She continued, “Asaprincess of Monaco—and that’s officialfor months and you heard it announced at the Winter Ball—I order you to allow us to leave.”
More of the Secret Service guys nodded.
One said, “She is a princess, so she has some authority. Prince Pierre isn’t here to countermand it.”
As if on goddamn cue, another group of Secret Service agents rounded the corner at full tilt, weapons drawn and ready.
Prince Pierre Grimaldi stood in their midst,though some of them tried to crowd him back when they saw the armedWelfenlegionmen standing in the hallway.
She recognized quite a few of the Monegasque agents: Claude Brousseau, Mathys Vitale, and Jordan Defrancesco. All had defended Pierre and her from threats.
Pierre didn’t step back, however. He yelled, “What are you waiting for?Shoot them!Try not to hit the princess.”
If Pierre werea widower, his problem with being divorced wouldn’t matter.
Flicka yelled,“No!Stop! Don’t shoot! I command you to stand down! I am not being kidnapped. I want to leave with these men.”
The Secret Service men shuffled on their feet, trying to decide which set of orders to follow, but all of them had raised their guns to aim at Flicka and Raphael again. The guys around Pierre followed, theirguns hovering in the air.
So many guns were locked on them.
Flicka yelled,“No! Stop!”
Pierre shouted, “I said,fire!”
Raphael spun, gathering Flicka under his arms, and crouched over her, blocking any bullets with his own body, like Dieter always had.
Wait, no,Raphael.
It didn’t matter anymore. She clung toDieterand murmured“Lieblingwächter.”
In her ear, she heard him say,“Durchlauchtig,”as she peeked out from under his arm.
Quentin Sault, who stood beside Pierre and had moved half in front of the prince, holstered his weapon. “Men, stand down.”
Pierre yelled, “No! I said, shoot them!”
Quentin explained to Pierre, “It’s an enclosed space. We’re standing across from each other. Our men will be casualties or fatalities in the crossfire. This is an indefensible position.”
“They’resurrounded!”
“It’s a circular firing squad, Pierre. We’re shooting across them and into each other, and the rounds will ricochet, too. It’s not going to work.”
The Secret Service agents all lowered their guns, looking confused and guilty. Yeah, they should have noticed that earlier.
Raphael looked around, over her head, and slowly stood.
Flicka straightened her beaded skirt. “All right, we’regoing to leave now, slowly, and no one will shoot anyone.”
Pierre turned and shouted, “Julien,do something!”
Flicka stepped back from theWelfenlegionsoldier, Julien Bodilsen, horrified.
Raphael asked, “Julien?”
Julien turned, his dark eyes wide on his face. He stepped backward a few paces, out of reach, and brought his gun around to point at Flicka. “I’m sorry, Your Highness. You need togo with Prince Pierre.”
Raphael said to him, “We were in ARD-10 together. Alpine ice is thicker than water.”
