Sometimes her sleep was leaden and dreamless, and she woke from it more tired than when she had closed her eyes. Yet those were the best times, for when she dreamed, she dreamed of Father. Waking or sleeping, she saw him, saw the gold cloaks fling him down, saw Sir Ilyn striding forward, unsheathing Ice from the scabbard on his back, saw the moment... the moment when... she had wanted to look away, she had wanted to, her legs had gone out from under her and she had fallen to her knees, yet somehow she could not turn her head, and all the people were screaming and shouting, and her prince had smiled at her, he'd smiled and she'd felt safe, but only for a heartbeat, until he said those words, and her father's legs... that was what she remembered, his legs, the way they'd jerked when Sir Ilyn... when the sword...
有时候她的睡眠沉重如铅，整夜无梦，等醒来精疲力竭，甚至较合眼时更累。但那还算好的，因为她若是做梦，必定与父亲有关。或睡或醒，她眼中所见都只有他被金袍卫士按倒在地的景象，伊林爵士大跨步向他走去，一边从背上的剑鞘里抽出“寒冰”，然后……然后……当时她只想把头转开，她真的好想把头转开，但她的双脚早已绵软无力，于是她跪倒在地。而不知怎地，她就是无法别过头去。四周的人大吼大叫，她的白马王子刚才不是对她露出微笑么？他真的笑了，她以为一切都没事了，但只有一瞬间，接着他便说了那句话。父亲的脚……她只记得他的双脚猛烈抽搐了一下……当伊林爵士……当他的剑……
Perhaps I will die too, she told herself, and the thought did not seem so terrible to her. If she flung herself from the window, she could put an end to her suffering, and in the years to come the singers would write songs of her grief. Her body would lie on the stones below, broken and innocent, shaming all those who had betrayed her.
我也死了算了，她对自己说，她发现这个念头一点也不可怕。假如她从窗户纵身跳下，便可结束一切苦难，多年以后，吟游诗人会歌颂她的悲伤。她将支离破碎地倒在塔下的石板上，纯洁无瑕，令所有背叛她的人均感羞愧。