“Arthur gave you this castle?” he looks at the structure through a slightly shifted lens, listening to her next statements about such a gift not being pragmatic because she was not one to stay in one place at the time. “I suppose that might have been the purpose of the gift, so that he might know where to find you, even if it was as simple as his mind’s eye. If he provides this place for you, he can imagine you in this place.”

He walks through the corridor with her, deeper into her keep, his hand warm on her the silk bare skin of her wrist. No other beings feel present in her home, outside of animals and such. He can feel them though, aware of him, aware of her. Ties across the living. “I am in your home Morgana, I am at your whim,” he smiles in response to her question.