I didn’t know what to say. My mind went numb; I melted
onto my bed, and cried.
This morning, four months after receiving my mother’s letter,
I was home. I got up at six to walk my brother Zen to the
herbalist plantation, he reminds me of my father every time I
see him. Afterwards, I headed down to the ceremony hall,
where even the walls were alive from the energy being put
into my coronation. Then I saw my mum, who had relaxed
into an armchair, watching the efforts.
“Good morning,” I laughed, partially sneaking up on her.
“Oh goodness, Shu. I didn’t see you there!” She smiled.
It was the smile, the one that I hadn’t seen for years, that
gleamed again, that melted my heart.
“Happy 16th birthday, my dear!” She whispered, and then
swiftly headed off. Her pride was palpable.
Watching the preparations, smelling the smells wafting
in from the kitchen, hearing the cheery laughter of the
guards, my nerves danced on my tongue. This day will be
a memory I will never forget, that I will cling onto, more than
anything. The one I will feed off, giving me strength in times
of pain. And as I become king, I hope that I will craft many,
many more like this.