Father and Son

Ververe 6, 1014

Gawaine’s eyes widened as he set foot in Camelot Square. He knew this was here — sometimes he heard the big boys and girls at school talking about going there when they had a break — but he’d never been here before. This was nothing like the market back at home!

“Wow, Father!” Gawaine gasped. “It’s so big!”

His father stopped short, glancing at Gawaine with one eyebrow raised. He slowly looked around, one hand stroking his chin. Gawaine wanted to melt down into his boots. He hated when his father did that. He always felt so stupid. Was it really not big?

“You are right,” Father said finally. “It is rather large.”

Gawaine grinned. He was right! Father had said so!

“But …” Father went on, and Gawaine cringed — on the inside, at least. He didn’t cringe on the outside anymore, not when Father was around. Father said that was unmanly and that Gawaine had to grow a thicker skin. Gawaine wanted to protest that he wasn’t a man, he was only a little boy, and that he didn’t know how to make his skin any thicker — get fat and roly-poly? But his father would have a problem with that, too, he suspected.

He didn’t sigh, but he wanted to. When it came to his father, Gawaine just couldn’t win.

“It’s not a very efficient use of space,” Father went on. “I want you to think about this very closely, Gawaine, because you will be a lord someday, and you will have to manage land and determine what is to be built on it. So. Tell me what you like about this square, and what you think could be better.”

Gawaine’s shoulders slumped. But what else had he been expecting? His father had promised to his visit with a treat, but every treat came with a test attached. It was worse than tests at school, because when you didn’t do so good on a test at school, Sister Margery would look at the test and then talk to you about it and help you to better next time. Father just sighed and shook his head and made Gawaine feel like a fool who would never get any smarter.

But he took a deep breath, because his father didn’t like it when he delayed and dawdled. “Well … I like that it’s big! And bright — much brighter than the market back at home!”

Father’s eyebrows went up. Gawaine swallowed. He’d said the wrong thing, hadn’t he?

“First of all,” he replied, “remember that your mama’s house is not home for you. You live there most of the time, but Orkney is your home. You will be lord of it someday. What other place could be your home?”

Gawaine let his eyes fall. It was the best tactic to take with his father. His father always knew just what he was thinking if he could see Gawaine’s whole face. And his father wouldn’t like what he was thinking now.

He was thinking of Grandma, and how Gawaine had been fretting to her when he was supposed to write a little bit about his home for school. He hadn’t known what to write, because he knew he should be writing about Orkney, but whenever he thought about home, he thought about Mama’s house. So Grandma had kissed him, pulled him up on her lap, tousled his hair, and said to him, “You write about your Mama’s house, Gawaine. Home is where the heart is.”

“Secondly …” Father sighed, and shook his head, and Gawaine knew he had said the wrong thing. “Gawaine, the market in Dyfedshire is completely in the open air. How can this possibly be brighter?”

Gawaine clenched his jaw, the closest he dared to come to a wince. How was he supposed to answer that? He didn’t know how it was that the market here was brighter, even in the shadowed places. It just —

Wait …

Gawaine looked around — and then he saw.

“It’s the stone, Father!” Gawaine gasped. “It’s because it’s so white and clean and bright! It makes the whole market bright! Back h–in Dyfedshire, the market is all grass and dirty. So when it’s sunny, it’s bright, but if it’s cloudy or rainy, it gets all muddy and mucky and it’s not very bright at all. But this market would be brighter even in the rain, ’cause of the white stone.”

And then he smiled. Smiles of this sort rarely worked on his father, but it was a reflex — he always smiled when Mama asked him a hard question and he thought he had puzzled out an answer. Mama usually smiled right back at him, and kissed him, and told him what a smart boy he was.

Father did none of those things. First his eyes widened. Then they narrowed. Then he looked around, thoughtful. Then he turned back to Gawaine.

“You know …” he mused, “you may have a point, Gawaine. This stone does reflect a great deal more of the light …” He glanced down the square. “The reflecting pool may also help.”

Gawaine almost gasped. He was right! His father thought he was smart! That almost never happened!

“But Gawaine, what you do not yet understand is that this is the capital.” Gawaine’s shoulders slumped. Why couldn’t he just be right for once, and his father could correct him later?

His father looked at him, looked away, and looked back very quickly. “Gawaine — I do not expect you to know and understand this. I am telling you so that you might. You are never too young to have an understanding of these things.”

“Oh …”

“But as I was saying — this is the capital. Land here is very scarce. So it is very expensive. So, Gawaine — if you were the lord of this land, how would you use the land so that it got you the most profit?”

Gawaine looked around. How was he to know? He thought the square just fine as it was.

But his father would never be satisfied with that. “Maybe …” Gawaine looked up with his most winsome smile. “Maybe I can look around first, Father? Maybe then I’ll have better ideas?”

Father at first glowered — this his face cleared, and slowly, he nodded. “That is wise, Gawaine. Always have your facts before you make any decisions. Very well. You may look around, and when you have looked your fill, wait for me by the steps of the large building with the blue windows,” Father gestured.

“Wait — wait for you, Father?”

“I have other business to attend to in the square,” replied his father. “But do not worry. I will not be far away. And no one will bother you.” Father smiled. It was rare that Father smiled like that at him, though he had seen Father smile like that at Melehan and Melou once or twice. “You are my son.”

“Yes, sir,” replied Gawaine. And with that, Gawaine skipped off in one direction, while his father strolled off in another.

“And stay away from the pool!” was the last thing Gawaine’s father yelled after him before he let Gawaine be.

As soon as Gawaine could be reasonably sure that his father wasn’t paying attention to him, Gawaine stopped short and breathed in deep. It was amazing just how much brighter it was out here, away from the shadows of the gate! The air even felt bigger and cleaner, easier to breathe. Gawaine was sure his Mama would have something interesting to say about that, if she were here. Maybe someday he would ask Mama to take them all to Camelot Square, so he could hear what she thought about it.

For now, Gawaine would keep walking. He smelled food — his father had said he would get a treat at the square, so maybe there would be something good here. But when he came closer to look …

It was a meat-and-cheese stall. And it wasn’t little strips of jerky or tiny morsels of cheese they were selling, either, but big huge hams, whole strings of sausages, and cheese wheels big enough to put on a wagon and ride into town on. Not exactly snack food. Gawaine was about to walk away.

Then he wondered. His father thought there was something wrong about this place. Maybe he would start here?

Hmm … maybe, instead of an open meat-and-cheese stall, it would be a brighter idea to have a butcher’s shop — like the shop on the other side of the reflecting pool? If there was a shop, then the butcher could keep a lot more meat. He also wouldn’t have to worry about his cheeses getting ruined in the rain. Maybe that was what his father was talking about. Maybe there ought to have been a lot more shops here.

But the more Gawaine thought about that, the more he realized that couldn’t be right. If you filled the square up with shops, then it wouldn’t be the square anymore. It would just be another place with shops, all crowded and cramped and probably dirty too. That couldn’t be what his father had in mind.

Still mulling the problem over, Gawaine wandered away from the meat stand. Then something caught his eye.

His jaw dropped. They had a pair of scales at school that sometimes they got to play with. And there was a pair of scales in the kitchen that sometimes Michelle let him and Nimue use. But these had to be the biggest scales Gawaine had ever seen!

What could they possibly be used for? He circled around as much as he could. If he climbed into one of the baskets, it wouldn’t be hard to use these scales to weigh him!

He wondered … there was a big boy standing by a cashbox not far away. Maybe he would know? But Gawaine’s stomach went funny at the thought of asking. He didn’t like talking to strangers …

But his father said that Gawaine was a Duke’s son, and a Duke’s son could talk to anybody he pleased. He said that a Duke’s son only had to be careful when he was talking to kings and queens and princes and princesses, and here they were all his kinfolk anyway, so he didn’t have to be too careful. And Mama always said that if Gawaine had a question, he should ask it.

That was what decided him. Gawaine walked up to the big boy, coughed, and asked, “Ex–excuse me, mister?”

“What do ye–” The big boy turned, looking angry. Gawaine almost backed away. But then the big boy’s eyes went wide, he swallowed, and he asked, “Yes, m’lord? Is there somethin’ I can be helpin’ ye with?”

M’lord. It felt funny to be called that, even though Gawaine knew he was a lord. Sort of. He was Lord Gawaine, even though he wasn’t actually in charge of anything yet (and hopefully wouldn’t be for a long, long time). Still, the big boy was looking at him — he seemed almost as nervous as Gawaine felt. Gawaine would make this quick.

He smiled as best he could, then he asked, “Could you please tell me what those scales are for?”

“Oh — well, meat, cheeses, stuff like that’s sold by weight.”

“Huh?”

“Er–the more it weighs, the more it costs. So if we’re gonna know how much money ter axe of folks, we need ter be able ter weigh it.”

“But they’re so big!” Gawaine protested. “How come they’re so big?”

The big boy finally smiled. “‘Cause we sell big stuff. A whole rack o’ lamb, a leg o’ pork, a big ol’ wheel of cheese — we need a big scale fer it.”

“Oooh!” Gawaine replied. That was smart. He hadn’t thought of it that way before. He started to nod —

And then he saw it. A flower stall. And it was selling flower crowns!

His Mama loved flowers! She had so many in the garden. She’d love a flower crown, wouldn’t she? Something pretty for her hair?

Gawaine had to go see this more closely. So he thanked the big boy for his help and skipped closer to the flower stall.

And as he skipped, thoughts of his father slowly drifted away. He forgot all about the problem he was supposed to solve, what he was supposed to be watching for. He didn’t even think to wonder where his father was, or what he might have to do here in the square, other than take him out.

When Gawaine got close enough to the flower stall to take a look around and smell the pretty flowers, an apple-cheeked grandmother came up to him with a smile. “Why, hello, me little lord. Is there anythin’ I can be helpin’ ye with today?”

“Is this your flower stall, ma’am?” Gawaine asked. His Mama had always told him to address older women as “ma’am,” even when they were commoners.

The old woman smiled. “Why yes, yes, it is. Is there somethin’ ye might be lookin’ ter buy today? A nice posy fer yer sweetheart, maybe?”

“Oh, I don’t have a sweetheart,” Gawaine replied.

“No sweetheart? A cute little lad like ye?” The old woman gasped and put a hand over her heart. “Why, I never heard the like! What are girls comin’ ter, these days?”

“I don’t know,” Gawaine replied. He never quite understood what girls were thinking. Every time he thought they couldn’t be that much different than boys, he turned out to be wrong — and whenever he remembered how wrong he had been, and tried to treat them differently, they tended to react just how a boy would have.

“But …” Gawaine said, “I have a Mama …”

“A mama! Does she like flowers?”

Gawaine nodded. “A lot!”

“Well! Ye’re in luck, m’lord, ’cause I’ve got lots o’ flowers! Is there somethin’ here ye think she might like?”

“Aye,” Gawaine replied. “One of those pretty –”

“Gawaine?”

Uh oh. “That’s my papa,” he said to the older woman.

“Ye’d best axe him if it’s all right, then, fer ye ter be buyin’ anythin’,” said the old woman. Gawaine nodded and waved to his father.

Father saw him and hurried over. “Sir,” Gawaine said as soon as he was close enough — and before his father could tell him that they had to go — “they have such pretty flower crowns here. And this lady is really nice. Ca–may I buy one for Mama, please?”

Father blinked a couple of times, looked at the flower crowns, then looked at Gawaine. He pursed his lips together. Then he replied, “Gawaine, you may spend your pocket money on anything you please — within reason.”

“Oh.” Gawaine felt his brows knit together. “Sir?”

“Yes?”

“Is a flower crown for Mama within reason?”

The old woman suddenly laughed — Gawaine looked at her, puzzled, but she wasn’t laughing anymore. And when he looked back at Father, Father only looked exasperated. “Yes, Gawaine. A flower crown is within reason.”

“Yay! Thank you, Father!” If it had been Mama or Grandma or Uncle Lamorak — or Grandpa, back when he had been alive — who had said yes, Gawaine would have reached up and hugged or kissed them. But Father didn’t like that. So Gawaine just smiled and turned back to the flower stall. “Can I have that one, please?” he asked, pointing to the yellow-and-pink crown on top of the fake head.

“Ye certainly can!” replied the old lady as she took it off the head. She told him the price, and Gawaine gave it to her, which made her look surprised. It was all the pocket money he’d brought with him, but it would be worth it to see the smile on Mama’s face.

As soon as he’d bought the flower crown, watched the woman carefully wrap it, and had taken it from her, he turned to his father. “Can–may I have my treat now, please?” Hopefully asking that would keep Father from asking him about how Gawaine would make more money off this land.

“Certainly you may. How much pocket money do you have left?”

Gawaine blinked. “S-sir?”

“To buy your treat, of course,” Father continued. “You must keep track of your pocket money. How much do you have left?”

“N-none, sir …”

Father shrugged. “Then I suppose you cannot have a treat today.”

“M’lord–” said the old woman, stepping forward with one hand on her purse. But Father put up one hand, and the old woman stepped back.

“Oh … all right,” said Gawaine.

“This is a good lesson for you to learn, Gawaine. Once you spend your pocket money on one thing, you cannot spend it on another thing. So you must be very careful.”

“Aye, sir.” Gawaine should have expected that something like this would be coming. His father always had lessons in store for him, usually when Gawaine was least expecting them. He shouldn’t have assumed that Father would be like Mama, that when Father said there would be a treat, it wouldn’t mean that Father would pay for it like Mama did when she said there would be a treat.

Gawaine would remember that.

“Now, come along,” said Father, starting to walk and gesturing for Gawaine to follow him. “We had best be getting you back to your mother. And on the way, you can tell me how you would change the square to make it more profitable for you as a lord.”

Gawaine nodded and followed his father, but inwardly he sighed.

It was going to be a long right home.

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20 thoughts on “Father and Son

  1. I’m going to start this as I always start this. I hate Mordred. He doesn’t understand what he’s got in the way of children, and even if he had a thousand years to learn it, he never will.

    This is not the way he is with Melehan and Melou when he takes them out and that’s just sad. Gawaine can’t help who his mother is any more than Mordred could help who his parents were. Poor, sweet, little kid. I hope that Dindrane helps him to feel better. And maybe makes sure that the next time Gawaine is set to go out with his father, he has a little bit of pocket money, because you obviously can’t depend on Mordred for anything at all.

    *shakes head* I suppose it’s too much to hope while he’s grilling Gawaine on the way home, he gets an anvil dropped on his head? While that would be somewhat traumatic for Gawaine, he’d never have to put up with Mordred again. And that can only be good for Gawaine…

    • No, Mordred doesn’t get his kids at all. He takes after Morgause in that way … or at least, after Morgause when it came to Garnet. (I figure the jury was still out on Agravaine when she got what was coming to her.)

      And no, Mordred is not at all like this with Melehan and Melou. With those two, he’s raising boys. With Gawaine, he’s raising a lord. Although I will say, I think Lot probably did exercises like this with Mordred when he was Gawaine’s age — that is to say, asking Mordred what he thought about the things they were seeing, how he might make changes if he were in charge, etc. But I think Lot was better at making them age-appropriate, and he certainly never made Mordred feel as uncomfortable as Gawaine feels. As usual, Mordred has taken what seems to be a decent idea on the surface and has bent it completely out of recognition.

      Alas, Mordred will not be getting an anvil dropped on him when he’s driving home with Gawaine. I wouldn’t do that to Gawaine — or to you readers. When Mordred gets his, you’ll all get to see it — and I will most likely arrange things that Gawaine is nowhere near. 😉

      Thanks, Andavri!

  2. Well. I for one hope that it’s not long at all before Gawaine is in charge of some lands. Better yet if it’s soon enough that Dindrane has to be the regent for a while. No, it’s not too soon to be teaching kids money. No, it’s not too soon to be teaching kids about lands. Yes, it is a problem if you’re making those lessons uncomfortable for them. Yes, it is a problem if you would absolutely give your other kids a treat, just because you like their mother (and she, for some reason, likes you). I always hate bringing Rosette’s kids into it, because it’s not their fault at all.

    Too bad Tartarus isn’t canon. 😦

    Gawaine is such a sweet kid. Even if he didn’t get his treat (which, if Dindrane finds out about this, I’m sure he’ll get something at home), not many kids his age would have thought to get Mama something nice before thinking about getting a pastry for themselves. And clearly Dindrane taught him right, because in spite of being a lord, he was so polite to the shopkeepers. And I’m glad he liked the square, even if he had the misfortune of going with the sperm donor person who probably doesn’t even know Gawaine’s birthday off the top of his head.

    I really hope that one day (even if it’s totally unofficial outside the immediate family), Margery gets to be Gawaine’s other parent. Hell, she’s already better with the orphans than Mordred is with half his kids. Probably at least on-par with him in terms his favourite kids too, if not ahead of him there as well (doting on certain kids over the others doesn’t do ANY of them favours; should’ve learned that Nimue’s birthday party).

    Gah. I just can’t wrap my head around what a dick this guy is to his own kids. Can we drop him and Ietrin into a fish tank full of piranhas?

    • I’ve had a string of long days, so I feel your pain, Van.

      Yeah — you’re right that the problem here isn’t that Mordred is trying to teach Gawaine to be a good lord, it’s that he’s making these lessons profoundly uncomfortable for him. There would be ways to start to teach Gawaine these things without making him feel like he’s constantly getting a pop quiz and being judged for not magically knowing all the answers. Poor little kid. He deserves a better father. Margery would definitely make a better co-parent than his biological father is being!

      Gawaine did somehow end up with 10 nice points, so I think he’s going to be polite to most people. But Dindrane certainly is treating him right. She might be a little stiff and cold with people whom she doesn’t know very well, but she sees no point in being rude to people just because they’re lower on the social ladder than she is. Eilwen and Pellinore taught her better than that.

      As for dropping Mordred and Ietrin into a fish tank full of piranhas … do you know where they have CC for that? Because I think that would be a great idea for Tartarus! 😉

      Thanks, Van!

  3. I think Mordred’s problem is that… he divides his life too sharply, and always has. Business over here, pleasure over there. Dindrane as a wife for duty, for connection, Rosette as a mistress for love, for companionship. Dindrane’s children aren’t for him, and never were, they’re for Orkney, while Rosette’s kids have no obligation (from Mordred’s point of view) to be anything but his kids. He’s got a duty to make sure Gawaine will be a good Lord Orkney someday, but literally has no legal duty at all to his illegitimate kids, which leaves him free to love on them to his heart’s content.

    None of this makes it easier on Gawaine and Nimue, of course, but I’d lay money that’s why Mordred treats them so differently. I also suspect the pressure of being Mordred, kingslayer and kingmaker, is why he’s trying to give Gawaine an economics lesson he’s too young for. Same reason he gave Rosette a way to support herself. We saw him making sure his mistress would be okay, financially, if he goes the way of his mother; now we’re seeing him trying to make sure his lands will be managed properly (and that Master Barber won’t be in charge until HE dies).

    (Really, the one thing where I DON’T see where Mordred is coming from (I disagree, but I still see his motivation), is making Gawaine pay for his own treat. Pull that one a couple more times, Mordred, and you will never be able to bribe your son, because when you say ‘if you do X, you may have Y,’ he’ll always ask ‘do I have to pay for X myself?’ Not that I’m saying one should build a relationship based on bribery with one’s kids, but I have cleaned bathrooms to obtain toys, and I would not have done so if I’d had to pay for Barbie with my own money.)

    Poor Gawaine, though. It is seriously no fun at all being under the scrutiny of the high-pressure parent. Here’s hoping he at least runs with the ‘some of the stalls would be better as shops’ idea. … And possibly notes that he didn’t find any takeaway food stalls, which WOULD be profitable.

    • Mordred always has been too good about compartmentalizing. And playing head-games with himself as well as everyone else. He can always find a way to justify himself and say that he’s right … even if someone as smart as he is ought to be able to see the damage he’s causing to people that he cares about. (I mean, even though Mordred shows a lot more affection toward Rosette’s kids, his kids with Dindrane are still his kids.)

      And Mordred could be trying to prepare things for if/when he goes. Or he could just be impatient and figure that any son of his (and Dindrane’s, because whatever Dindrane’s other faults in Mordred’s mind, being light of brain isn’t one of them) ought to be able to catch on to this even if he’s technically too young for this. But Gawaine has a very different personality than Mordred (duh), so even if their IQ scores are similar, Gawaine’s just not going to see or think the way Mordred does.

      To which, I think, we can all say THANK GOD!

      As for the treat, I think when Mordred first promised Gawaine the treat, he automatically assumed that he (Mordred) would be paying for it. Even Mordred’s not so fucked in the head that he promises a five-year-old a treat and expects the five-year-old to pay for it. Then Gawaine bought Dindrane that flower crown, and, well, irrational Mordred took over. He may well find in the future that he shot himself in the foot there, because now Gawaine’s got even less trust for Mordred than he did before.

      Lol! The bread tables were supposed to be takeaway food. (Pretend they’re currant buns and sweet rolls!) And in the shop that they didn’t into, there’s a pub with one of bienchen83’s Community Lot Revolution food stands.

      … Jiminy Cricket, I really got to be careful about how I let Mordred out on the loose. Now he’s making ME feel bad about my lot-building skills!

      Thanks, Hat! 😀

  4. Dear lord. That is just a ridiculous way to treat a child. Poor kid.

    And I have nothing else to say, because Mordred’s behaviour is just beyond words. *shakes fist* *huggles Gawaine*

    Emma 🙂

    • Gawaine could definitely use the huggles. Somehow, I don’t think that Mama and Grandma and Uncle Lamorak and Sister Margery can give that kid enough to make up for Daddy dearest.

      Thanks, Emma! 🙂

  5. Oh for goodness sakes, is it really too much to ask that Mordred loves his children EQUALLY. This is what I hate most about him. I mean, come on, Gawaine’s… what, 6? He needs love at that age, not training. But of course, Mordred doesn’t understand that because he is not being a good parent.

    It’s just, I really could forgive him for a lot of things if he treated his children equally. But I guess that isn’t gonna happen anytime soon.

    (Oh and I’m all caught up again! Yay!!!)

    • I don’t think it’s in Mordred’s makeup to treat his kids equally … or at least, his kids by Rosette equally with his kids by Dindrane. He’s pretty consistent when dealing with one set or the other, but across sets? Forget it. They just don’t inhabit the same space in Mordred’s mind.

      And no, Mordred really isn’t a good parent — not when he treats half of his children like miniature adults who ought to stop being miniature so they can get on with the business of life … while the other half get to be as childish as they please, because hey, they’re just kids.

      Yay for being caught up! Congrats, Joseph — and thanks! 😀

  6. Damn you, Mordred! Damn you to the fiery pits of hell! You just don’t f****** care about this boy who happens to be your son, do you? ARGGGH!!

    *takes deep breath*

    *takes another*

    No, not working. Still furious.
    I’ll have to do something about this. Be back as soon as I have.

  7. Dammit, Mordred, can’t you just let the poor kid be a kid for once?! No, there’s nothing wrong with teaching Gawaine the value of money, or with preparing him for his future role as Lord Orkney, but you can do it in ways that are fun and age-appropriate. Having poor Gawaine take tests upon tests that he will fail no matter what he does is not the way to go.

    I just realised something. When it comes to Dindraine’s children, Mordred is their sire. When it comes to Rosette’s? He’s their father.

    (And I am hereby caught up, even though there are a couple of chapters I’m going to return to and comment on later. :D)

    • Yaaaay! Congrats on being all caught up, Nix! (For the moment, anyway. Sort of. After all, I just put a new post up! 😉 )

      Yeah, Mordred definitely needs a better understanding of just what is age-appropriate (to say nothing of fun) for Gawaine. Dindrane does thought exercises with the kids, too. But when she does them, she does them in ways that are meant to be fun — “What would the world be like if everything were upside-down? Why do you think that clouds are fluffy and white?” That kind of thing. And if she screws up and asks a question that’s over their heads (hey, she’s only human), she makes it clear as soon as she realizes that she screwed up that it was HER mistake, not theirs.

      I think that’s a great way of explaining the great Rosette vs. Dindrane’s kids divide. 😀 Sire vs. father. Perfect! (Another way I think the characters describe it is father vs. papa, which gets at the same kind of divide.)

      Thanks, Nix! 😀

      • Heh, glad you like the sire vs. father, I felt quite clever when I thought of it. 😉 BTW, I don’t think I’ve said so before, but like Winter below I really, really like Mordred’s grammar police tendencies (even though I don’t like that it’s something I can relate to – I don’t want to be able to relate to Mordred :roll:). I have no problem imagining him offing somebody in a cruel and painful way because they used “further” instead of “farther”. ;:P

  8. Gawaine schooled his father on how to improve the square. He was polite to the merchants and curious as to what they’re doing – and not in a “how can I profit from this?” way. Politeness costs nothing and wins a lot. If Gawaine had been a little jerk to the flower seller, I highly doubt she would have cared that Gawaine was going to go without his treat. Genuine politeness – what a novel concept, eh Mordred? (If you ever master this, Mordi, you can move on to not punishing your children for being born of the wrong mother.)

    I keep meaning to mention how much I like Mordred’s Grammar Police streak as point of character. It adds a certain stuffiness (and a certain terror in the children) that suits his rotten personality. He has no issue with murdering people, but he’ll make damn sure everyone uses “can” and “may” correctly. Brilliant!

    • Tee hee, I’m glad somebody likes Mordred’s Grammar Nazi tendencies! But I keep waiting for more people to notice the little grammar easter eggs I keep putting in there. Suffice to say that Mordred is not as good at grammar as he thinks he is. 😉

      Ooh, that’s a really good point about Gawaine already knowing how to improve the square. Being polite and kind will win you a lot more points (and potentially a lot more profit) as a lord than trying to maximize your returns on every since investment. If you’re known as a nice lord, people will want to move to your lands because they don’t want to live under a total asshole. More people = more money for you. Gawaine is on to something here!

      Thanks, Winter! 😀

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