Ever since they had arrived in the Lord Taj's rooms and been given their own place to live within, that bird had been staring at him. It made him terribly uncomfortable, knowing that within that tiny body was the soul of a woman. This was no magical bird with the innate tendancies to intelligence. This was a person trapped in a small, feathered body. He himself had been trapped once, though in his situation, he had been cut off from the real world for hundreds of years. He tried to tell himself that she had it better than he had, but it still troubled him greatly to be the one who held the golden chain.Rissa, predictably, had felt it a suitable punishment and blatently was ignoring the glaring bird. She was moving about the room and moving things to where she liked them. The bird had been provided a perch, and it huddled there, clearly sullen, unhappy, and very very angry. Its feathers were all fluffed and at odd angles, unsettled into place as a natural burd would have done. He squirmed under her gaze and finally rose from his seat on the bed.
"I can't stand it, Rissa love," he rumbled unhappily. "I have to get out of her sight or she'll drive me mad." It was bad enough that the woman had made their lives miserable while she'd kept them in chains. But to be safe now, but still have her torturing him? It was unbearable. He eased out of the room and into the eating area, then passing through into the garden.
He didn't bother to find a rock, but merely sprawled on the grass beneath a tree, staring up into the leafy canopy unseeingly. It was marvelous to be able to walk properly again, but his pleasure in that was heavily tainted by a heavy heart. His concience pricked him, and he could not ignore it. The little bird's presence haunted him.
