Try to convince Kaelen

You get Dobra to arrange a personal meeting with Kaelen. The man, scarred, barrel-chested warrior stands stiffly as Dobra translates your terms. He listens with a stoic expression, his eyes darting between you and the widow of his leader. After a moment of heavy silence, Kaelen speaks a few guttural sentences.

​Dobra freezes, her eyes widening in genuine shock. She looks from the deputy to you, her mouth slightly agape, a flicker of something crossing her face.

​"What is it, Dobra?" you ask, shifting your weight. "Why the look of surprise? Does he refuse the terms?"

​"No, Your Majesty," she breathes, regaining her composure though her cheeks remain flushed. "He accepts. Entirely. But he wants a sign of honesty?"

"What is more honest than offering him the position of the new leader?"

"He wants to send his own wife to your tent to serve you for the next month."

​You blink, taken aback by the bluntness of the proposal. "His wife? I’ve just taken this land and rapes his leader's widow, but taking everything... even this is beyond my standard."

​Dobra steps closer, her voice lowering so only you can hear. "You must understand the way of the tribe, my King. This is not a slight against his wife, nor is it a sign of weakness. It's the other way around."

"Do tell."

"Your first experience with the woman of the tribe is me. And I welcome you. I was an outsider. But women of the tribe, they are trained to be warriors. Letting one of them inside your tent means giving them the chance to strike you when you're ****."

"So it's the sign of trusts."

She looks over at Kaelen, who remains standing, arms crossed, waiting for your verdict. "if she does attempt to kill you, and you die, it is because you're weak. On the other hand, if you accept, and he is being honest with the deal, you become part of his kin-circle. You share in his life, and he in your protection."

"I can refuse?"

"To refuse is to say that his blood is too low for you to touch. And you will never trust then. It is a stinging insult that would tell him, and others that you intend to wipe them out rather than rule them. He would have **** but to sharpen his blade for a final, **** revolt."

​Dobra reaches out, her fingers touch yours in what can be seen as insolence on her part, as she was doing in public. But her expression tells you the weight of what she is about to say. "I recommend you accept, Your Majesty. Let her come. It will secure the deputy’s spear for your cause and ensure the rest of the winter passes in peace rather than fire."