There was something about his words -- the way he spoke them -- that caught her off guard, and even though Myrcella knew that it was impossible for him to be speaking of her, they stirred feelings inside her that she thought she had buried long ago. Many times in the past she had wished it had been her who was picked to marry into the Stark family -- how much pain it would have saved everyone if she had -- but the princess had always accepted the path chosen for her, even if it made her sad that Robb would not be apart of it. Looking up at him with parted lips, Myrcella could not ignore the butterflies in her stomach anymore than she could forget the feeling of her first, unrequited love.
Myrcella had dreamt about him, and many others, the night after her mother had been executed for her role in the war, but she had passed it off as something that was comforting and nothing more, because it seemed so unlikely that it could ever occur. In that dream she had been no older than twelve, and had walked alongside Robb and Grey Wind underneath a starlit sky, sharing a quiet moment together as they spoke of those they missed from their world, and of the things they wished they could accomplish in their lives. It had been a candid moment for him to drop his guard like that, especially with her, but when she awoke Myrcella had taken it as a sign that they should persevere and be strong; that while there were those who could no longer be with her, she was supported by their memory. Strangely enough, it had eased the sadness she felt now that Cersei was gone, and looking past the way her heart felt that it was breaking by seeing Robb once more, it had helped her grow in terms of her other relationships.
Taking in a deep breath, Mycella steadied her nerves before she lifted her delicate fingers to the sun-shaped clasp at her neck, carefully unpinning it and letting the golden cloak fall from her shoulders onto the bed. Lifting her eyes to him, Myrcella smiled, though she let her fingers linger on the side of her damaged face before falling away and resting her hands in her lap. "I could never forget you, my lord. How could I?" Her brow furrowed slightly, and she stared down at her hands as she turned her palms upwards, curling her fingers. "I feel as though I have known you all this time, and yet..." Biting her lip, Myrcella searched desperately for the words she wanted to tell him, shaking her head as they came suddenly. "I do not know how it could be possible. We were only children, the last time we met, and yet I cannot begin to describe my happiness at seeing you..." Short and tiny, even for her age, Myrcella seemed dwarfed by both his silhouette and the bed, and felt even smaller at the moment as she found herself confessing things that were improper for a lady of her status. "I do not understand it, how I am able to speak with you now, but I do remember you."