( Odds are high that even were she to know her way around this city, she would not recognize the police offhand as the 'city guard.' Though the brightly-clad people she now thinks of as mummers don't know that, and they're apologizing to the woman just as she shoulders her way past them. Myrcella turns her head, curious to see who has been kind enough to actually offer aid.
—and she is struck dumb, green eyes wide as both the woman the the heroes wander off in opposite directions. She'd seen him much more recently in her memory than before he'd ridden off to fight the Starks. Only it hadn't ended well, and everything she's been forcing herself to ignore simply to hold herself together in public comes rushing back. The stolen necklace, Tristayne, the Sand Snakes. The daring rescue he'd so valiantly mounted for her only for it to come to naught.
I'm glad that you're my father. Her last words. Because she'd died, and it is eerie how much detail of how it had felt as the spark of life had left her.
If he remembers, he gives no outward sign, either. She does not cry, nor rush forward to embrace him as she so badly wishes to. Instead, her features brighten, warmth reaching her eyes as she moves forward to take his good hand between her own. of course she recognizes him. She would know his face anywhere. )
Father.
( Her voice is pitched low, gentle now in the relative silence the mummers have left for them. To live again is overwhelming unto itself, but as before, she feels safe with him. Enough so to verbally confirm that she knows. The grip of her hands is still gentle, but they squeeze his just a little. )
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—and she is struck dumb, green eyes wide as both the woman the the heroes wander off in opposite directions. She'd seen him much more recently in her memory than before he'd ridden off to fight the Starks. Only it hadn't ended well, and everything she's been forcing herself to ignore simply to hold herself together in public comes rushing back. The stolen necklace, Tristayne, the Sand Snakes. The daring rescue he'd so valiantly mounted for her only for it to come to naught.
I'm glad that you're my father. Her last words. Because she'd died, and it is eerie how much detail of how it had felt as the spark of life had left her.
If he remembers, he gives no outward sign, either. She does not cry, nor rush forward to embrace him as she so badly wishes to. Instead, her features brighten, warmth reaching her eyes as she moves forward to take his good hand between her own. of course she recognizes him. She would know his face anywhere. )
Father.
( Her voice is pitched low, gentle now in the relative silence the mummers have left for them. To live again is overwhelming unto itself, but as before, she feels safe with him. Enough so to verbally confirm that she knows. The grip of her hands is still gentle, but they squeeze his just a little. )