Gown of warmth, people's Queen

Hers was a duty unlike any other
A queen tasked with protecting her king's soul
The weight she carried for him, while being a mother
The people's favourite ruler, the Queen of them all
She strolled through the castle time & again
Checking on the staff, one at a time
While the king worried for his people's lives
She took care of those surrounding them, hearts & minds
No issue went unsolved, our Queen loved them all
Though she had to start retreating when her boy became four
She was the main educator, stern yet kind
Her hands served both as punishment, but more often as guide
The boy learned quickly, but was wild
Entitlement seeped through his skin
And who could blame the boy
For when you're born in familial wealth
Having not to crawl or scrawl
Having not to run for the wood
The boy was born with a golden spoon
Literally, I must add, found in his booth
His room was a haven for any child
Any want or need he had, did arrive
So she found herself in a conjunction
Must she shelter him and try to have him learn through sight
Observing lives of others and cherishing what he had
But she knew better than that
Going this route will build contempt
For the boy knew nothing of the real meaning of struggle
Within his soul she saw a thread
And knew that if it wasn't tugged upon
Her boy would be buried beneath the rubble
The rubble of self-importance and disdain
He'd look down upon anyone not carrying his family's name
She saw it true
For her father, a politician, did so too
She consulted the king, and his counsel was cold
For the kid had to leave in the prime of his youth
Until then they'll have him taught
All manners of combat and survival alone
Like a prophecy he'll be told
Of what he'll have to do
This idea, our Queen loathed
But her husband's wisdom was beyond the need for proof
She trusted his instincts, and ignored her gut
She taught him humility through service to those in a rut
The king showed him how to rule
The Queen showed him how to be kind, not cruel
The coldness within his father's heart
The distance between the man and the world
Stoicism is a beautiful trait
For those forged in the flames of old
But this world's anew
It values bronze and iron far less than gold
Despite the applications being wildly different
So when the boy was eighteen years old
He was sent in the wild, somewhere distant
Only the Queen knew where he went
And between now and then
She became repressed
No longer was her child by her side
But that didn't allow her to wane from her duties
Not for a brief moment did our Queen lose her beauty
Not the superficial, visual kind
She was growing old by this time
No, that of her soul & heart
That which gave weight to her mind
That which gave gentleness to her might
She stayed true to herself
Even when the times were bad
When her husband inevitably fell
To an illness that placed him in bed
She stood guard, vigilant and knowing
When the king's health was a foregone conclusion
She knew then that her son was done growing
It's time to bring the prince home
So she went on, leaving the kingdom in the hands of the Regent
She didn't inform him, for his ambition she was fearing
She knew not what he might do
Whether he'd kill her family line
Whether the kingdom's line would end with one man's pride
So she moved on, with a small guard
And took what she was owed on her way out
She rode for days
Days became weeks, months
She finally arrived on the kingdom's edge
To find her son's village has become
Nothing but rubble and ash
Someone burned it to the ground
She then learned, thankfully
Before her heart sank to her bowels
That the villagers moved nearby
And a hero avenged them all
For the bandits, barbarians struck
An empty mayor's hall
The hero was unknown to the villagers
But he was mighty strong
With the kindest heart they've met to repel their pillagers
He could almost do no wrong
She was guided to his cave
For he lived off what the land could give
He had no wealth or majesty of his own
Which she perceived as something that could not live
She taught him decorum again
Revived the old knowledge in his brain
She died in his arms, warm and content
For her journey finally met its end
Dutiful Queen, people's Queen, wearing the gown of warmth
Her son inherited her gown, and wore it as a cloak
It blackened by the end, by the time he went home
He stabbed the Regent to announce his return
 Through the cape of blades justice was dispensed
For while the Regent didn't do him directly any wrong
He banished his mother in the end
And mistreated his people's health
His father's will came true
The once-boy now grew
The people's Queen is remembered forever
Even in death, she still perceives
Through the eyes of her son
The king is dead, long live the king
For the Regent's dead, and the true king's returned
People still sing her praises today
For the Queen did the impossible
She brought back the prodigal son
So when the clouds did fade, and the smog was gone
They saw her visage peering through the sun
She brought back the light
Her light shines through the new king
For there will never be a blight
That this man cannot defeat with them
Defend them he will, at least she prays in her last breath
She did her job, her watch did end
Rest well, people's Queen
For your child is the best of both worlds