Nimue was not entirely sure how she felt about Mordred's reactions to what had happened. Nimue didn't feel remorseful, per se. She had acted in self-defense. But the expression on Mordred's face was troubling. There was not time to deal with moral issues now, though.
As they ran from Arthur, she kept a grip on Mordred's hand, both to keep him with her and to prevent him from getting any ideas about casting spells that might hurt Merlin or Arthur. She tried to ignore the pain in her arm and the throbbing headache she was developing, focusing on running. Luckily they had a head start, since the prince had been surprised. He would soon catch up, though. Nimue couldn't outrun a knight for long on the best of days, and certainly not in this condition.
She could hear Merlin yelling at Arthur to stop. She was glad to hear it, but didn't want Merlin to reveal anything he would regret later. She dove behind some bushes, her arms wrapped around Mordred. Squeezing her eyes shut, she teleported the two of them back to her home. They were now in a rather non-descript living room.