“What troubles you my friend,” she imagines the statue asking her after the funeral. This Angel of Death.
“Oh, just a decision looming. Whether to connect to a motherland. Or fatherland. The separation happened a number of years ago.”
“I remember,” states the statue in her head. “Caledonia. But you’s guys have moved your kingdom — or queendom — forward. Caledonia has essentially stayed the same. It would be like connecting to the past. This Winterfell.”
“Rosehaven now,” says Merry Gouldbusk, soon to *be* Queen. And with that the fantasy was over. She was alone again.
Sunklands 