Every bit of his mind, heart, and body was devoted to one thing - Make that bastard pay.
People were practically throwing themselves out of his way. Everyone who didnt, was either shoved to the side, or trampled over.
Dupont. Amelie. Two of his superiors, and then that ingrate. The sight of the Directeur sparked a fleeting flash of a thought, a slight inkling of a redicision.
Oh well. That didnt last long.
Before the prince could react, he grabbed his coat collar, pulling him up to a wobbly standing position. As he felt him fall forward, Perrot loosed an upwards punch, sending him a few inches up, before the prince fell back down with a thud.
Sanding over him, still dripping from the water, he began to speak.
"I'll assume that...little spill was an 'accident', mon ami."
He scowled downwards, and then turned around, raising a hand.