He gently kneels down and shakes her arm. “Summer? You’re gonna get cold out here.” He speaks softly.
She leaned her head against the wall and began to laugh, a strange strangled sort of sound. “You are the /only/ person who could stop me, my lord, you are the king. You could have me locked up, or killed, and nothing I could do or say would save me. If you ordered me to stay, instead of pleading, I would have no recourse other than to obey you.” The expression on her face was a tangled mass of conflicting emotions as she approached him: part desire to stay, part terrible determination, part broken heart.Arthur gently gripped his pants as he looked at her. “I never said that I wouldn’t stop to try and save you. But if everything would be better for how you need to handle this then yes, maybe it’s best for you to stay away. Just until we figure all this out. Would you rather be in dungeons? I wouldn’t think that you would forgive me afterwards,” he questioned, standing up as he backed up, standing in the middle of the room.
Her laugh came again, even more warped, like her lungs were full of broken glass. “I should stay away, until we figure this out. Do you not even hear what you say?” Summer backed Arthur up against the wall, shattering under the conflict of desire and honour. “If you wish me to stay, you must order it, my lord. You must order it right now.”