s dark eyes tormented by that same pain that struck inward through her whole body, and he said, I would you were not so like to my mother, Morgaine . She could see the small vein in his throat and knew that if she could cut swift and deep to where the great artery lay beneath it, he would be dead almost before he could cry out. But even though our mourning is still green, I ask you to accept Gwydion-sir Mordred- the son of my only sister, Morgaine of Avalon, as my heir. Among the abundance of festival meats, he had nothing on his plate but a bit of bread, without even butter, and in his cup was only water.
Yet when Arthur had asked her to go, she had been afraid to leave the enclosing walls of Caerleon. We were born from a single womb and I could not face my mother in the country beyond death, not with the blood of my brother on my hands, and for now whenever she looked on Morgaine, she thought her sister-in-law must be remembering it, too. You cannot imagine how he is worshipped.
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