In dreams, she is still in Cair Paravel, golden crown on her head and velvet dress brushing against marble floor, candles shining, twinkling like starlight all around her.

In dreams, her brothers and sister twirl her around on the dance floor and they weave between fauns and nymphs, as her parents watch from the marble dais.

In dreams, there is no breath of lion at her neck to jolt her awake to nubby linen sheets and the high-pitched horn of a distant train.