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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.
She pulls herself up as tall as she possibly can, face set.”No. Not until you stop lying to me.” It’s hard to hold on to the anger when what she wants to do is ease the worry away, but she can’t do that if he won’t tell her. “This can’t work if you lie to me!” Changing tack slightly, she adds, coaxing, “Maybe I can help, whatever it is.”
A form of a permanent frown etches itself into his forehead, looking over her for a moment. There was no way he was going to tell her and there was no way he was going to hurt her by trying to move her. “Summer,” he hisses, “this doesn’t concern you,” he tells her, “now move.” The look on his face was one he hadn’t worn in a long time, one of danger and warning, one that caused his eyes to darken and shadows to dance across his face. “Please.”
She flinches back, wholly involuntarily, and for the first time fears him a little. “Please,” she pleads back, in return. “Only tell me, don’t lie to me.” Tears stand in her eyes. “Why do you insist on lying to me?”