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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.
“Wh-hat?” It’s like ice water to the face. Then pure fury rises in her. “How /dare/ you?” Unlike Mordred, Summer’s voice drops to a hiss. “How dare you choose for me again? How dare you set your desires above mine without asking me?” Wobbling, she gets to her feet and stalks up to him, one hand lifted to slap him.
A look of shock rises over his face but it’s gone, replaced by nothing more than anger. “The decision was not yours to make, Summer, just as it was not mine, so I didn’t make that choice, I walked away. I will not choose between you and Camelot. I don’t care what it costs me,” he growls.
“If you will not choose, then how did we end up here, facing one another?” It’s a logical question, though she is still convinced that escaping fate is possible. Just … not like this. “I choose. /I/ choose, and I choose you. Camelot could vanish into the fae realms, so long as I am with you. And if you will not accept that choice, then leave. Me. Here.”