A/N: Just to let everyone know, parts of this chapter is a bit OC-heavy, as the kids are major players. I do apologize if that's not your thing, but I do respect it.

[Rough] ages are as follows: Johan at 66, Daniel at 49, Clara at 47, Lena at 16, Astra at 14, Sterling at 10, Oriana and Maglina at 8, and Seren at 3

Chapter Twelve: Silver and Gold (I)

Running as fast as her legs could manage, Maglina bounced in and out of the various castle rooms, staying only long enough to check for a single person. Eventually she found her quarry: Sterling, who was nestled away in a corner of the library, comfortably reading a book in the afternoon sun.

"Come on Sterling, let's play," she insisted, tugging on her brother's shirtsleeve. He pulled away shyly, scooting further onto the settee.

"I'm reading," he replied.

"But we're gonna play March and we need a marquis," she pouted.

"I don't like playing marquis—it's Lena that's supposed to do that stuff, not me."

"It's Free Day, come on, play with us please! You always used to before you moved out of the nursery…"

"Maggie, I've only been out for two months…"

"Still!" Maglina wibbled her lower lip in a last-ditch effort to win his favor.

"O-Okay…" he said, defeated. No sooner had Sterling closed the book did his sister pull him off the cushion and drag him through the corridors. After many twists and turns and flights of stairs, they finally came to the small crack in a wall that marked a secret passageway to an even more secret room the three used as their hideout. Oriana was already there waiting, feeding the castle cat Ariel.

"Now we can play!" Maglina announced. Oriana clapped excitedly.

"Good! I made the chairs while you were getting Sterling," she said, pointing over towards where she had set up two seats made of planks of wood and empty barrels. Blankets and cushions topped them, making them look nearly like the play-thrones in the nursery. "Maggie told you we're playing March, right?"

"Uh, yeah," Sterling nodded. He looked at the makeshift chairs and frowned. "Which one is the Doctor's seat and which one's the Companion's?"

"Just pick one," Maglina said. Still clutching his book, Sterling sat down in the rightmost seat, leaving the space to his left open. He began to panic slightly when Oriana sat down next to him, smoothing out her skirts importantly.

"Wait a second, you're the marchioness?!" he asked.

"Well of course," she replied. "Maggie already said that she'd be the knight and the maid, and otherwise who would be your marchioness? Ariel? He won't even sit long enough to play a baby."

Sterling squirmed uncomfortably at the thought. He watched as his sister put on her practice armor from across the room, wishing he was back in the library.

"Are you ready?" Maglina asked.

"Ready!" Oriana echoed. The make-believe knight then crossed the room, bending down on knee before her liege lord and lady.

"I have terrible news, Your Lordship," she said, affecting a rough accent from the southern beaches of the kingdom. "An auto-maton from Rhylls has landed shore and is wreaking havoc on the fishing villages up and down the coast."

"What do you plan to do about it?" the pretend marchioness asked, her back straight and voice sweet.

"To ride in and attack at dawn, Your Ladyship. I only need the Doctor's permission."

"Oh, uh, sure. Go ahead," Sterling said. The girls both glared at him and frowned.

"Come on, like you mean it," Maglina grumbled.

"Fine." He cleared his throat and imitated his father's icy glare and flat tone he used in court. "If that is what you wish. Should we not hear from you by sundown tomorrow, we shall send reinforcements."

"Thank you, milord. I will not let you down." The make-believe knight then stood and went back to the other side of the room, hastily taking her armor off.

"Come, dearest. Let us go have our afternoon tea," Oriana said, still using her marchioness's tone. They stood up together and she took his hand, leading him back over to their short play table. Once they were down on the floor-cushions, Maglina rushed over to their side and curtsied.

"Tea will be ready in a moment, milady," she said. She then reached over and picked up a doll, one that had been stuffed into one of Seren's infant dresses. "Did you wish to play with the young lord before tea?"

"Why yes please." Oriana took the doll from Maglina and bounced it in her arms like a baby. She glanced over at Sterling, only to see that he was edging away uncomfortably. "Oh, come on… you said you'd play with us!"

"Yeah, but this feels weird," he muttered. Sterling looked down at the table and worried his brow. "I'm sorry Ori, but don't know if I like playing pretend anymore."

"That's just because we haven't had the chance to play in a long time," she reasoned gently. She held his hand, giving it a comforting squeeze. "I'm sure you'll be used to it again by the time we need to go wash up for dinner."

"Are you sur—?" Sterling began. He looked up and was cut off by Oriana pressing her lips against his in a chaste kiss. Freezing up, his face went red as she leaned back and giggled at his expression.

"I'm sure," she said. She then passed over the doll, laying it carefully on his lap and placing his hands on either end. "Now hold your heir, dearest. It's almost time for tea."

Sterling carefully took the doll and sat it upright, keeping it close to his body as Maglina put down the three tea cups filled with apple juice and a plate of biscuits the girls had nicked from the kitchen. He took a biscuit and nibbled on the corner apprehensively. Something about this felt weird, and it wasn't that his sister was sitting down at the table despite playing the maid.

After tea and the imaginary knight making another appearance (fighting the auto-maton, as played by a sleeping Ariel), the heavy toll of the clock signaled it was time for them to leave to get ready for their respective dinners.

"Oh no, I have to go put my practice gear away before Mama and Papa see me!" Maglina gasped. She rushed out of the room, raspberry jam still smeared over her face to feign blood, leaving her brother and friend to force the cat out of the room. Ariel hissed and spat and clawed at Sterling's hands, but once they were out in the hallway the animal sped off angrily.

"Ow…" Sterling muttered, sucking at one of the larger scratches. Oriana leaned forward and looked down at his hands, shaking her head.

"Mum says you shouldn't do that," she said. "She says it'll get infected."

"It's okay—I'll wash my hands," he grumbled. Sterling began to walk down the corridor, only to stop and turn around after a few steps. "Um… Ori…?"

"What is it?"

Silently, he walked back up to her and bent down, this time him kissing her. It was quick and fleeting, yet the very pinnacle of the sterile idea of intimacy only possessed by a boy moved out of the nursery early. He immediately looked away, embarrassed. "I'm not a marquis, and I don't ever want to be."

"I know, but…"

"I'll see you tomorrow for class; got to go, bye," Sterling finished quickly. He then spun on his heel and ran, leaving Oriana blushing in the hall alone. She was confused; they weren't playing anymore, so why did he need to do that? Why did he need to say that?

The little girl shrugged and began to make her way down to the castle grounds; she couldn't dawdle and be late to dinner either.

"Um… Papa…? Can I ask you something?"

The Marquis looked up from his paperwork and saw his eldest son peeking around the opened study door. He was shrinking away timidly, despite the fact he had yet to receive an answer.

"Of course, come in and sit down, starlet," the Marquis said. Sterling quickly came in the door and shut it behind him before scurrying over to the table. He sat down next to his papa, who took a biscuit from the tray on the middle of the table and passed it to him. "First, you have to answer a question from me: why aren't you at your lessons?"

"I told Sir Daniel I don't feel well," the boy muttered, chewing the biscuit slowly. The Marquis raised an eyebrow.

"Are you not feeling well?"

"I lied, kinda," Sterling admitted. "My stomach doesn't feel good, but only when I think about Ori, and since she's at lessons too..."

"Why Oriana?" the Marquis asked. "I know you were playing March yesterday—did she do or say something that you didn't like?" If it was a simple argument that needed quelling, then it was probably good for the boy to get it out then and now.

Sterling shook his head. "Maggie said that they needed a marquis, so I thought it was going to be me pretending to be you while they pretended to be knights, but Ori was the marchioness and… she kissed me."

"She kissed you?" It was all the Marquis could do to not bulge his eyes and allow his eyebrows to fly off his face. He saw the distraught expression his son was wearing and leaned in order to look him in the eyes. "You know, although your mama and I don't often kiss, there are many people that think nothing of it. Maybe her parents are like that, so during play she just assumed that was how all people behave."

"…but Papa…" Sterling's face turned red as the night sky. "…I liked it. I wasn't offended… I liked it."

The Marquis's heart skipped a beat as he straightened his posture and looked back down at his paperwork. Daniel's child. His son, not yet old enough to grow whiskers, had found his first love in his tutor's child. The soldier-turned-tutor, who had been the one to romance his wife to the point that her father needed to marry her off to avoid scandal, who found her again and courted her with his permission, whose disappearance caused the Marquis and Marchioness's relationship to grow closer and blossom into romance. The love between the tutor and the Marchioness had long altered into friendship, that was true, but now their children…

"Most people like kissing—it's nothing odd," he said, attempting to brush it off. "It just means that when you do marry one day, the union will be an affectionate one."

"In the corridor, before heading to dinner, I kissed her back," Sterling confessed. "I told her that I don't want to be marquis, because, you know, that's Lena's job, but… Papa, you were betrothed when you were my age. What do I need to do to be betrothed to Ori?"

"Parents betroth their children, and I am not promising you to anyone," the Marquis said sternly. Sterling shrunk back a little, to which his father gently rested a hand on his shoulder. "Many betrothals don't work out the way they were planned, and either the match does well politically and the couple is miserable, or the couple is happy though in ruin. You and your sisters and Seren will all have the freedom to choose who you marry and why, but only when you are adults."

"You and Lady Melody were happy…" the boy mumbled.

"…only because not only were we lucky, but we had been told our entire lives we were to wed. Both of my marriages were fortunate, considering how your mama and I had never met before our ceremony due to your grandpapa arranging the entire thing through letters. Don't think that just because your papa has been lucky that it means you will be lucky too."

"People aren't happy if they're mean and nasty, and Ori isn't mean or nasty," Sterling reasoned. "She's kind and smart and strong and very pretty. I know I moved out of the nursery early, but should I wait until Ori's out of the nursery before I ask for her hand, or is it okay to ask before that because she's our friend?"

"Just because you're out of the nursery does not mean you are an adult," the Marquis stated. He was breaking out into a full panicked sweat now, trying desperately to stay calm. "Besides, Sir Daniel is actually Baron Coal-on-the-Hill, which means that Oriana is Lady Oriana, and any proposal she gets has to be after she's of-age."

"When is that, Papa?"

"Oriana will have a coming-of-age ceremony when she is eighteen, just like your sister will, since she inherits Sir Daniel's barony. She may even be presented at court with all the other highborn daughters that don't inherit or serve in the military or were betrothed, simply because no one in her family has been so yet. You will meet dozens of other girls between now and then and she will meet dozens of other boys. I'm not saying you won't always be fond of her, because she is a sweet girl and she deserves all the fondness in the world, but there is a chance you won't always be so eager to be her intended."

"She makes me feel floppy inside, but I don't want the feeling to go away," Sterling said. "Does it have to go away?"

"Until you are both adults, yes," the Marquis replied. "If it's still there when that time has come, then so be it." He looked over at his son and nudged him slightly with his wrist. "Go get a blanket from over in the chest and wrap yourself up; there's another biscuit in it for you if you do."

Sterling did as he was told and found a large, soft quilt in a chest in the corner of the room. After draping himself in it, he sat back down and accepted the biscuit from his father, who immediately after rang the servant's bell and ordered them some tea.

"Would you like to stay here today and help me with my papers?" the Marquis asked.

"Uh-huh," Sterling nodded, mouth full of biscuit. "I'm getting better at writing my letters, so I can help you take notes."

"That sounds like an excellent plan." The Marquis passed some clean sheets of scrap papers over to his son and gave him a pencil. "Maybe we can make it a proper day and take lunch in here, how about it?"

"I'd like that. Thanks, Papa."

"You're welcome, starlet."

The Marchioness entered the schoolroom, a few minutes before the children were scheduled to cease their studies for the day. Seren clung to her skirts closely, looking around curiously at the mysterious room that seemed to eat up his siblings for nearly the entire day.

"Hello Daniel, kids," she said as she walked in. Her children all responded with a hello, with Oriana adding "Lady Clara" at the end. The woman furrowed her brow as she did a quick headcount—her eldest son was not there.

"What's the occasion?" the tutor chuckled, standing from his desk to give the Marchioness a hug.

"Oh, I just wanted to see how the kids were doing, but I see we're missing one," she replied with a frown.

"Sterling didn't feel well, Mama," Maglina explained. "He left this morning with bugs in his tummy."

"Butterflies; he said he didn't feel well so I sent him back to his room," the tutor explained when the Marchioness shot him a horrified look. "I figured he might be getting nervous about the Primary Ending Exams, since that's what he and I have been talking about recently to get him ready for next term, so it's really nothing to worry about." He then crouched down and gave Seren's wild mop of curls a ruffle. "How about you? Are you ready to start schooling?"

"Do I have to go outside for school, like Tara?" the boy asked.

"Nope; not unless you want to go outside the castle for classes."

"Then I'm staying here with Mama. I don't want to go away."

"No one is going to make you go away, I promise," the Marchioness assured her youngest. The child hugged her leg and made a small noise as he buried his face in her skirt, making her smirk happily.

It was then that a servant knocked on the open door. "Milady? Milord? I hate to disturb you both, but Lord Johan would like a word with you."

"Both?" the tutor wondered. "Did he say why?"

"No, sir, only that he wished to speak with you. Excuse me." With a bow, the servant was off, leaving the two adults to ponder.

"Lena, please take care of your brother while Sir Daniel and I talk with your papa," the Marchioness instructed. Her eldest stood from her chair and scooped the child up.

"Do you think you'll be long?" Lena asked hesitantly. "I had wanted to take a walk around the grounds before dinner."

"You'll get your walk in, don't worry," the Marchioness replied. She and the tutor then left, navigating the winding castle corridors until they came to where the Marquis was waiting in the study. His hands were folded over the desk and a scowl etched across his face.

"You two, sit," he ordered, motioning towards the other two chairs. The Marchioness and the tutor both looked at one another, confused.

"Johan, what's wrong?" the Marchioness asked. "This is your cross voice. You never use your cross voice with me."

"Today I have decided to make an exception," he replied. "Have a seat." He watched as they sat down cautiously, wondering what was going on. "Sterling was with me all day today. Do either of you know why?"

"He said he wasn't feeling very well, so I sent him back to his room," the tutor explained. He fiddled with his hands, running his fingertips over metal-capped knuckles, and frowned. "He didn't get sick here, did he?"

"Oh, he is sick alright," the Marquis hissed. "Lovesick."

The Marchioness gasped in delight. "Oh really?! Our little boy has a crush? And he told you? On who? Tell me!" Her husband scowled and silently pointed to the tutor.

"…me?!" he asked, extremely unnerved. The Marquis ran a hand through his hair and groaned.

"Not you, you bleeding pudding brain. Your daughter, Oriana. My son asked me today what he needed to do to be betrothed to her."

The tutor's eyes went wide as he stared back at his employer, flabbergasted. He laughed, awkwardly and high in pitch, as he tried to shake the notion.

"Your Sterling? And my Oriana?"

"I didn't say I would arrange it, but I told him, in simple terms, to back down." The Marquis fiddled with some of the papers on the table in an attempt to keep his hands busy. "He wasn't feeling well today because the two of you and your love affair that refuses to die just sprung up in my eldest son."

"Oh come on Johan, you're making this sound like this is a bad thing," the Marchioness tutted. "Now we know that we adore our future in-laws, who are good people with solid standing. One's a war hero honored by the king and the other delivered our youngest daughter in the middle of a firefight, need I remind you."

"Then the two of you need to figure this out because I am not having the first engagement amongst my children be between Sterling and Oriana. I refuse."

"Why? Is there something wrong with my daughter?" the tutor asked, offended. "Are you saying she's not good enough?"

"That's not what I'm saying at all, if you just keep those iron ears of yours open long enough to listen to me," the Marquis snapped, standing up and pointing at the tutor. The other man stood up as well, prompting the Marchioness to wedge her way between them.

"Boys, stop it," she demanded. "Relax and laugh about this, okay? Now Daniel, your daughter is good enough for our son, no matter what anyone anywhere might say or think, do you got that?" He nodded sourly in reply. "Good. Now Johan, what exactly did you tell Sterling?"

"That I am not going to betroth him to anyone, and that Oriana needs to be an adult first before a proposal, not simply out of the nursery," he growled. "She's a good girl, Daniel, and I hope she is always Sterling's friend, but if he jumps into this now then that could spell disaster for the both of them—we don't know and have to err towards caution."

"They're kids, Johan. Just. Kids." The tutor backed down, though his expression did not soften. "At least I know that even if there is a boy looking after my girl, it's one I've taught and helped raise and is soft enough to the point I don't have to worry about them."

"Are you calling my children weaklings?"

"No, I'm saying your son is too kind to be a threat to my daughter's safety. If you don't want me to encourage it, then I won't, but I won't try to stop him."

"They're ten and eight," the Marchioness sighed.

"Exactly." The tutor looked at the Marquis, his expression finally having leveled out. "At ten I thought love was something found in faerie stories and heroic tales of ancient knights. What about you?"

The Marquis thought for a moment, pensive. "Something I had to grow, whether the seed was there or not, because I didn't have a choice. I was told who and what to love, when to love and how much, and I had to do it all to please my lord father."

"Then it's a good thing you both know better now," the Marchioness said. "Right, now shake hands and this does not leave the room—except to tell Martha—and we wait it out. At the end of this we will either be very good friends, or very good friends who share grandchildren, and I will not hear another ill word between the two of you about it. Understood?"

"Yes," both men agreed. They shook hands grumpily and left the room in reluctant agreement. The concept of becoming in-laws was amongst one of the last things they wanted to come to grips with, but children were exactly that: children. It was easy to write it off as Sterling's first feelings of admiration confusing the boy as he wrestled with impending puberty and adulthood, meaning that this would all be a humorous story to tell some unknown young woman and equally-unknown young man during a pair of courtships ten, fifteen, years down the line.

That's what it was, yes… a charming tale of puppy love to embarrass the two in the future. At least, it was what the men were hoping.