“I...”

“Come, come. I know you are neither hesitant nor as modest as you pretend to be.  On this hunting trip, I have watched you master our customs. While I admire your steely patience in biding your time and letting my nobles grow more accustomed to having an eld in their midst, I realize you will not wait much longer. No doubt when we return to court you will begin seeking support. You will need an army to reclaim your throne. You will need money and backers. Your exiles have proud names but little else; few of them escaped with their wealth intact. Which means you must seek help from Mandria.”

The king gestured. “Several times you and I have been alone like this, yet you have said nothing. Why not? What do you intend, by wasting these opportunities to woo me and my lords?”

Dain’s eyes widened. “Would I have your support if I asked for it?”

“No.”

Such bluntness took Dain aback. He wondered why the king had brought up the notion of support if he meant to withhold it.

“Well?” Verence demanded. “Have you no answer for me?”

“Must I answer your majesty now?” Dain asked, trying to gain himself some time.