Lancelot neatly picked the scurrying child up and turned cool eyes towards Bors. "Careful how you speak of my offspring." Bors rolled his eyes. "Oh, go on wit'ya. Anyone with eyes can see he's got my bloody chin." Lancelot turned the child's face up to the light. "Y'know, I rather think he's got his mother's chin. But the eyes? Definitely mine." "Yeah?" Bors caught himself looking before he remembered himself. "Bastard." The child frowned as Lancelot smiled. "I think he means me this time." The child's giggles followed Bors long after he stomped off.
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