When she opened her eyes again, the silence stretched thin and dangerous.
"You know what?" Morwenna said at last, voice flat and cold. "You can play your little doll game. I don't care. I don't have time for your adder nonsense."
She turned on her heel, skirts sweeping the floor as she moved toward the hallway. For a heartbeat Tamsin relaxed—shoulders dropping, breath easing. Then Morwenna's voice drifted back, low and deliberate, echoing off the stone walls.
"But that doesn't mean I will forget. I will come back and handle you myself."
The words lingered in the air long after she disappeared around the corner, her slow, measured footsteps fading into the distance. Tamsin flinched again at the final threat, caught off guard once more, but she held herself together. We stood there in the sudden quiet, the hallway feeling colder and larger than before.
After that, we turned back toward my parents' room—I'd completely forgotten we'd left them in the middle of their private moment. But on the way, I spotted Father hurrying down the corridor in the opposite direction, clearly bound for wherever Morwenna had summoned him. That witch demanded his presence for nearly every task, no matter how trivial.
"I will be right back—I have work to do. You know your grandmother…"
His voice came out awkward and rushed as he passed us, already half-turned. I nodded and stepped aside to let him go, though disappointment twisted inside me.
Father, you can't leave your wife alone when she's finally opening up. This was the first time in ages she'd moved toward him like that—vulnerable, willing. He'd just missed the best chance he'd had in years. I braced myself for Mother to slip back into her usual guarded, dictatorial mood.
But as we drew closer to the room, a soft humming drifted out—Mother Elowen's voice, light and melodic, singing under her breath.
I leaned in through the doorway and saw her clearly: she was folding the garments I'd left scattered everywhere, stacking them neatly beside the cupboard with careful, almost tender movements. The chaos we'd made had become order under her hands.
"You look happy…" I said, stepping inside with a teasing smile. "Did Father do something?"
She let out a small, happy giggle—rare and bright—and moved toward me with slow, elegant steps, the smile never fading from her lips.
That smile was a trap. I should have seen it coming, but I didn't.
"You know…" Mother Elowen raised her hand and pinched my ear—hard. "Ahah—no…!"
"You are growing up, but your teasing is getting a little out of hand."
Before I could react, she tightened the pinch. A sharp, stinging pain shot through my ear—not truly hurtful, just enough to make me yelp and grab at her wrist in desperate protest.
"Nooo… Mother, I'm sorry!"
She released me at last. I rubbed the throbbing spot with a dramatic pout, half-relieved, half-laughing. Then she pulled me into a tight, warm hug. Her soft arms wrapped around me completely, enveloping me in familiar safety. Tamsin stepped back quietly, giving us space.
What had Father done to her? She was glowing—truly happy in a way I hadn't seen in ages. Maybe some whispered poetry, or a rare, unguarded compliment. Whatever it was, she hadn't let him go any further; I could tell. I wrapped my arms around her in return, burying my face against her shoulder. She smelled so comforting—like lavender soap, old books, and home. I closed my eyes for a moment, breathing her in.
"You really have grown," Mother Elowen murmured, still holding the hug tight, voice soft against my hair. "And you know how to turn your father into a doll. You have to teach me the tricks, I guess."
"You are already commanding in a comforting way," I said, voice dripping with teasing mischief. "You just have to wear something seductive~ tonight."
I couldn't resist. A perfect opportunity like this was too good to waste—even if it meant I'd suffer the consequences. Mother Elowen released me from the hug just enough to reach up and pinch my ear again—tight and hard.
"Ahhhhh!"
The pain flared sharp and bright, but it was worth it. Every second of her flustered reaction made it worthwhile.
"You need to watch your tongue, young lady."
She maintained her smile the whole time—soft, unwavering, not truly annoyed. It was her gentle way of telling me to stop, yet beneath the warmth there was steel. Sometimes I thought she could be scarier than Morwenna when she wanted to be.
After a few more rounds of teasing—light pinches, mock scolds, shared giggles—we turned our attention to the wardrobe. Tamsin and I helped Mother Elowen search for something striking to wear to the party. I was stunned by how many combinations she could pull off.
Her fashion sense was mature, artistic, effortless. Every piece of clothing looked as though it had been created specifically for her—elegant lines, thoughtful textures, colors that seemed to glow against her skin. She moved through the garments with quiet confidence, draping a shawl here, adjusting a neckline there, transforming each option into something regal yet intimate. Watching her was like witnessing quiet magic.
Tamsin and I were utterly overwhelmed, and Mother Elowen was no less swept up in it. Her happiness had skyrocketed—radiant, almost giddy in a way I hadn't seen in years. Hours slipped away in a blur of laughter, fabric rustling, mirrors reflecting endless possibilities. Then, suddenly, an idea sparked behind her eyes. She paused mid-motion, hand hovering over a half-folded shawl, expression shifting from delight to secret mischief.
When we asked what it was, she only smiled wider and shook her head. "I have something in mind," she said simply, refusing to elaborate.
Before we could press her further, she shooed us out—literally ushering us toward the door with gentle but firm hands on our shoulders. "Wait," she instructed. "You'll see my outfit on the party day. No peeking."
So frustrating. I knew she was bursting with enthusiasm, though, and that made the suspense almost bearable. Almost. We'd have to wait and see what surprise she had brewing.
For now, Tamsin and I decided to head back to my room. It was already night; the mansion had quieted, lamps dimmed to soft golden pools along the corridors. I wasn't about to let Tamsin walk home alone in the dark, and truthfully, I wanted company. Someone to annoy when the period cramps inevitably struck at midnight, turning me into a miserable, complaining mess. She didn't protest—only gave a small, tired smile and followed me without a word.
We slipped into my room, the door clicking shut behind us like the end of a long, wonderful day.