Ludwig caught him by the throat mid flight and kept him there, suspended like a bad decision that had finally been grabbed before it could land. The duke's feet kicked at empty air, and the extra hands came up in a frantic mess, some clawing at Ludwig's wrist, others trying to pry fingers apart.
One set never left the cube, hugging it close with the kind of desperation that said he still believed it could rescue him if he held on hard enough. Ludwig's hold stayed steady, not tightening for show, not loosening for pity.
