Chapter 37
Friedrich stared into his cousin’s eyes, unable to smother the defiance bubbling in his chest.
“You know she started it, damn it! You were there!” he grumbled.
But Arnold remained unreasonable despite the spark of sympathy Friedrich saw in his eyes, which only served to infuriate the younger man further. “Come on, Arne! It’s her damned fault!”
“It doesn’t matter,” Arnold sighed. “From today on, you will avoid her as well as the colosseum at all costs.”
“But that’s just unfair! Why am I being punished–”
“Because you messed up as well. It does not matter who started it. If either of you had died, we would be at war by now!”
“And perhaps that would be for the better!” Friedrich growled aggressively. “Eisengrund is weaker than ever. We can just take the mines. Fuck, we could take everything from Erzfeld to the river Wendel, if Lisa just–”
“Silence.”
Friedrich flinched as Arnold’s voice reverberated from the stone walls of the lounge, carried by a pulse of magic. When he forced himself to meet the Prince’s eyes, all traces of compassion and friendliness were gone. Instead, he found himself staring into the icy abyss he had seen only once before – in the arena, right before Arnold gutted Leonhardt.