But Ryley did none of that.
The blond simply shook his head.
Slowly.
And the look in his eyes—God, that look—was worse than anger. It was pity. Disappointment.
"I know you're not particularly bright," Ryley said calmly, voice smooth as still water, "but I had hoped you'd at least study the family's history."
Mervyn froze.
"The Aldric family has ruled the Alpha Realm for six generations," Ryley continued, unshaken. "Not one Sovereign was the eldest son. The invincible fourth—Jason Aldric—was not the firstborn. Neither was the late fifth, Jacob Aldric."
The names landed like stones dropped into deep water.
Shock flickered across Mervyn's face. A crack in the armor.
Ryley stepped forward before he could recover, closing the distance between them. Not aggressively. Not loudly.
But decisively.
"But I don't care about birth order," he said softly. "Because it has never decided ascension. You know what does?"
