Lancelot nods, looking down for a moment. He will respect that answer and he won't ask again, though at the moment it makes him feel lost, like there's some part of his memory he can't touch. (In truth, though he won't think of it this way for some time, this is far better. He does not need another list of sins he has yet to commit waiting to bear down on him again, another list of actions to feel responsible and guilty for.)

He resists the urge to take a very long drink and instead says quietly, "I am sorry that I was not the kind of father that would have helped you. I think, perhaps, things might have gone differently, had I known earlier on. I would not have wanted your mother to send you away."