The next morning, pale sunlight spilled through the orphanage windows, warming the wooden floors and filling the halls with a gentle golden glow.
For once, nothing was wrong.
No monsters.
No kings.
No curses whispering through the air.
Just… morning.
Breakfast Chaos
The day started the same way it always did:
with absolute disaster in the kitchen.
"REN—STOP EATING THE BREAD BEFORE WE SERVE IT!"
"It was ONE piece—AH! Don't hit me with the spoon!"
Mother mari chased Ren in circles with a wooden spoon as children laughed and a few toddlers clapped, thinking this was some kind of morning performance.
Riven walked in with sleepy eyes and her hair a mess, wearing a loose black shirt and no patience.
"Why are you all yelling at seven in the morning…?" she muttered.
A tiny girl tugged her pant leg.
"Riven , Lira burned the eggs again."
"I did NOT burn them!" Lira shouted from across the room. "They're just… extra crispy!"
Smoke drifted from the pan.
Riven stared.
The eggs were… black.
"Lira… that's charcoal."
The girl froze.
"Oh."
Ren whispered loudly, "You're banned from cooking forever."
"I HEARD THAT!"
Raven said in a sleepy voice.
Go and help the children, I'll prepare breakfast.
After breakfast (and after Lira was officially banned from touching the stove), Riven found herself dragged outside by a group of small children.
"Riven play with us!"
"Teach us the cool moves!"
"I wanna punch like you!"
Riven blinked.
"No. Absolutely not."
Ten little faces instantly drooped.
Some even quivered their lips.
She groaned.
"…Fine. TEN minutes."
Cheers exploded.
And just like that, she found herself standing in the backyard, surrounded by little trainees trying (and failing) to copy her movements.
One kid tried to punch the air and spun in a full accidental circle, falling into a bush.
Another tripped over his own foot and face-planted into the grass.
Ren leaned against the wall, laughing so hard he nearly fell over.
"You're so good with kids," he said sarcastically.
"I will break your knees," Riven replied calmly.
"This one is just dramatic."
Later in the afternoon, Riven helped hang the laundry.
Two sheets
One towel
Six socks
Three shirts—
and a toddler.
"Why is there a child in the laundry basket?" Riven asked.
The toddler stared up at her.
"…I live here now."
"No, you don't."
"Yes I do."
"No."
"YES."
"No."
Mother mari passed by, wearing her warm apron.
"He's been hiding in it all day," she sighed. "Just leave him."
Riven rubbed her temples.
"This place is insane."
As evening arrived, the chaos of the day settled into soft laughter, warm dinner smells, and sleepy children.
Riven stepped onto the roof—her favorite place—sitting on the edge with her legs dangling.
The sky painted itself in orange and pink.
Morrivayne floated beside her in a swirl of red mist.
"So," the demon murmured, "how does it feel? Living like a normal girl? Eating burnt eggs? Chasing children? Fixing laundry disasters?"
Riven leaned back on her hands.
"It feels…"
She searched for the word.
"…peaceful."
Morrivayne smirked.
"Enjoy it while it lasts."
Riven didn't reply.
But she felt it too.
This peace—
this quiet warmth—
this laughter—
it was the kind of calm that comes right before a storm tears the world open.
And somewhere far away, in the royal palace, a silver-haired princess pressed a trembling hand to her chest…
as the hidden curse inside her awakened just a little more.