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Mordred stopped, placing his vambrace down on the bench, his heart sinking. For a moment he concentrates completely on his armour, how could he answer such a question? Telling her would mean her life and the lives of those whom called Camelot home. An impossible predicament.
The young knight turns to face her, his fingers brushing lightly against the metal of his armour. “I’m not hiding anything” he tells her simply.
She watches him down the corridor, bewildered and hurt. This isn’t like the first time they fought — she trusts his heart now, and believes he trusts hers. So why won’t he tell her? What is he protecting her from?
It’s horrible. She swipes at the tears on her face, more rolling down every time she blinks. Out. She has to get out, from the castle, from Camelot entire. She has to not think about it, though it’s already too late; the fear has already begun.
She forces composure, holds her head high. Turning the other direction, she makes her way out of the castle, out of the town, blindly walking through the forest with no thought of where she’s going.
Mordred had left under the cover of darkness, his footsteps echoing along the cobblestone, the hood of his cloak shielding his face. He couldn’t stay here anymore; the task was far too impossible and everywhere he looked all he could see was her.
When he had come upon the camp he hadn’t known but the only thing that alerted him to the fact he was in the right place was the sword’s tip pressing into the skin on his back. “Back so soon Sir Mordred?”
Summer had walked out of Camelot without thought, intent only on running away from the pain. At home, in Dover, it would have been fine; she knew those forests like the beat of her own heart, and there was no chance of getting lost. In the forests of Camelot, it was a whole different thing.
It’s been hours, and she’s never been so lost in her life. She’s far out of reach of anyone she could touch with her magic, and on foot she could be almost anywhere by now. Hopelessly, she sits down with her back to a tree and just cries for a while, lost and alone and afraid. When her tears run dry, leaving her raw, the night has mostly closed in, and the air is chill.
She gives up the idea of finding her way back to Camelot, making a tiny fire with her magic and curling up next it.