( He's not wrong, fully, that Esikko is searching for power, envious of power. He's restarted his lifetime more than he can remember in search for it, and no number of gods eaten seems to ever be enough— those memories blur hazily between the flashes of his rage, and Chobe's extended arms and step forward make his heart beat even harder in his own ears, tempted to pull the glass shard from his pocket and stab right into him.

There's someone else he'd like to bottle this power for, though he's sure it would be refused, anyway. Still, it's just irritating to see in the hands of some asshole flaunting it around. So his greatest motivation? He just wants to stomp it out. He wants to find some way to grab at the core of this asshole and watch fear flicker in his eyes for the first time in who knows how long. )

I don't owe you anything.

( His grip on that charred jacket slips, but just to press his cold palm into Chobe's chest for an irritated shove, ignoring the flashes of gore he can just imagine. )

What could you want, anyway? From a "weak willed prince," as you say? You're toying with me, but it's only because you don't feel threatened. You'll regret that, you know? You've made it clear that the real heart of yours I should rip out isn't in your own chest.

( Implications of brother threats before he even knows he's here, yes, but he's too angry to think, too stuck on what to do, tempted to follow up and actually start ripping at flesh, but holding himself back if only because they are literally in a public stairwell. )