Summer squeaked, flailing once with all limbs and then falling flat. “Cruel. But I know your weakness!” She grabbed at his leg and tickled the spot behind his knee. “I will never yield!” Her eyes flicked over his shoulder, and then Winter put her hands lightly round his neck.
“Yield to us, sir knight,” the darker twin whispered with a grin.
Mordred chuckled, kicking out, falling back from her. When Winter’s hands wrapped around his neck he froze, squirming ever so slightly. “Get your hands from around my neck, please.”
Winter’s fingers twitched, ever so slightly, and then she stepped back. “I think I will go inside.” Her voice sounded strange, and Summer started up from the grass, hand outstretched. Her twin flicked a hand, and she stopped, then glanced down to Mordred.
“I, um, sorry. We — I didn’t mean — sorry.”