“I dreamed it. I dreamed it again,” she whispered. “All alone, in the dark — you don’t want me to go with you, but if I don’t face it … “
Mordred nodded lightly, “It’s alright, I understand,” he answered; his voice soft. “I’ll see if I can convince the King to allow you to ride with us,” he reasoned, after all, that was all he could think to do.
He’d already convinced Arthur to go on a trip to find these bandits, what harm could this attempt do?
Summer shakes against him for a long minute, fighting down the fear she can’t control. It’s an effort of sheer will to step away, sinking low in a curtsey. “My deepest apologies, Sir Knight. I don’t know what came over me. I’ll just — I’ll just take a walk, to clear my head.”