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The long hallway of the Silver Collar Palace leading to Prince Lloyd’s chambers was in chaos. The soldiers surrounding Prince Alford shouted commands.
“Seize the traitor!”
Alford, encircled but unyielding, shouted back, “How dare you call me a traitor! I am the true king of this land!”
Weapons clashed with a cacophony of metallic screeches as the skirmish erupted.
Clang! Clang!
Alford yelled once more, directing his fury at the soldiers. “Stand down at once! All I want is that frail weakling, Lloyd!”
The captain of the guard, Sir Jeliard, frowned as he observed the scene. Despite the charged atmosphere, the fight itself was oddly restrained. Alford wasn’t aiming to cause lethal injuries but instead seemed to be holding back, maintaining just enough distance to avoid doing serious harm.
It doesn’t seem like he intends to harm the soldiers, Jeliard thought.
It was uncharacteristic of Alford, but then again, everything about this situation was unusual. A prince behaving like a madman wasn’t exactly standard fare. There was no point in questioning why a madman wasn’t acting like his usual self.
The problem was that this restraint on Alford’s part made it difficult for the guards to escalate...
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