In the Open Cage

Chapter 14

Misa trudged through the hall, barely able to lift her feet from the weight on her shoulders. She had thought her talk with Leira would have cheered her up for the rest of the day, but the moment they parted, Misa had returned to the grim reality that darkened her path.

The guards were still quiet, though Misa sensed pity or even scrutiny from their watchful eyes. It gave her reason to speed up. She wished she could walk faster, run until they couldn't see her anymore, but she was too tired to deal with the consequences. Too tired to even run.

So, with her slightly quickened pace, Misa returned to her chambers. She halted when she saw a familiar figure leaning outside her door, and her heart skipped a beat before clenching painfully. Nisha's warnings played in her mind as she approached him. Royle, in his dreary gray uniform, straightened when he saw her. He offered a gentle smile, and it was almost enough for Misa to break down then and there.

She didn't care that the guards were behind her, watching with keen interest. She didn't care what they thought or that they would likely spread more rumours if Misa spent more time with Royle. She just needed him to soothe her, to be the salve to her deepened wound.

Misa managed a weak smile. She couldn't open the door fast enough, and the tension flooded out of her shoulders the moment she and Royle were behind the barrier from the rest of the world.

"Don't you have work to do?" Misa asked, easing a bit of jest into her tone. She needed this. Normalcy. A conversation with the man she loved to make her forget about everything that door shut out. She didn't look at him. Not yet. First, she needed to hear his voice, have it soothe her ears and ease her mind.

Royle followed her to the couches. "Not until the treaty. Or until a witch causes trouble. Whichever comes first."

"What's that in your hand?" Misa had seen the white cloth that was in his grip, and she had recognised the shape of it. She still needed confirmation because she was not going to accept whatever Perrin had sent her. Why Royle would even take anything from the prince was beyond her.

Royle caught her elbow before she could take a seat. "Look at me, Misa. I need you to look at me."

Misa blinked back her tears and gathered her strength before slowly turning around. She hated that it felt as if she was hiding from him, like she was trying to slip away and leave him behind. But there was no way she could stop Nisha's threats from flooding her mind, and every time she looked at him, the very likely possibility of losing him stabbed her heart and wrenched her soul.

She met his eyes and mustered a smile. "What's wrong?"

He studied her, and Misa feared that he could see right through her. Perhaps there was some truth to Nisha's words. Misa needed to train herself to stop being so obvious about what she felt.

If Royle saw the distance in her, he didn't comment on it, and for that Misa was grateful. "I caught Prince Perrin with this, and I thought you would be the best person to take care of it."

He handed her the canvas. Misa took it, unable to stop the tremble in her hands. When she dropped the cloth, she froze in stunned silence. It was a portrait. Of her. With so much detail that she wondered how the prince painted her without her posing for him.

The thought of him watching her and painting her was sickening, and Misa threw down the canvas as if it were on fire. It disgusted her that he could paint her so well that she could well be looking into a mirror. That he would have a replica of herself in his room for whatever sick perversion he had for her.

"What is this?" she snapped at Royle, though she knew she was directing her anger at the wrong person. "Why..."

Misa saw the rage bubbling in his eyes, in the tightness that clenched his jaw. "I warned him not to paint you again. He won't bother you anymore if he knows what's good for him."