… way to lay the pressure on there, mate. Keiran still hadn't figured out who he was meant to be beyond the random flashes of memories. Most of them were about Lexi – or Lancelot , as she was then – and while they were good memories... not very helpful in the 'piecing together an identity' scheme of things. He was fairly sure none of the versions of the story he'd ever read mentioned Lancelot having a mad passionate affair with one of the other knights. Always seemed a lot more... well, straight, did old Lance. And maybe that was the glorious joke of it all. All the women loved him, would have died for him, but it was men who stole his heart in the end...
“I'm still not following.” His tone was apologetic: Nathan was talking like they knew each other, like he'd understand what he was on about, and he was a good few pages behind the rest of the class. “You're going to have to spell it out in really little words” - a gesture, demonstrating exactly how little the words would have to be - “Like I'm the knight who got hit in the head once to often, or something. Because this isn't making much sense. Everyone died except” - a thumb jerked in Arthur's direction - “except him and then... yeah, I'm lost.”