[ A little princess. Her tale would be the envy of any bard and storyteller — a perfect tragedy borne upon the tides of changing fortunes. The kind of story every child wants to hear, the kind of story every child thinks they would adore to experience. But the reality of such things is, inevitably, much crueler than the tales make them out to be. ]

I think my mother and father wanted the same for me, [ he hums, the words delivered lightly enough that one might think he'd willingly share this with anyone else, too. ] To be married, that is. To live a respectable life. Well, I assume they did. I can't quite remember anymore.

[ He pauses, rising to the balls of his feet as he throws one end of a blanket over the posts of the bed. ]

If it was what they wanted, I didn't heed it, anyway.

[ He would have recalled, he thinks, if he'd left a husband or wife behind. ]

—Were you betrothed?