“Most of the knights I know are so arrogant about it. As if being knighted makes them better than the rest of us.” She sighed a little. “I’m afraid I irredeemably offended the knights near father’s estate, which is why I’m here now. I’m supposed to make a good impression.”
With a little smile and a cocked eyebrow, Summer met Mordred’s eyes. “Have I made a good impression on you?”
Mordred chuckled. “So far so good, don’t worry,” he tells her with a smile. “I have known and met few knights whose status has gone to their heads, it is indeed an ugly thing and it is not what the job is about,” he says. “Those people are merely fools and feeble minded.”
Quite purposefully, she slipped a little closer, flirting a little. “So, what kind of wife shall I be? Make sure you’re fed? Polish your armour, sharpen your sword? Shall I stay home and keep your house, or shall I ornament your arm and give you my favour for tournaments?”