Nothing, a fight, that's all. You know how my father is. [He's quick to brush it off, because that's what he does best; brush off the things his father does wrong for the sake of propriety, for the sake of Camelot, but that hardly lasts very long. His eyes return to hers, his thumbs stroking her knuckles as he holds her hands close.]
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Guinevere, would you run away with me?