Guinevere was bewildered. Her eyes widened, then a sweet smile surfaced, reflecting his own. "As enticing as that may sound, I do not want to be a traitor to my country." She replied with a shrug. Then, "I hate to be powerless."
"But all men are powerless." Alexander said softly. She had rendered him powerless since the day she came to the castle, stealing his joy unless she was near.
"I hate to feel powerless." She looked afar off and corrected. "I despise knowing how powerless I am."
He nodded carefully. Guinevere was undeniably smart, her intelligence shining through in her eyes. It was acceptable to feel powerless at times, but it was utterly unacceptable to remain so. He would grant her all the power she needed, and would teach her how to use it. Never again would such feelings plague her.
Alexander rose to his feet. "Pick up that knife." He instructed, pointing to the knife on the table, his voice calm yet commanding.
