The Sentinels if tomorrow you won't be mine

Deirdre comes quickly and the ache in her heart lessens slightly. It was here and now that they would do this, and the stress of putting it off was no longer there. "Deirdre," she says softly, moving to nose the girl softly. Her sudden ramble of apologizes catches her off guard, and she freezes where she stands as she listens-- her white gaze moving to Constantine only once. Her look was filled with pity and grief, for she sometimes did forget the other end of the spectrum. Deirdre was still a child... naive and innocent and filled with hope-- but also longed for attention and approval from those she loved-- from herself, even. She had forgotten that.

"Never," she agrees, echoing Constantine. Confused and jealous, certainly, but never truly cross. With a sweeping motion, the pale queen moves to embrace the girl warmly, hoping to calm her nerves. Her eyes look once for Constantine, grabbing his gaze best she could. This would be harder than she thought... or maybe just as hard as she thought. She still prayed for the best. 

"We did not call you to scold you... but to talk to you," she says, moving back a step from the pale sylph, closer to Constantine.