The question was a perfectly crafted hook. It offered Daemon not just survival, but a path to even greater glory.
It allowed him to frame this surrender not as a defeat, but as a wise, strategic choice for the betterment of his people and his lineage.
"We will need assurances," Daemon said, his voice firming, stepping back into the role of a negotiating prince.
"Contracts. Oaths. The roles of each family must be clearly defined. We will not be your slaves."
"I have no interest in slaves," Rhys replied, his tone flat. "Slaves are inefficient. I will provide you with a Master Contract, outlining the structure of the Conglomerate and the duties and benefits of each department. Your families will review it. You have one month to sign. After that, I will consider the positions vacant and find other candidates."
He turned back to his blueprints, the dismissal clear. The audience was over.
