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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.”
“Yet magic is still forbidden, on pain of death. She would go, and would not hear of danger, but now Summer is returned I do not think she will go to Camelot again. The danger is too great now for her.” Edward’s words are almost idle, a mere commentary on fact. “She must stay here in Dobria and be wed to advantage. Father has allowed her — you will have seen how unwomanly headstrong she is — father allows her far too much leeway, for my lady mother’s sake.”
Mordred turned towards him, a slight look of disbelief on his face at Edward’s words. “Summer is perfectly happy where she is, she won’t be happy with some man you’ve forced her to marry,” he tells him, his hand still on the brick of the wall. “She is too sweet a girl to be married off for an advantage.”
“Sweet?” Edward’s brows fly upward. “Are we speaking of the same lady? My sister is in no wise sweet. Rather say quicktongued, even cruel at times, distant, and enamored of unwomanly pursuits. I ask you again, what has a knight of Camelot to do with my sister’s happiness? It is not her place to be /happy/.”