The Gentle Queen walks with grace and restraint, putting one foot ahead of each other as if she doesn’t know how else to move but with purpose, control held tightly in her hand and never, ever, losing grip; barefoot and laughing her sister dances on the forest floor, dances with reckless abandon until the sky is gone and her heart is full and, breathless and fumbling, she falls to the ground.

Susan loves her sister, but she doesn’t understand her, doesn’t understand how she can leap before she looks while Susan is always, always wavering at the cliffside, but loving means letting go, so Susan watches as Lucy spins further and further away, and resolves to always be there when she comes home.

Years later Lucy watches her sister pull away, lipstick on her lips and invitations in her hand, and she knows it is her turn to wait.