It was a sunny morning in a certain manor that should have been safe from the problems of the Empire. Virtual birds were chirping, and the room smelled faintly of sandalwood and danger—
"—Huh?!"
Owen nearly leapt out of his bed when his bleary eyes adjusted enough to see not one but two figures looming over him. His parents. And they were standing far too close. For one horrifying second, he thought he had died and was being judged by them in the afterlife.
Then he blinked again and realized there were three. Three people staring down at him.
He screeched so loudly the windows rattled, and if anyone else in the manor had still been asleep, they certainly weren't anymore. Which was fair, considering that Owen could probably sleep through a bombing and still snore on happily, so drastic measures had clearly been necessary.
