The castle bustled with noise as many servants and many hands prepared the city for a big day. Outside the royal kitchen, a bevy of workers walked in and out all evening, carting this and carting that. Smells of many delicacies wafted through the halls, causing many a stomach to rumble and mouths to water.

In the grand hall, others hung from rafters or stood on rungs of ladders, putting up decorations. In the gardens, some trimmed hedges and picked off weed, yet others cleaned out stables and the royal barns and hosed down the cobalt courtyards.

Speaking of the courtyard outside, a cacophony of excited chatter as villagers put up stalls and games for the fair after the ceremony, a Chymer tradition, filled it. Somewhere in the apartments surrounding the square, music floated out as musicians tuned their instruments and tried out melodious notes.

Beyond the keep, the sun was setting for the night at a leisurely pace, splashing its rich hues across the purple sky. The winter chills had ended, and the days had warmed. Hot air occasionally blew in from the east, bringing with it the scent of the orchards mixed in with the seas over the hills.

Amer stood at his window, staring down at the merry crowd, at the colourful tapestry of their tents. There was laughter down there, joy, but he was not ready for this. "I still think we are being hasty," he said, not looking to see if his mother was still in his room. He hadn't heard her leave. "Papa could still wake–"

"It's been months, Amer. Your Papa may never..." He heard Mama shuffle uncomfortably on the chair she'd pulled up next to the desk earlier.

"Even if Papa came around, he would not take the throne, brother. He gave his word at the Council Rock," Ursa said resolutely. Coldly. She'd become a great council to him in the past few months, but Amer still hated the way her voice sounded like the finality of steel on a polished sword. Sharp. Hurtful. Deadly. "You are the next king, whether you like it, and Papa was a man of his words. As you should be."

"Don't say was, Ursa!" Amer bit his lip till it hurt. After a moment, he said, "I know nothing of how to be a king." He finally turned and meet the women's gaze. "I don't trust that I can do this as well as he; steward this land and its people towards a new age and prosperity. I need his council."

"Well, you're going to have to do without it." Ursa stood taller, her shoulders squarer. Even her jawline seemed to have hardened over the months that Amer hardly recognised her as the same Ursa who had birthed babes and looked after injured animals, nursing them to life ever so gently.

"You have Uncle Rea, Ursa, Klune Ord, Lord Grisdon, even Mama and I," Mama stood from her chair and approached him. She'd lost a lot of her strength in the months since Papa fell. Her joy was gone. Even her once-honey-coloured eyes had turned darker, like a stormy night. She rarely smiled these days unless she was with Mawsie, and she sobbed whenever she brought herself to visit Papa's chambers, which was rarely. Amer had noticed. He'd noticed it all. How she barely touched her food or refused to conjure even the simplest weaves. How she'd punish herself with little things: walk till her feet bleed, stay up till her eyes were red. He wished he could help her break free, but he didn't know how to convince her she was not at fault. Yet every day that Mama stood in the temple, silent, her shoulder drooping like an old woman's rather than a once-fearsome Commander, he knew. He knew she blamed herself for Papa laying upon a bed since that day, unresponsive. The waters had healed his wounds so that only shiny white scars remained, but it seemed they hadn't healed the shredded soul beneath.

Mama reached up to caress his cheek and Amer tried not to shrink away from her touch. She needed to be reminded of their love, not their admonishments. She needed their permission to love them. It was painful for him to watch her trying to smile up at him. "You were born to lead, my darling. You were meant for this. Have faith that you Papa knew what he was doing when he declared you their next king, for he was not only merciful–" her voice hitched in her throat and tears glimmered in her eyes. "He was also wise. Sometimes, too wise. You must trust him... That he knew what he was doing..."

Mama stopped talking then, unable to hold back her sobs. "I'm sorry. Ursa, please, help him see reason..." Then she fled the room.

Amer had a feeling that she meant something else, that Papa knew what he was doing, and that old, perpetual weight that had sat upon his heart since the night pressed his heart further down. "We have lost them both, haven't we, sister?"

For once, when he turned to Ursa, he could see her facade break and her eyes moist. "She comes to life when she's with Maw. At least she has that."

Amer nodded, trying to regain his composure. "Are things ready?"

"Almost."

"What has become of us?"

Ursa shrugged. "We're not children anymore?"

"Do you ever miss what we had before?"

"Every day."

Amer wiped the tears from his eyes, embarrassed that he hadn't been able to maintain his composure, only to see Ursa do the same. Then, to his utter surprise, she flung herself into his arms and cried. Truly cried, for the first time since that night.

"It'll be okay." Amer tightly held her. "It will all be okay..."

He felt Ursa nod against his neck. "I wish we could take her pain away for just a day, you know? Just one day so she can celebrate with you. You only become king once in your life and it's a big day for you..."

Amer let his tears fall freely. "It will all be okay..."

***

Worried he'd miss out, Mawsie woke early the next day, too excited to continue sleeping, not because Attin had squirmed, no. He was a big boy now and had his own bed in their room. But most of all, it was Amer's coronation day, and he wondered how the festivities would go, and whether he too would have his own big day someday.

So, now, he peered over the covers at Attin, purring somewhere beneath his own covers. He waited a bit, and when Attin didn't look like he was about to throw his covers and cry, 'Gotcha!', he slipped from his bed and quietly left the room.

Even the corridors were quiet, to his surprise. "Where is everybody?" he mumbled, tiptoeing towards Mama's room. If someone caught him headed that way, they'd stop him, as usual, saying, 'Don't disturb your mama, little one.' But he was on a mission. He needed to get to Mama before the whole castle woke up and the festivities began, because all night, only one thing had been playing in his mind, since he'd heard Ursa wish someone would take Mama's pain away, even just for a day. And it was a brilliant idea he had.

He skipped down the stairs to Mama's floor. Both Mama and Granny lived on the second floor, while all the children slept on the third floor and the servants on the first and the fifth floor. Ursa stayed somewhere on Mama's floor, though she hardly allowed him entry into her room. 'It's not for children,' she'd say, as if she were any bigger than he was!

When he landed on the floor below, he peered around the stairs and into the corridor. "Empty!" He marched on further with glee, past one door, then Granny's door, then past another, towards Mama's at the other end.

"And where do you think you are going, little one?"

The question brought him to a halt.

Mawsie turned around, biting down on his tongue. "Sorry, Granny. Did I wake you?"

"You can only wake someone who slept."

Mawsie chewed his lips and headed back to the stairs. "Fine, I'll go back to bed."

"Why?"

"What?" He paused.

"You have a mission to complete, don't you?" Granny winked.

Mawsie beamed and nodded. "Yes. And I hope it works as it did with that bird we found the other week."

"I hope you will never change, Mawsie." Granny tussled his hair and chuckled. "Now, off you go."

"Are you serious? You will not tell me off for disturbing Mama?"

Granny shrugged, turning back to her door. "I don't know what you're talking about. I'm just an old woman who is sleepwalking. Go on. Get with you before you wake me up."

Mawsie stood in the corridor, watching Granny slip into her room and close her door with another wink.

As soon as her door clicked shut, he sprinted down the corridor and slipped into Mama's room. "Mama? I can't sleep... may I stay with you?"

"Neither can I, my darling. Come, maybe we just need company."

***

"Amer?" Mama popped her head in. "Might I come in?"

"Of course, mother. We are almost done, I think." Amer turned from the mirror, trying not to disrupt the courtiers, helping him fit into his ceremonial dress.

"Yes, sire. You're ready," one courtier, by the name of Garmond, smiled up at him. If Amer wasn't about to be anointed, he would have liked to be friends with Garmond. The boy had an amiable smile that made dreary days bright, and his outlook on life was far more positive than Amer could manage.

"Would you mind giving us the room?" Mama asked, and his attendants all bowed out of the room.

Amer braced himself for another emotional moment, or perhaps a moment where he could try to find some joy on her face, joy for him, but he did not expect the radiant smile she threw him. Her eyes were honeyed once more and her cheeks had a rosy tinge. Her smile was wide, her eyes sparkling, and her touch didn't make him want to recoil.

"Mama?"

She smiled again like she used to do back on Earth. "I've missed you!"

"And I, you!" Amer swore his smile reached one ear to the next, but he didn't care. "How? I don't understand... Are you okay?"

She laughed, her laughter rich and smooth like Ado in winter, or innocent giggles of babes. "I am fine. I am better than fine. My son is about to be anointed King of Chymer and Anteri. How could I not be fine?"

"But... you were so... you were so–" he couldn't bring himself to say the word melancholy for fear he'd ruin her cheerful mood.

Instead, he hugged her, pouring out all the love he'd been bottling up for the past few months, too afraid to touch her should she crumble into a thousand broken pieces. "I'm so happy you're here right now."

"I wouldn't miss it for the world." She squeezed him back before pushing him away from her. "Let me get a look at you, my Prince."

Amer stood back to allow his mother to take him in, in his ceremonial dress.

She smiled again. "You remind me so much of your father right now."

Amer's heart skipped a beat. He knew what was coming, for every time she mentioned father, she broke down into sobs. Any moment now...

She shook her head, a bright warm smile still lighting up her face. "He'd be so proud of you. So incredibly proud."

Amer eyed his mother. Where were her tears? Why was she still smiling and not crying? "Mama?"

"Ah, stunning." She gushed in glee and reached into her pocket instead. "I have something for you. It was your father's. He always planned to give it to you at your coronation."

She placed a signet ring in his hand. "From today, it is yours, this land, this throne, and everything that comes with it. Promise to serve it all your life, putting it before yourself and your family. Do you promise to do such a thing, Amer, son of Ovek?"

Amer looked up at Mama, who was beaming. He cared not where her joy stemmed from, he only cared she was happy this day of all days. It was already hard to do this without his father's support. He'd dreaded going ahead with it without his mother's blessing.

"I promise, Ma."

"Then, let us not waste a moment." She pulled his head to her and placed a kiss on his forehead. "For all the times I can no longer kiss you like this. I am so proud of the man you have become. So proud." She held out her hand for him to take. "Shall we?"

He nodded, glad to have Mama by his side as he left the room for the last time as a prince.

***

"Come on, hurry up. Hurry up!" Vanylla nudged Mawsie ahead, rushing him into the front pew where their seats were. "Granny will kill us if she arrives and we are yet to be seated."

"Where is Granny?" Mawsie turned. "I need to see Granny."

Vanylla tsked. "And why do you need to see Granny? We are here to see Amer."

"None of your business–" Mawsie brushed her off quickly when he noted Granny hobbling up the aisle. He ran for her, past Vanylla and Nessa, even rushing past Ursa, who eyed him like he was a naughty child. "Granny!"

Granny grabbed his hand, smiling down at him. "Well, did it work?"

Mawsie did a happy wiggle. "Uh-uh, it worked." He leaned up to her ears and was glad when Granny leaned down towards him to help him out and whispered his marvelous feat.

When Granny stood back up, her smile told him all — that she was incredibly proud of him. "That is wonderful news, Mawsie! Now go on, let's get to our seats and have some fun."

Mawsie nodded and ran back to his seat, stepping on Nessa's and Vanylla's feet.

"Owe, watch it!" they both screamed.

But Mawsie was a happy little boy who didn't care if his sisters screamed at him. What he cared about was Mama was happy, and he'd done it!

***

Ursa watched Mawsie take his seat in the front pew between Vanylla and Attin, who Ursa had already threatened with Infirmary duty for a month under Madam Circe — the nurse who virtually tied him to a cot after the disappearing act — if he didn't act appropriately today. Guess it was the only thing that explained why he sat, ready and behaving this morning.

Behind them, Uncle Rea and Aunt Orsana sat. Orsana looked rather glum, despite the occasion. It probably wasn't easy for her to watch Amer's coronation when her brother was still in the palace, bedbound.

Ursa watched them carefully for a moment before she noticed Granny hobbling to join the children in the front pew. She stepped up beside Granny, asking, "What was that about? He's been all jumpy all morning. What did he say?"

"What did who say?" Granny grinned at her.

Ursa hated it when Granny did that. "You know what I mean. What was Mawsie whispering?" She turned to watch her baby brother still bouncing on his seat, peering down at the aisle, excited for the ceremony to begin. "He better not be up to any mischief today, Granny. This is Amer's day, and he's already been suffering so much for it."

"Oh, hush, you dark one. Mawsie means no harm. He's just having some fun."

"His and Attin's description of fun usually get them in trouble." Ursa folded her arms. "Do I need to worry?"

"No. It's just harmless stuff."

Ursa considered Granny a moment, knowing she was withholding something, and that something might cause a disturbance today and she couldn't stand for that. She wouldn't stand for that. "What did Mawsie say to you?"

Granny was shrugging, "Just a bunch–"

"What did he say to you, Granny?"

Granny rolled her eyes and sighed. "Uh, you've become a bossy boo since you came to your weave, you know."

"Granny!"

Heads turned their way, including the children's, and Granny finally gave in. "Well, if you must know, he said" – she leaned in to whisper – "He took her pain away."

Ursa knew she was gawking. "He took whose pain away? How?"

Granny shrugged, her eyebrows dancing. "If you'll excuse me, I'm going to sit. I want to enjoy today, after all." She walked away, calling behind her, "We're all going to enjoy today. I suggest you grab your seat, too. They're heading in."

"What does that mean he took her pain away?" Ursa asked of herself as she scrambled to her seat and turned in time to see the grand doors open and Amer walked in, escorted by Mama, smiling as if she'd never been sad a day in her life. She was radiant!

As the music began and rose in tempo, Mama walked her prince into the temple, between the aisles decorated beautifully with Chymer colours, nodding at dignitaries, family, and village guests. Mama was smiling. Ear to ear.

A strange ache held Ursa's icy heart, and she felt a smile tug at her lips. Mama didn't just look happy. Mama was happy. Deliriously. Utterly. Completely. And so was Amer. The smile on her brother's face was priceless.

'He took her pain away.' Ursa recalled Granny's words. He took her pain away.

Ursa turned to Granny, finally understanding what she meant. Mawsie took Mama's pain away. "But how?" she mouthed.

Granny smiled tearfully, joyfully, mouthing, "He's a silvertongue? A true silvertongue."

A true silvertongue?

If one had asked Ursa to describe how she felt, she would have said she was speechless. The only true silvertongue in history, according to legends, was Maan the Ferryboy. But how? How was her little brother such a powerful mage? A true weaver of words.

Alas, those questions only added to the happiness that day. To see Amer finally claim his throne, to see her mother finally alive. To see her siblings happy and content. She hoped it would remain that way... That they should remain happy.

It was her task to worry.

Later that night, in honour of the old family tradition, Granny ordered them all to meet her in the kitchen after the festivities with, "Leave the people to celebrate their new king. We shall celebrate being a family again."

Celebrations were still going on in the courtyard, but Ursa successfully concluded that business within the keep and secured their quarter for the night before she arrived at the kitchen to join the others. When she did, she saw Granny sitting in a rocking chair. Mama sat in a seat with Mawsie on her lap. Vanylla and Nessa sat on large cushions on the floor. Attin sat there at the servant's table eating a bowl of what looked to be Amaroot cream. Amer was nowhere in sight, but she didn't blame him. He'd had a big night, and he had wanted to spend some time with Papa.

Nessa offered Ursa the third cushion and some tea. Ursa gladly took it, savouring the quiet of the kitchen and the crackle of a fire in the largest hearth she'd ever seen.

"Old times!" Ursa mumbled, trying to break the silence.

"I like when we're all together!" Mawsie piped, licking his fingers clean.

Mama was still smiling. Ursa was glad of that, though she was itching to pull Granny over and ask her if this was permanent, or just temporary, mother's happiness. What did it mean that Mawsie took her pain away? For how long?

"You know what will make it feel like the old time?" Vanylla suddenly piped in. "A story, Granny. Tell us a story."

"Yes! Tell us a story." Mawsie jumped, plonking himself on one of the spare cushions the kitchen maids had fetched for them, unsure if it was okay to leave the royal family to fend for themselves in the kitchen.

"I'd love a story too, Granny," Ursa felt silly asking for it, but today, she could do with a moment of pretending nothing had changed in their lives, that they were all happy and healthy. That Papa would walk in through the door any moment now, shaking snow off his coat. "What was that story you once told, about some princess who saved a prince from a tower where his wicked uncle held him, taking over the boy's kingdom? Or was it an earth fairytale?"

"Oh, that one is a classic." Granny smiled. "You know, once, your grandpapa told me I should archive all my stories, but where's the fun in that? For every time I tell a tale, it changes a little, making it exciting."

"Oh, tell us that one then, Granny. Was the princess brave?" Mawsie jumped up, squealing.

"Oh, very brave, just like our Mawsie!" Granny winked at him and leaned back in her chair and taking a moment before she began, "Once upon a time..."

The kitchen door opened and Granny paused the tale and her rocking.

Amer snuck into the room sheepishly and sat on the floor beside Mama, and Granny resumed her rocking. "I hope I'm not interrupting."

"Not at all, my dear boy." Granny resumed her rocking. "Let me begin again. Once upon a time, in a land not far from here..."

And thus, the Silvertongues were once more under one roof, telling tales well into the night. Their tiny slice of heaven on this mortal plane.

~ THE END ~