She sighed. “Well. Is there aught you want to do?” She looked down at herself, leather and leggings and sweat, and added, “I should probably bathe, and put up my gear properly. I’m sure if you ask round someone will be willing to train with you — or I could.”
”It’s fine, you need to bathe and change,” he tells her, rising to his feet and offering her his hand, “you look like a mess.”
“Oh, unkind!” Summer took Mordred’s hand and pulled, wrapping her arms around him as she came to her feet. “And yet you say you love me. I thought you said I am beautiful, but I see now.” She grinned up at him. “Perhaps you agree with Edward, I am unfeminine and therefore undesirable?” The words spilled out of her mouth before she thought, a memory pulled to the surface she hadn’t meant to expose quite so rawly.