Susan laughs, indulgent and giddy, and flings her arms around his neck. There were months where she thought feeling like this might be impossible. As recently as Dark, she worried that letting herself admit to enjoying herself might result in some sort of cosmic punishment for her daring. But she feels more confident of her position now. There are opportunities to indulge and opportunities to organize, and even the regular madness this place throws at everyone seems surmountable. Though the second day of changes was exhausting, it was also, ultimately, rather fun.

She mightn't feel this way forever. She mightn't even feel this way terribly long. But that she feels this way at all seems rather like a miracle - only better, because she's won it with her own efforts and not through some boon granted her by a judgemental lion.

And a cherry on top of all of this, of course, is Lancelot. She's pleased that he's pleased. She likes that she knows that she loves him. She tries to capture all of these racing interconnected thoughts, and convey them to him with the ferocity of her embrace.