“Do you never want anything for yourself?” She sat up a little, wanting to see his face when he answered. Not that she wouldn’t know what he was feeling anyway, but seeing it made it more vivid.
Mordred looks up at her for a second, turning his gaze to anywhere but her after she asked her question. There was an answer to that question, a plain and simple one but then that would require explanations. He’d never gotten anything he’d wanted, his parents, a normal life, why start now. “To have a bed to sleep in and a warm meal.”
The simplicity of his desire, and the emotion coupled with it, took her breath away. One hand hovered over his cheek, fingertips just barely brushing the skin. “Oh, Mordred … ” Anguish for him laced her voice.