Slowly, Perrot pulled himself together. He was still dripping wet, and he seemed rather tense, but he was at least standing again.
He had a bitter, hateful look on his face.
Despite every disposition working within his mind, he seemed to just snap. That man had -caught- him. -Disarmed- him. Made him look like a -fool-, in front of the whole damn cafe. It didnt matter that who had done it was royalty - that was the farthest thing from Perrot's mind at that point.
Purposefully, and rather agressively, he started walking towards the Prince.