Each stroke of the brush sounded like a wave lapping against the sand and then retreating. That's what Viktor pictured, his mind painting the image of the gentle caress of the tide. His mother's voice was always so soothing, like calm seas, even when she was reprimanding him.

"Vitya, your father told me what you did today." Viktor's eyes widened, and he let out a little "eep" sound. His mother chuckled, soft and low. "You know you shouldn't sneak off, my star." Viktor pursed his lips.

"I know." He stared into the flames, watching how its glow flickered golden on his skin.

"Your lessons are very important." Her tone was light, but Viktor knew that she was being serious. He felt guilty, and looked over his shoulder back at her.

"I'm sorry, Mommy." She laughed again, gently guiding his head back so that he was facing forward again.

"It's alright, my star. Please, just remember that you will be tsar someday, and you must be prepared." In his head, Viktor pictured his father. He was so strong and brave, like nothing could get to him. He wanted to be just like him, and so he nodded.

"Hold still, please." His mother was parting his hair into sections so that she could braid it. "All done," she announced as she tied a ribbon on the end. Viktor bounced up, feeling the plait thump against his back. He kneeled on the bed and hugged his mother.

Thank you, Mommy." She smiled, her warm eyes crinkling in the corners, and embraced him back. "Can I do your hair now?" Viktor asked excitedly. His mother raised one eyebrow, and he laughed and laughed. "Pleeease."

"Well, alright." She handed him the brush, then turned around and pushed her hair over her shoulder. It was the same color as Viktor's, silver as a fancy spoon or perhaps the moon. The strands glittered in the firelight. It was very, very long, at her knees when she was standing. When Viktor was all grown up, he wanted his hair to be like that.

He was very careful when he was brushing so that he didn't pull too hard. He stuck out his tongue in concentration as he did the plait. He tried his very best, really, but the end result wasn't nearly as pretty as when his mom did braids. Still, he was proud of the braid, with one section far thinner than the others and loops of hair sticking out at odd angles.

His mother gave him a silky red ribbon, and he tied it in a knot at the bottom of the plait. (He didn't know how to do bows yet.) Smiling at his magnum opus, Viktor slid the braid back over his mother's shoulder.

"Wow!" she exclaimed as she examined it. "You're learning so fast!" Viktor grinned, pleased with himself. His mother turned to face him again and kissed his forehead. "Very good, Vitya." She leaned in closer, as if to tell him a big secret. "It's getting late," she whispered. "It's time for little stars to be heading off to sleep."

"But the stars shine more brightly at night!"

"That is because they are dreaming," Viktor's mother explained with a smile. "They glimmer when they're having lovely dreams."

"What about the morning star?"

"The morning star watches over all the other little stars while they sleep to make sure that they are safe. She waits until all the stars are awake before dimming her guiding light."

"Like a mommy?" Viktor asked, eyes wide. He pictured his mother as the morning star, protecting him from the darkness of the night.

"Precisely."

She stood, and helped Viktor off of the bed. She lit a candle and held the handle of the holder, then extended her hand to him. Viktor took her fingers. They walked down the dimly lit hallways, which would be scary if Viktor's mother wasn't there to protect him. Her light guided the way, the threatening shadows dispersing.

She let go of his hand to open the door, and then took it again as the walked across the floor. She picked him up and laid him down in his bed, tenderly tucking him in.

"I love you, my little star," she told him, then kissed his forehead once more. Viktor hugged her.

"I love you too, Mommy," he murmured into her neck. She released him and smiled.

"Goodnight, have sweet dreams." She left, and the light of her candle faded away. Viktor curled up into his bed, falling into gentle, rhythmic dreams, like the ocean was rocking him back and forth.