They'd chosen to fight, as predicted--but the timely intervention of Marianne had bought the extra few seconds needed and her arm, whilst still horribly burnt, actually had functional muscle again. Tyaethe forced herself to grasp her sword properly and took a moment to clear up any doubts about her identity: "Don't call me a little girl! Don't you idiots recognise the sword? I'm Sir Tyaethe!"

Despite the frustration evident on her face and in the luminescence, the paladin took a deep breath as the skeletons moved in and charged herself, ducking under one skeleton's swinging axe and barging another with her shoulder before it could attack. Her focus seemed to be entirely on the necromancer, with the paladin drawing the sword back for a clear thrust... but the thrust never came, only a cursory swing to ward off an attempt at getting too close as the run came to a dead halt. 

The paladin had weaved through the beginning of the melee and the one conspirator they would absolutely have to take alive--in order to take up a position guarding their hostage. If the Knights foe had no leverage, then everyone else needed no reason to hold back.