"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.
