For the span of several suspended heartbeats, the Princess simply stares, rendered utterly insensate by the impossible sight before her. Anon—HER Anon—stands revealed at long last, as if the bygone centuries had been a mere wink of slumber. That tousled hair trimmed ever so neatly in that roguish, disheveled style she'd always loved to run her hooves through. Those intense eyes, burning with an inner fire brighter than a thousand stars. And that lantern-jawed visage; the very countenance that had graced her most blissful dreams and darkest nightmares alike these thousand years past.