The second prince's anger made him move before thinking, and movement in a throne room was as readable as speech.
"You dare!" the second prince howled.
The sound wasn't merely loud; it was desperate, the kind of volume that tries to manufacture authority in a room where authority is already seated on the throne.
Ludwig turned his head toward him at a deliberate pace, giving the prince nothing to bounce off of, no startled flinch, no defensive posture, no appeasing smile.
Inside, Ludwig filed the outburst under predictable. The prince's pride was always hungry. He wanted an enemy because enemies gave him shape.
'Seems like someone wanted the attention again. At least he wasn't as loud as the first time.'
"Was there a problem in what I said?" Ludwig kept his tone level, almost curious, as if the prince had raised a procedural concern rather than a challenge.
