"Then how are you proposing to make yourself Regent, Tobin?" she asked. "We both know you can't just take the title for yourself, it must be granted to you. And it doesn't sound like that's happened."
"Not yet it hasn't, but it will."
"Really? How do you know?"
Tobin gave her a calculating smile. "That's easy. I have a little talk with Father's advisors scheduled for tomorrow morning. I'll be letting them all know that any of them who are opposed tomaking a formal offer of the regency to me, will find they deeply regret that decision when I'm officially king. Which I think we can both agree, won't be too long away."
Celia shivered at the unadulterated glee in his voice. "Listen to yourself. How can you talk about your father's death so coldly?"
"It's the circle of life, isn't it? Always has been." he shrugged. "Sons will bury their fathers. It would only be unnatural if the reverse happened."