xregicide-deactivated20140812:
Mordred grunts, his eyes fluttering open after a few seconds and he smiles. “Good morning” he mutters, moving into a sitting position “you didn’t have to.”
Summer swallows a squeak. The king’s blue eyes are daunting, and she really wants to take Mordred’s hand again. “I — I was hoping I could beg an escort of you, sire, back to my home. I’m — I’m needed there.”
Arthur intertwines his fingers together in front of him, placing his quill down on the desk. “Her lord father is ill, sire,” Mordred tells him, “and her sister is exhausting herself looking after him, he might not make it,” he adds, throwing her a look. “She received word today and she didn’t want to bring it to your attention.”
She manages to control her face at Mordred’s blatant lie, biting at her lips and giving the king her most appealing, helpless-girl look. “I-if Sir Mordred could escort me — it’s just Dover … “
Arthur’s eyes flick back and forth between the two, clearly pondering. “Just the one?” He lifts a hand, dismissing any insult on Mordred’s part. “Mordred is a fine knight, don’t get me wrong.”
She looks to Mordred for help, and back to the king. “I shouldn’t think — I’m not very important, I don’t need more than the one … ” Inspiration strikes. “Surely if there’s just the two of us, it will be safer, we will attract less attention.”