Chapter 4: Rhode's Twisted Tastes

Rhode leaned against the carriage’s soft cushions, his fingers tapping absently on his thigh. Hongye’s casual account had thrown his thoughts into turmoil.

*Is this really a job for an office worker who just transmigrated?*

Three elven royals: a calculating queen centuries old, an innocent princess, and a hot-tempered general. In any novel, they would be major villains or central heroines.

His predecessor, that lecherous bastard, had volunteered to take charge of all three dangerous prisoners with only one thing on his mind.

The more Rhode thought about it, the worse his headache became. His gaze drifted down to Hongye’s long, pale legs. Her maid’s skirt was so short that, with the carriage rocking, it barely covered anything. Looking at her stirred up the prince’s unsavory memories.

“What are you thinking about, Your Highness?” Hongye asked abruptly, distaste evident in her voice. She tugged at her skirt to cover her thighs.

Rhode snapped out of it and coughed to conceal his embarrassment. He pointed at her clothes. “Do you always go out with me dressed like that? The capital’s streets are crowded. Perhaps… you should put something over it.”

Hongye’s eyes widened. “When you designed this outfit, you said taking me out in it would make every man in the capital drool and show off your taste…”

Rhode’s mouth twitched. His predecessor really was a hopeless pervert. What kind of twisted taste was that?

“That was before,” he said, grasping for an excuse. “It’s windy today. I don’t want you catching cold. Put something on, or people will think I can’t even afford proper clothes for you.”

Hongye pursed her lips, rummaged in a chest in the corner and pulled out a large black velvet cloak. She wrapped it snugly around herself.

“Thank you for your consideration, Your Highness,” she said with heavy sarcasm, though her eyes betrayed disbelief.

The carriage rolled to a halt. Outside came the measured footsteps of guards and the clatter of armor.

“We’re here.” Hongye opened the heavy door and jumped down first.

Rhode took a deep breath and descended slowly, holding the doorframe. When he looked up, an enormous, forbidding fortress of black stone towered before him. Sharp iron spikes covered its high walls, and the air reeked of blood, excrement and moldy straw.

He covered his nose and searched his predecessor’s memories for some way to handle the situation.

“Hongye,” he murmured close to her ear, “what etiquette should I use when I meet the person in charge? The royal kind, or are there special rules?”

She gave him a sidelong look. “Since when do you care? Do you mean royal etiquette, or your personal etiquette?”

“What’s the difference?”

“Royal etiquette is putting on your princely airs and accepting their bows.” She rolled her eyes. “Your personal etiquette… When you visited Spring Breeze House or someone else’s home, especially when you met a woman of lower rank, you usually just undid your belt. The young women officials in the palace go out of their way to avoid you now, and common girls don’t dare leave their homes when you’re in the street.”

She paused, then added, “You’re getting more ambitious. You never had to come to a prison in person for women before.”

Rhode’s vision darkened, and cold sweat soaked his back. Hongye’s words brought the prince’s buried memories rushing out like floodwater through a broken dam: scenes too vile to contemplate, each one pushing the limits of human decency.

Worse still, he clearly remembered the greedy gleam in the man’s eyes whenever he spotted a pretty young woman. On the capital’s busy shopping street, word that the Third Prince was out would send women within miles into hiding; they would rather duck into a swill barrel than show their faces.

*What an absolute scumbag. His reputation is in the gutter.*

As Rhode stood there wishing the ground would swallow him, the prison’s heavy ironbound gates swung open.

“Welcome, Your Highness, Third Prince.”

The rough voice carried a perfunctory note. Gray, the imperial inquisitor and warden, strode out with several jailers. He still wore a leather apron stained dark red with blood and even held a small hammer he hadn’t bothered to put down.

Rhode quickly suppressed his embarrassment, straightened his back and clasped his hands behind him, assuming the lofty bearing of a prince.

Gray stopped three paces away and gave a shallow bow without bending his knees. “Your visit brings honor to this filthy prison, Your Highness.” His smile never reached his eyes as he surveyed Rhode’s pale face and dark circles, making no attempt to hide his contempt. “What brings you to a place like this today? The prisoners aren’t well mannered. If one were to offend your precious person, I could hardly answer for it.”

Rhode heard the barbs beneath his words. Gray had no respect for him and had come out to greet him only because he had to acknowledge the imperial family.

It rankled, but there was little Rhode could do. He had no soldiers, no power, nothing but an empty princely title. Gray, on the other hand, had fought his way up alongside the First Prince.

Now Rhode had to bear the consequences of his predecessor’s misdeeds.

“Enough nonsense.” He forced himself to sound calm, imitating the former prince’s arrogance. “By my father’s command, I have come to interrogate the three leaders of the elven rebels myself. Lead the way.”

Gray’s eye twitched, and he tightened his grip on the hammer. Yesterday he had been on the verge of torturing the three beautiful elves when this useless prince had snatched them away; he had been seething ever since.

“Since it is His Majesty’s command, of course I shall obey.” He stepped aside through clenched teeth. “This way, Your Highness. The cells for serious offenders are on the lowest level. The path is difficult, so watch your step. It would be a shame if you fell.”