And no one had ever suspected that Omort would truly attack. "Have you come to kill me for that?" Cadeon asked, his tone indifferent.

"I should," Rydstrom said. "I've been advised to." Cadeon's gaze flickered over Rydstrom's trusted officers, staring down at him with thinly veiled hostility. "You've been branded a coward. And not only by our enemies."

"I'm no coward. It wasn't my life—I hardly know you or that family."

"None of that mattered. It was your duty to be there," Rydstrom said. "The castle had no leader within. Omort seized on that and launched his rebellion, sending this scourge across the country. He has wrested control of Tornin. He possesses my crown."

"I did not lose your crown because of one decision. 'Tis not so simple a thing," Cadeon said, though he suspected otherwise.

"It is. The tides of war can be swayed by a word, an act, even the absence of a leader in the stronghold of a kingdom."

If true, then Cadeon's loved ones would still be alive.

"Let me explain this to you," Rydstrom bit out. "A childless king goes off to defend a surprise attack, and his sole heir, the last male of their line, repudiates his responsibilities. We couldn't have signaled our vulnerability more clearly."

Cadeon swiped at the blood on his throat. "It was not my crown, nor my concern."

With his fangs sharpened in aggression, Rydstrom dismounted. He drew his sword as he strode toward Cadeon, raised it—and seemed surprised when Cadeon refused to back up.

But his brother didn't understand; Cadeon should've died here. He had nothing to lose.

Cadeon didn't flinch, didn't blink, when the sword sliced down. A flicker of interest arose in Rydstrom's eyes as he beheaded the assassin behind Cadeon.

"Do you want to avenge the deaths of these people, brother?"

Rage filled Cadeon's chest at the idea, determination welling inside him. He grated, "Yes. I want to kill Omort."