然后王后就伤心地哭了。不是为了那个残酷而贪婪的人,他到处战争、杀戮和野蛮。但对于那个莫名其妙变成了那个男人的男孩,那个用温柔的手抚慰她童年伤痛的男孩,那个在生命的尽头用惊恐的声音向她呼喊的男孩,仿佛他想知道为什么自己迷失在自己的内心,仿佛他意识到已经太晚了,无法再次逃脱。
(And then the queen wept with all her heart. Not for the cruel and greedy man who had warred and killed and savaged everywhere he could. But for the boy who had somehow turned into that man, the boy whose gentle hand had comforted her childhood hurts, the boy whose frightened voice had cried out to her at the end of his life, as if he wondered why he had gotten lost inside himself, as if he realized that it was too, too late to get out again.)