It was a long dream. The curse upon her, the ideal she offered up, and the remaining end, must have been quite heavy. No matter how long she slept, she did not awaken once. Not moving, not refusing, not wishing, while calmly taking deep breaths, she slept through that long dream.
The duty of the king has not ended. In order to fulfill that oath, the king could not return to the time before the sword, even in death. Time passed, the country prospered, and the people changed. Even if there was no longer anyone who desired a noble king, that oath remained. ...After all. In order to make it so, she had been entrusted with many lives.
---However. However, the dream she caught glimpses of was a sad one. She saw flashes of scenery from the depths of sleep. She wanted at least the voice of her heart to reach the lonely travels of the man who was now so very far away. He may have stowed away his humanity and become a machine that merely repeated the same thing, and his pain may not have been noticed by anyone.
'---But I was there, and I know his strength.'
Even so, she held an eternal promise. If the past was unchangeable, then it truly was eternal. The king was eternally bound by her past oath and resolution. She herself was the one who would least forgive the act of returning to the way she was before pulling out the sword.
...But she wanted to meet him.
Even if she slept for eternity,
She wanted him to hear her voice.