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 ey
