She stared at Ludwig with wide, furious eyes, her lips pulled back from her teeth, her thorned metal vines writhing around her like a nest of barbed serpents. The rage on her face was no longer just about the fight. It was about the insult of seeing him stand there with a power she believed should have been denied to everyone who came after her.
"You don't deserve that," she snarled.
Ludwig tilted Durandal slightly, the sword resting low in his grip as if he had not just declared something that bent the air around them. "Probably not."
That answer broke whatever restraint Gallows had left.
