Day 272,

A figure stands in an ancient ruin, bare feet on crumbling stone.  Her gown far too torn, her hands much too red.  She takes a breath to centre herself and steps outside.  The sun is rising.  The warmth is pleasant.  She shades her eyes and spots riders approaching.  She will be gone before they arrive.

She turns her gaze elsewhere on the horizon.  She begins to walk.  She cares more for the journey than the destination.

As she lowers her hand, she lightly rests it on the pommel sticking up from the scabbard at her side.  She spares one last glance for the riders in the distance.

The princess grins.

I’ll miss them, but I won’t be gone forever.

…

The above is an alternate ending I wrote to the story.  I felt the other one would resonate better with the villagers (and maybe set off fewer red flags for Theo), but it would be remiss of me if I didn’t have this version recorded somewhere.

Lunch with Vernon again tomorrow.  Hoping to do a practice run of the telling with him.  Well, not over lunch, but propose the idea during lunch and then meet back up later in the evening.