raised my son’s reputation when I couldn’t, and covered for my wife while she spread her legs for him. He is the best strategist I’ve ever had and losing him weakens my position in ways I’ll feel for a decade."
"That sounds like a yes."
"That sounds like the preamble to a yes, because I want you to understand what you’re taking from me and I need something in return."
Maddox leaned back in his chair, taking a slow sip of his drink.
"If your firstborn son has a wolf shift, he becomes heir to Lunaris. If not, then your second born son, dragon or wolf, will be heir if I don’t produce one. Which means they train under me and stay in this Keep for certain amounts of time."
Of all the things Maddox had been expecting, that was not on the list.
"My unborn sons. Training in Lunaris. Under your guidance. The same guidance that produced the son who ordered lashes on my wife." He let that sit. "Sell me on why that’s a good idea."
Renwick set his glass down.
"You’re using my dead son as leverage. That’s fine. I put him there. But don’t confuse the product with the process. The same process produced the woman you flew two thousand miles for. The difference between Cassian and Guinevere wasn’t the guidance. It was that I overlooked flaws in one I should have cut out years ago. Your sons would have something he never had: a father in Drakencrest with no blind spots and a grandfather in Lunaris who’s already paid the price for having them."
"I believe you. That’s the part that scares me," Maddox said after a moment. "You want a second chance at raising someone right. Fine. But the woman who paid for your first attempt gets veto power over the second one. That’s not negotiable, Renwick. That’s the minimum."
"Agreed. Draft the oath. I want it signed before sunrise."
Maddox didn’t smile. Smiling would break the spell. Instead he nodded once, the way kings nod when a deal is done and both parties know who won.
He stood.
"One more thing."
Renwick looked up.
"When Guinevere comes home and asks what happened tonight, and she will, you tell her the truth. She hears the facts. From you. To her face."
He walked out of the study without looking back.
Ryker closed his mouth. Opened it again.
Ryker: That was the sexiest negotiation I’ve ever witnessed and I need a moment.
Maddox: Nothing about that was sexy. Or true.
Ryker: Did he just out-Renwick’d Renwick?
Sterling: He did.
Ryker: In the man’s own study.
Sterling: With his own whiskey.
Ryker: I’m aroused and confused.
DOMINO 50: BEST OF LUCK TO YOU ALL
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