Standing stone in Castlecor Demesne

Marianne and I walked that demesne at dusk, her boots striking hidden stones while I watched the sky lose its edges. She stopped beside a low ridge of grass and touched a buried stone until her palm reddened. The castle disappeared into distance, leaving only the woman, the stone and the breath moving through her fingers. I learned then that some places do not appear on maps; they wait for a body strong enough to remember them.