She lets herself be drawn, fragile in a way she's tried so hard not to be, shuddering with the force it takes to try to get her tears under control. "I'm sorry, say sorry, I do," she whispers, helpless, her face turned into his shoulder and her breath warm. Susan lets herself cling to his shirt-front, just for a moment, and holds on tight, trying to tell herself this is real, not the other.

"I didn't want - I'd not meant - I'm sorry, Caspian, I'm so sorry--"