[At his words, the princess stills for a moment. The haze shifts. She wonders things she'd never wondered before. In storybooks, the princesses and their princes always seem to love each other so quickly, so easily, but even at her most romantic she's never really believed in that. It takes time. Trust. Faith. Pain and pleasure. Perseverance.
And yet...]
Then I shall endeavour to make that so until my last breath fades from my lungs.
[There's still a role she has to play, though, and she's so well-accustomed to falling into whichever step fate lurches her towards that she carries on. Even if her heart grows more expansive and she feels the man before her stepping into his rightful place therein.
Up ahead Torgal barks, pacing between the archways. One leads down towards a beach; the other the ruins of a palace with still-standing towers rising high into the sky. There's only one person who knows which route to take, and the princess turns to face him once more.]
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And yet...]
Then I shall endeavour to make that so until my last breath fades from my lungs.
[There's still a role she has to play, though, and she's so well-accustomed to falling into whichever step fate lurches her towards that she carries on. Even if her heart grows more expansive and she feels the man before her stepping into his rightful place therein.
Up ahead Torgal barks, pacing between the archways. One leads down towards a beach; the other the ruins of a palace with still-standing towers rising high into the sky. There's only one person who knows which route to take, and the princess turns to face him once more.]
Where now, Sir Clive?