It is quite a frightening realisation, and for the first time the goliath finds himself concerned about what Vadir might be capable of should he release her from her prison. He redoubles his efforts to hold the stone cage around her, determined not to unleash her until she is fully calm.

He's startled when Sikeax thanks him, and his ears shoot forwards with evident delight, although it's humble rather than self-satisfied. A few months ago, he would have gleefully seized upon this favour she offers him, but not now. "I couldn't allow her to harm you, Sikeax. She...is a proud creature, used to being worshipped as the queen of her species. You owe me nothing - if anything, I owe you, for raising our son alone when I was too foolish and irresponsible to even realise he existed." There's a hint of bitterness in his masculine tones; it is still a sore point with him, that so many of his children spent their formative months not knowing he existed. How could he have been so stupid? He should have known that sex created children, but he'd simply thought himself too young to sire offspring, not to mention an ego-inflicted belief that Mother Nature would never dare to damn him with children until he was good and ready. He remembers his utter shock when Sikeax presented Zhu to him, and shame clouds his memories as he recalls the infantile way he had reacted.

No more. He has learned his lesson, and Tyrath and Astarot have been studiously trained and interacted with from birth. They know him as their father, not as a simple sperm donor too irresponsible to care for them. He is proud of what he has accomplished with them, but that pride does not eclipse the deep sense of failure he feels when he thinks of Zhu, Kid and Sabre.

She reveals that she is four and a half, and there's a hint of relief in his mind that she is not that much older than him. She then mentions the darkness again, but swiftly offers a subject change, as though the topic is uncomfortable for her. The beast nods, not wishing to push her further, even though he is still deeply curious about this apparently wretched time in Helovia's rich history. However, he's more interested in building bridges with Sikeax than he is with sating his curiosity, so he follows easily along with her change of subject.

The mare remarks on his last words, about becoming king; she simply advises that he do it when he is ready. He falls silent for a moment, musing. Does he feel ready, right here, right now? His physical prowess is not in question - from battle-hungry boy he has moulded himself into steel-hardened man, far more experienced on the field of war than he is in most other aspects of life. He has little doubt in his ability to take a throne, but something tells him that's just the easy part. Once he is king, what then? The idea is pleasant enough; he imagines himself stood tall and strong over a herd of loyal men and quivering women tripping over themselves to fall into his bed, eager to bear the spawn of the Indomitable. He imagines an empire, his children by his side, his harem large and nurtured, his name spoken with fear and respect from the wilds of the south to the frozen wastelands of the north.

But the reality? The reality, he imagines, is far harder than the idealistic picture he has painted within his mind. Of course, women will want him more when he has a crown atop his skull, but somehow he doesn't think an endless stream of mares in his bed will automatically make him a good king. How would he react if, say, two of his herdmembers had an argument and it was his responsibility to break it up? How would he react to a loyal soldier attempting to overthrow him? Or what if the herd's patron God decided he was unworthy? All these things make him think twice about the path he's chosen, and at this moment in time - standing here next to a mare he bullied into sleeping with him, who mothered a child he accidentally ignored for many months - he does not know if he could be the king he wants to be. Not yet. He has his whole life to take a throne; there is little need to rush. He will do it when it feels right, and he knows he has some more growing up to do first.

He glances out to sea, where Hobgoblin seems to have disappeared (Vérzés contemplates joining him, but he's too busy enjoying Vadir's misery), before looking back to Sikeax. "If and when I become king, will you join me in my herd?" It's a question he has often asked himself. Right now, his women and children are scattered through Helovia, which is quite inconvenient when it comes to getting to know them. When he has a herd to call his own, he hopes that all the mothers of his children will join him there, along with his offspring themselves. Not just to swell his ranks, but so he can ensure he can remain part of their lives, and try to make up for the time he lost.