Arthur is happy. Which is all great and everything, but when Arthur is happy, he gets a bit girly. And when I say girly, I mean romantic. And when I say romantic, I mean he has an idea, then sends me off to accomplish it.
Lords above. First a picnic, now it's breakfast in bed. With flowers, no less.
Gwen, bless her, smiled sweetly and thanked me, for of course she knows as well as anyone that Arthur is not the type to pick flowers (or procure a breakfast, for that matter).
Still, Arthur's happy. And that's all that counts.