She pulls his head down to whisper in his ear, “My magic. I know you were surprised in a bad way. I can always know what you are feeling, Mordred.”
“You’re an empath?” Mordred asks, turning his head to the side, his lips mere inches from her face. “You never told me?”
She lets go, steps back, and starts to fidget. Not looking him in the eyes and suddenly frightened of his reaction, she mutters, “I didn’t know how. Talking about our,” she flourishes a hand, “it hurts you. I tried to, I said, I told you that you couldn’t lie to me, but we got sidetracked.” She sneaks a glance at his face.
“If I’m to keep leaving you surprises, I shall have to try harder to be sneaky.” She steps away and brushes her hands down her skirts. “Unless you want me to stop.”
”You don’t have to stop,” he tells her, brushing her hair back from her face. “It’s sweet, and I adore it.”
“I think you were a little suspicious the first time,” Summer stage-whispers.
“My job,” she tells him, “is to stay here in Camelot until I am sent for at home, and to keep myself busy learning arts I cannot learn there.” She leans on him and tries to kiss his pout. “Do you wish me to amuse you, Mordred?”
“Are you going to try be sneaky again?” he asks, “because if so that shall amuse me greatly.” Mordred tells her with a laugh, “But do as you please.”
“If I’m to keep leaving you surprises, I shall have to try harder to be sneaky.” She steps away and brushes her hands down her skirts. “Unless you want me to stop.”
She tosses her head, trying to be serious. “It’s not my job to amuse you.” She doesn’t try very hard to get away. “Clearly you will have to teach me to sneak.”
He pouts, releasing the grip on her wrists gently. “It’s not? Well then I don’t know what your job is then,” he says sarcastically. “Hm, perhaps I could, or perhaps not.”
“My job,” she tells him, “is to stay here in Camelot until I am sent for at home, and to keep myself busy learning arts I cannot learn there.” She leans on him and tries to kiss his pout. “Do you wish me to amuse you, Mordred?”
“You are! You are laughing at me!” Summer dashes at him, giggling herself, and hammers her fists on his chest. “Don’t laugh at me.”
Mordred chuckles, grabbing her fists after she beats them against his chest a few times. “Fine, I’m sorry, but it was quite amusing.”
She tosses her head, trying to be serious. “It’s not my job to amuse you.” She doesn’t try very hard to get away. “Clearly you will have to teach me to sneak.”
