“You’ll have to show me.”
Laurence patted Summer’s shoulder. “I’ve been telling you, but perhaps you will learn better from Sir Mordred.” He put his hand on Mordred’s shoulder as well. “So, you don’t mind this aspect of my daughter, as Edward does?”
”One day,” he tells her with a laugh. Mordred turns his attention to Laurence, shaking his head. “No, of course not, where I grew up women were just as responsible as the men for ensuring our safety.”
Laurence caught Summer’s eye, and after a moment she gave a wry smile, shaking her head. “Yes, father,” she said. “Please don’t keep him too long.” Winter drew her away, pulling the sword from the ground with every evidence of familiarity.
Summer’s father looked back to Mordred. “I must agree with my son’s assumption, though with little else — there is quite a bit between you and my daughter. Would you care to explain it to me?”