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Mordred stopped, placing his vambrace down on the bench, his heart sinking. For a moment he concentrates completely on his armour, how could he answer such a question? Telling her would mean her life and the lives of those whom called Camelot home. An impossible predicament.
The young knight turns to face her, his fingers brushing lightly against the metal of his armour. “I’m not hiding anything” he tells her simply.
It takes Summer a minute to find the energy to get back up. She takes a step and halts, one hand on a tree trunk. “Yes, my lord. Merlin. Or Leon.”
Mordred drew his sword, handing the hilt to her as his fingers curled around the blade, the metal cutting into his hand slightly but he ignored it. “Take this, for your safety, I must take my leave.”
“Your sword is too heavy for me, my lord. And you will need it.” She summons all her courage, everything she has left, but cannot find a smile for him. Instead she squares her shoulders and takes a step, and another step. Away from him.
Away.
She doesn’t know where she’s going. She was already lost before they captured her, and for all she knows they’re in Caerleon by now, or Mercia. Ismere. It doesn’t matter. Just one foot in front of the other.