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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.
“Fine. Then I will find a room that has only one door, and lock us in it, until you tell me what is worrying you.” She stalks across the floor, hands still on hips, to fetch up on the other side of the bench he’s standing at. “I don’t like it when you hide things from me, things that make you upset.” Whatever it is, he feels very strongly about it, and she wonders if maybe she would do better to try to take his mind off it, instead of prying it out of him.
”It has got nothing to do with you,” he tells her.
A lie, pure and simple.
It had everything to do with her.
Mordred walked forward, stopping a few feet from the door to the armoury. He needed to get out, he couldn’t breathe, it felt like someone was suffocating him. “May I get through?”
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.”