“One day,” she threatens, grinning, shaking a finger at him, “one day, Mordred, there will be something which I am better at, and you will rue that day!” She hurls another grape at him.
”Hm, one day,” he tells her, catching the grape in his palm, placing it in his mouth. “But today, sadly, is not that day, and tomorrow doesn’t look good either.”
“Ooooh! You are going to pay for that, sir knight, and speedily!” Giggling, she throws the entire rest of the stem at him, and pounces on him again.