Summer turned her face into his hand before kissing it, chuckling. “Yes, my lord. That’s not my worry. Only that I am a stranger to them. But I shan’t think about it now. Yule is some time off, and I don’t want anything to spoil this afternoon.” Closing her eyes, she nudged his hand. “Tell me something beautiful, Mordred.”
Mordred hums, running his thumb over her cheek, observing her for a moment. “Well there is this girl, her name is Summer-” he says with a smile. “Do you want me to continue with telling you about something beautiful?”
She blushed and laughed, warmed by the compliment and his touch. “You are biased, I’m not beautiful. I aspire to striking, one day.”