“Your Serene Highness, I am obeying orders.”
“So I’ve caught you,” came in Aloyse’s voice behind them. He was advancing upon Grafton with his sword drawn. His eyes looked murder.
Erica darted between them. “Aloyse! Would you attack an unarmed man?”
She advanced upon him and caught his sword. “Give it to me,” she commanded.
“Let go! Let go!” he said, wildly. “I wish to kill him—the scum—the vermin!”
“You wish to make yourself infamous,” she replied, still holding the sword. “Prince von Moltzahn,” she called over her shoulder, “either hand your sword to Mr. Grafton or help me disarm this fool.”
Moltzahn stood uncertainly, murmuring something about “the son of my sovereign.”
“Release him, Erica,” said Grafton. “He dare not attack me. He’s had time to think.”
Erica tugged at the sword, and Aloyse yielded it with a great show of reluctance. “Now what are you going to do?” she said, scornfully. “Why are you here? Why are you always making yourself ridiculous?”