He was gobsmacked at my words that the room devolved into silence. My eyes started to drift to Excalibur and Marie-Claire’s words echoed in my mind. How uncomfortable a warrior without her weapon looked; how I felt. My hands becoming clammy as they started to nervously pick at my robes. A thread would come loose and I would pull it more as a way to keep my hands busy. Once I let go, the thread recoiled back into the robes and repaired itself. Becoming seamless again. 