It took everything Katchoo had to keep herself from grabbing his arm and hauling him back right that moment -- not her 'place,' not in her servant's role. It was much less her 'place' to keep from peeling Catrina's face like a banana, as tempting as that had been for days now.

She'd already known the situation was dire before they'd arrived; she'd nearly been run over by a pair of guards while struggling with armfuls of wet laundry and it hadn't been hard to deduce they were looking for Merlin when they'd been yelling about it so much.

She counted to five -- slowly, gritting her teeth, glancing toward Francine several times in a hopefully meaningful way -- and muttered a few hasty excuses before backing toward the door after Arthur.