He shifts so that they are able to look at one another, one hand still at her cheek. His voice is low and now he's at last meeting her gaze directly. "Thou'rt so good to me. I love thee so."

Lancelot stops himself from saying anything else, lest he apologize for taking time to himself, or any other thing. His gaze and his smile are warm -- he wants her to know how she's helped not just this latest trick of the mansion, but everything. All of him.