She sleeps a magical slumber meant to profit a rival. She had never been one for caution, and one so beautiful would have enemies regardless. I shouldn't have killed the sorcerer: had he lived, perhaps in the fullness of time he could have been convinced to reverse the spell. Or bribed to do it, for that matter.
So here in her bedroom threshold I stand, like a statue, to guard her. I don't know when she'll wake, or if. But I made a promise to her, long ago, and the life of a knight must be cheaper than his word.