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I wanted to shout at him that I didn’t want this. That he had no reason to be disappointed, because I refused.

I could not be king.

This was not meant to be.

I was meant to train soldiers and investigate crimes and track down Rogues. I was meant to rise up the ranks and become a respected general.

I was not meant for royalty.

“My—my father did not have royal blood,” I said in a strained voice. “I have no royal blood! This is not right.”

“Believe me, we have been searching tirelessly through genealogical records,” Chief Korvus said. “Even if you are only connected by marriage and stepchildren, it must be you. I assure you, there is no one else.”

I ran a shaking hand down my face. “There—there must be someone else who is fit for this. One of you, perhaps?” I gestured to the chiefs who surrounded me.

“We have our own tribes to oversee,” Chief Ramathos said, scowling at me.

“And I have my own soldiers to train!” I shouted, my voice echoing in the vast room and ringing against the walls.

Chief Ramathos’s eyes flashed, his nostrils flaring. He emitted a low rumbling sound, and fear shot through me as I thought of the massive dragon he could easily shift into.

I bowed again. “Forgive me,” I whispered. “This has just come as a shock to me. I meant no disrespect.”

“Obviously, we have been content with you serving as captain of the tribe,” said Chief Gorem. “But laws are laws. Only those in the royal family tree can rule.”

“And it doesn’t matter that I have no royal blood in me?” I asked weakly. “Won’t my subjects be bothered by that? I certainly am. I am… not fit to rule. Not in the slightest.”

“King Nolan has ruled for nearly three generations,” said Chief Cartier. “It would be an adjustment regardless of who took his place. But we are here to help you. And you will have advisors and attendants and personal guards.”

My stomach hollowed. Gods’ breath. Personal guards? Attendants? I was accustomed to sleeping in a cot in the barracks along with fifty other men, sometimes more. And I was perfectly capable of protecting myself from attackers. I could dress myself, feed myself… I did not need any of this.

“How soon?” I asked, my voice shaking. “How much time do I have? Can I at least conclude the investigation I am currently working on?”

Chief Gorem frowned. “What investigation?”

“Don’t tell him,” Tavik warned.

But I had to say something.

Thinking quickly, I said, “Reid and I came across a witch in our travels who may be connected to a crime we’re investigating. She was behaving suspiciously, so we brought her here for questioning.”

“Ah, I thought I smelled something foul,” Chief Ramathos muttered, and several chiefs chuckled in agreement.

“Questioning the witch should be a task for whomever we appoint to be captain in your place,” Chief Gorem said.

“I understand,” I said, my pulse quickening. “But the witch is… skittish. We’re hoping to use the truth spell on her, since she gave us some trouble in the fae lands.”

“That’s an understatement,” grumbled Tavik.

“Reid and I know how to approach her,” I went on. “If you will allow it, I would like to pursue this with him at my side. One last time.”

One last time. Soon, I would no longer be hunting in the forest with my second at my side. No more tracking. No more mysteries to solve.

Chief Gorem glanced at Chief Cartier, who shrugged. “He will need time to be taught the customs and expected behaviors of a king.”

Chief Ramathos’s eyes seemed to spear right through me. “He has a lot to learn.”

I tried to ignore the disdain in his voice. Behind my back, my hands wrung together as I waited for their answer.