"They want to kill me," she said.
"That would be a shame—and a waste," I told her with my best come-hither grin. She ignored it. "What can I do about it?" I asked, going back to business, since she didn't seem interested in my masculine attractions.
"I want you to be my bodyguard," she said, and when I smiled and opened my mouth to speak she went on, "and please spare me any remarks about how it is a body you would like to guard. I get enough of that from Cassitor."
"All I wanted to say was that I accepted the position," which was a big lie because I had had some such phrase in mind. It was hard to stay ahead of Angelina and I mustn't relax for an instant I reminded myself again. "Just tell me more about the people who are out to kill you."
"It seems that Count Rdenrundt was married," Angelicious said, toying with her glass in a simple, girlish way. "His wife committed suicide in a very stupid and compromising manner. Her family—who are of course the Radebrechen—think I killed her, and want to revenge her supposed murder by killing me in turn. Apparently in this lost corner of Freibur the vendetta still has meaning, and this family of rich morons still subscribe to it."
All at once the picture was getting clearer. Count Rdenrundt—a born opportunist—aided his noble fortunes by marrying the daughter of this family. This must have worked well enough until Angelina came along. Then the extra wife was in the way, and ignorant of this charming local custom of revenge-killing, Angelina had removed a stumbling stone. Something had gone wrong—probably the Count had bungled, from the look of the man—and now the vendetta was on. And my Angel wanted me to interpose my frail flesh between her and the killers. Apparently she was finding this retarded planet more than she had bargained for. Now was the time for me to be bold.
"Was it suicide?" I asked, "Or did you kill her?"
"Yes, I killed her," she said. The sparring was over and all our cards were on the table. The decision was up to me.