[ -- of course. Of bloody course. Arthur takes a minute to respond, a moment spared to try and swallow back disappointment and resentment, neither of which are for Guinevere herself but more for the circumstance that keeps allowing for this to pass. The past year that she's been his rock, his pillar -
- but no. That's not right. He can't think that way. A friend has joined them, a dear one in a dire situation. What else can he do? ]
Tell her the King should like to see her, when ever she can be made available. All else [ He pauses in his writing, boring his thumb and forefinger into his eyes. He doesn't know. He hates this. ] is at your discretion. I trust your judgment.
[ Arthur will just ... deal with the ramifications as they come. ]
[text]
- but no. That's not right. He can't think that way. A friend has joined them, a dear one in a dire situation. What else can he do? ]
Tell her the King should like to see her, when ever she can be made available. All else [ He pauses in his writing, boring his thumb and forefinger into his eyes. He doesn't know. He hates this. ] is at your discretion. I trust your judgment.
[ Arthur will just ... deal with the ramifications as they come. ]