Chapter 1 Blissful dreams

Miri's POV

"Miri! MIRI!!"

I hear someone yelling my name, but I feel way too sleepy to actually focus on whose voice it is. Well, I've never been a morning person, and I made the painstaking decision of not starting now, so I snuggle deeper into my very cozy blanket only to feel it pulled right off me.

My eyes widened.

"Well, now I'm awake, all than-"

I swallow the rest of whatever I was about to say as I see that it's my mother. But I stopped too late; she had already understood my earlier discontinued statement and flicked my head.

"Come downstairs, you lazy creature. Don't tell me you forgot what today was, right?"

I hear my elder brother, Torven, snicker from the door, already able to tell from my facial expression that I had indeed forgotten. My mom just sighs and, with a shake of her head, repeats her earlier command:

"Come downstairs."

Then she walks away.

I quickly gather myself and head downstairs.

My father, Jack Morvain, sat at the single armrest chair in the living room, arms crossed but with the same gentle gaze he always has on his face, making him look younger than I can actually give him credit for.

My mom, Lisa Morvain, sat opposite him in the matching chair, with a sweet smile plastered on her face. The earlier scowl from trying to wake me had already vanished, which made me smile in return.

And then lastly, I see my brother Torven laying lazily on the couch, ever the jerk he is. But me, staying true to the role of his beloved sister, decided to be a bit troublesome, so I sat beside him and rested part of my body on his thigh.

At first, in a moment of insanity, he gently strokes my head before his brain seems to reboot and then he flicks my forehead.

I yelled indignantly, "What was that for?"

He has the actual audacity to shrug... and even stifle a laugh. Well, so did my parents but that is beside the point.

Since I can't really do anything to them, I put all my focus on the one person I can do something to.

While acting innocently, I adjust myself on his thigh and pretend I'm about to get up, all while supporting myself on my elbow placed directly on his thigh. I get a twisted sense of satisfaction as I watch his face contort in pain once my body weight starts to settle in.

But my dad stops me in my tracks by simply clearing his throat.

I instantly stop, feeling wronged that I didn't even get the opportunity to land this small win.

"Sometimes I think I'm not even your daughter and you actually picked me from bushes," I mutter.

The atmosphere instantly becomes weird. Mom lets out a laugh that sounds mechanical... fake, even. But I choose to ignore it.

Once again, Dad clears his throat.

"It has been 24 hours since your 14th birthday. You remember our tradition, right?"

And it instantly clicks.

Every year, a day after my birthday, Dad tells me two stories: the founding of the empires and the story surrounding the loss of the princess.

How could I forget that?

I internally slap myself.

Dad speaks again.

"Usually I tell two stories, but today I shall give you three."

Just when I'm about to speak, he interrupts:

"Do not say anything or ask anything until the end of all three stories. After that, I will answer whatever questions you have."

We all nod in unison, responding to his earlier command. Then he begins:

"I will first tell you how our empire came to be, and of the war that plagued several centuries ago..."