"Guinevere is a truly beautiful name, have I not mentioned it before?" His tone was soft and his remark, contemplative.
He had. Gwen nodded slowly, recalling previous instances when he had addressed her by name. "I mean, you address me as if we were acquaintances." In truth, he had extended more familiarity than mere acquaintanceship. "As if we were friends."
"We are friends. Any friend of Carlisle is a friend of mine." The king asserted, his horse nudging hers playfully as if to emphasize his point.
"But I am not a friend of the Duke; it is my sister who shares that bond with him, not me." Gwen pointed out.
"Then we should uproot that obstacle. From this day forth, we are friends, Guinevere." He declared, his words carrying an air of finality.
