In the Open Cage

Chapter 13

Royle knocked at the thick, white door and turned the golden knob without waiting for an answer. Rage brewed within him, and he saw no point in hiding it in the privacy of the room. Most of his anger had been suppressed, even abated, when he spent his time with Misa the previous day, but the moment he had returned to his chambers to rest, he couldn't catch a wink of sleep at the thought of what Prince Perrin had done to Misa.

Nisha was another problem altogether but he decided at least the prince had to be taken care of. There was already too much Misa was worrying about.

The prince in question didn't even turn around from his position at the window. His right hand clasped around a paintbrush, his left tilting the paint palette until a thick drop of yellow fell onto his shoe. Perrin's eyes were fixed on the window, and it seemed he hadn't heard Royle's burst of entrance.

Shutting the door behind him, Royle cleared his throat. "Prince Perrin. I think we need to have a little chat."

The only evidence that the prince finally noticed him was the slight tense in his shoulders before he relaxed. Royle, displeased with being ignored, stormed over to the prince, ready to shake some sense into him.

"Beautiful, isn't she?" Perrin's words stopped Royle in his tracks.

Royle frowned, and instead of confronting Perrin, he glanced out the window. His blood boiled even hotter when he caught sight of Misa sitting at the fountain, watching the fishes in the water.

"I see why you're so smitten, Captain," Perrin said. "I'm sure she's got a long line of suitors just hoping to talk to her. Tell me, how did you catch such a marvelous woman in your trap? Perhaps I could actually learn something from you."

He turned back to his canvas without so much as a glance in Royle's direction. The canvas that captured Misa in the prince's art. Where Perrin gently traced a rich pink over her lips.

It was the last straw.

Royle kicked the easel, toppling it over. The canvas slid to the ground, and Royle was ready to stomp on it. Only, he couldn't. Not when her bright brown eyes stared back at him, her cheeks tinted pink, her lips curled into a teasing smile. As much as he hated to admit it, Perrin had enough talent to capture the very essence of Misa in his art, and Royle couldn't—just couldn't—stomp on the face of the woman he had come to cherish.

"That's enough," he said, stepping between the prince and Misa's portrait.

Perrin had frozen in place, his paintbrush still suspended in the air where it had touched the canvas mere seconds before. He raised his eyes to meet Royle's, and his lips tugged into a slight scowl.

"What is the meaning of this?"

"We weren't able to continue this discussion because Misa was present yesterday, but now that we're alone, I think it's time we finish what we started."

With a sigh, Perrin lowered his arm. He swirled his paintbrush in the cup of muddled water and set down the palette on the table.

"Claiming territory, are you?" Perrin laughed as he wiped his hands on a small towel. "It's quite funny. I never thought I would ever have to face you in this situation. I've won over many women in the past despite their bond with their partners. I'm sure this discussion is one I've already had many times before. Say what you will, Captain. There is nothing that will change my mind."

"Why?" Royle's fingers curled into fists. "Why won't you leave her alone?"

"Why?" Perrin snorted a bitter laugh. "You of all people should know why."

"She's not a toy for you to pass around." Royle gritted his teeth. "Surely there are others more willing you can find. Go to the brothel if you're so desperate, but leave her out of your twisted games."