Arik's fingers tightened around the frame. "That is exactly what people say before causing wars."
Goliath's smile stayed where it was, old and unbearable. "Wars are caused by men who think stolen things become theirs because enough years pass."
"Spare me the imperial poetry."
"Gladly." The portrait's halo brightened. "Watch."
"No."
"You asked what I want."
"And you answered like a lunatic with a dead empire and a grudge."
"Yes," Goliath said. "Now watch why."
The suite tore open.
This time, Arik's world didn't plunge around him.
Goliath held him by the inside of the skull with the brutal precision of a commander forcing a young officer to look at the map before the enemy crossed the river.
Evening unfolded around them.
Goliath returned from battle with beast blood still beneath the clean edge of his nails.
