He'd like to think she left the world with a smile.
Of course, things don't always go as he'd like. She hadn't been smiling as he stood there, thrashing against his own limbs, begging his arms not to pull the sword down for that final slice.
And she hadn't been smiling when he backed away, and lost the chance to save her life.
Mile after mile, he rides further into the desert. Out here, his skeleton, ridden with geostigma, will be bleached pure white by the sun.
But the stain of his sins will always be etched into his bones.
