Susan, age 20, stared at the handsome young man in front of him. She had met him at a party the week before. She was glad she had applied a fresh coat of lipstick, ruby red, before she had let him in.

" Hello Quinton."

"Hello, Susan."

He bent down and kissed her hand, a slight smile tugging at the corners of Susan's red,red mouth.

"Come into the parlor, there is a lunch awaiting us."

How are you, Susan asked, while taking a sip from her cup of tea."

Very well thank you, you look beautiful today. That is a very pretty dress you are wearing."

"Oh, thank you it cost quite a bit."

Susan led Quentin into the lavish parlor, courtesy of the family money from her deceased parents and her job at Mistress Claire's.

"How is it going at your job."

Oh, it's wonderful. All the pretty silks and sashes."

"I took you for a lover of lavish things when I met you."

"Well, you have to keep up in society."

"Yes, I whole heartedly agree."

"Do you like the sandwiches, Mrs. Berry made them."

"Yes, they are quite savory."

"Tell me Quentin, what is one of your wishes."

"to become the king of England."

"a dream that is achievable."

"Well, I wish to own my own automobile company. I'd need a lot of money to get started though."

"Hmm." Susan felt an inkling of suspicion.

"What is your wish."

"Well, what any girl dreams of. Marry a prince, attend balls, wear pretty dresses."

"Mmm, Susan."

"Yes."

The air in the room had gotten heavy. Susan was uneasy. The tone in Quentin's voice hinted at something to happen.

"Susan, I love you."

Quentin hugged her, and she was reminded of the embraces she'd given a golden lion in dreams. Quentin's hug was nothing compared to the hugs in her dreams. They were warm and sweet. While this one was, cold, emotionless, like Quentin was trying to achieve something other than Susan's affection.

"Quentin, I think you had better leave."

"But, why, Susan, I love you."

"You do not love me, you love my possessions."

"B-bbut."

"Out."

Susan followed him out and slammed the door. She pondered that hug, the lion, from the game she had played with her dead siblings. Susan's heart twinged, and she wondered if it was only make believe. Could such a warm feeling come from something so unreal.

No, it can't. Neither was another hug I received, from a dark haired Telmarine. Aslan, Caspian. I believe again. Aslan. I'm so sorry. Take me now, please. I know Lucy and all the rest are with you. Don't keep me separated from them.

"Aslan, please, I know it's all my fault. Oh, please forgive me. I remember. Your golden fur, your roar, your velvety words and paws. Oh, please, please."

Susan wept with despair, her hands cupped around her face.

"Ms. Pevensie, are you alright?"

"Do I look alright."

Susan ran up the winding staircase, and entered her vast room.

She threw all her jewelry to the floor.

"This is what I lived for too many years!"

Susan landed on her bed, bawling. She stared at the Grandfather clock, and realized that she needed to be at her job in 30 minutes, and it took about twenty to walk. She doused her face in water, and gathered her coat, and set of walking to Mistress Claire's. Susan's heart was still in turmoil, susan tripped on a beer bottle that littered the floor. A spasm went up her leg, and she cried in pain."

"Are you alright Miss.!'

"No, I think my leg is broken."

"Can you move it?"

"No."

"I'll take you to the doctor, then"