“Who art thou,” she asked with a slight tremor in her voice that had nothing to do with fear and the frailty of age. While she may have sounded weak, you could almost hear the hidden strength that lay just beneath her surface.
“Do not you remember the Knight born of common blood,” he asked in a soft, tremulous voice.
“Born of common blood? Bors? Could it possibly be you that stands at my door?” Confusion was evident in her voice. This couldn’t be Sir Bors. Bors hadn’t been seen since he left on his quest to find the Grail with Perceval and Galahad. Rumors had abounded of his death for years now.
“It is Milady. Might I beg entrance into your cottage and impose upon your solitude,” he enquired politely.
“Granted Bors,” Seraphim answered in the same tone. Bors walked humbly into her home. Granted her home was not as grand as the rooms that she had acquired at Castle Camelot, but the cottage was comfortable and it suited her needs perfectly.
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