“No, Morgana,” says Arthur, studiously glaring at his fingernails. “What do you find infuriating?”
“Men,” she declares, with all the stately aplomb that she can muster. “They’re horrible and miserable and did I mention infuriating?”
“No,” says Arthur. “Only three or four million times.”
Curled with her knees under her chin, Morgana pauses for a moment to reflect on this statement of fact. “That doesn’t make it untrue,” she finally concludes, and silence settles over them in the darkness of the hut.