“I could hardly fail to honour the knight who brought Summer home when she was most needed.” Elisabeth made sure his cup and plate were filled, and gave him a wise smile. “I hope you two will be able to stay awhile. A few days, at least. Surely King Arthur can spare you for that long?”
Mordred gave a soft smile, drawing his eyes to his plate of food, his cheeks reddening ever so slightly. “It was nothing, truly, I refuse to let her leave by herself, it’s getting far too dangerous.” He reaches forward, taking his goblet, raising it to his lips before he speaks, “of course, it will be my honour, my lady.”
Summer turned her head away, refusing to mention that /she/ had asked /him/ to escort her, not the other way round, and jabbed Mordred in the side with her fingers under the table. Elisabeth merely nodded and said, “You must be very persuasive, then. Summer is a independent sort of lass, and she can usually take care of herself.”