The Lores of Lyra - Rising Star [Book I]

Chapter 1 - The Attack

Her mother sighed and gave in with a small laugh. “I guess I am a bit edgy—he makes me feel young again.”

Miriam contemplated the statement a bit. “Your names do seem to match. Steven and Veronica…” She winked to the reflection. “There’s a small ring to it, isn’t there?”

Veronica just shook her head lightly.

“Sit still, please.” Miriam took a few hairpins and started to organize her mother’s hair. “He seems to make you happy.” She placed the final hairpin, securing the bun on the top of the head. Instinctively, she reached out to free two locks of hair, framing her mother’s face in a youthful way. Gone were the wrinkles, and there was a slight glint in her eyes.

“Don’t worry. He does. He certainly does.” Veronica refreshed her own lipstick before rising from the stool to squeeze Miriam. “I’m so happy!” 

Miriam felt her whole body tremble as optimism filled her. She helped her mother arrange the folds on her dark red skirt. With her hands folded in front of her, Miriam watched as her mother left the room. Before Veronica disappeared through the door, she turned around, a concerned expression on her face.

“I genuinely hope…” she trailed off, looking down in shame.

“Me too, Ma. Me too,” Miriam said with a vague smile, crossing her fingers behind her back. She hoped as well.

Please, let there be no attacks today. Shaking her head to rid herself from the worries, she thought of her mother. The woman who had raised her. A wise and creative woman who deserved happiness. Her mother never made Miriam feel unwanted, and for that, Miriam wished for nothing more than to make her mother proud of her.

Miriam avoided looking in the mirror. She didn’t want to jinx tonight. While her attacks had been random at most, she always found them to come when she was feeling extra good about herself.

The wind caught a strand of her silvery hair, blowing it into her line of view. In comparison to her mother, Miriam was colorless. Many times Miriam had looked at her own blue eyes, finding them to be dull and lifeless. A recurring question flared through her mind. 

Do I look like my father? 

Although her family had always openly talked about many things, Miriam’s heritage was something they refused to discuss. And on a day like today, it didn't matter. All she needed to worry about was to remember her manners when eating.

Her stomach growled in response to her thoughts. It was time to leave. She tied a blue ribbon around her hair, making sure her appearance was as flawless as possible before walking out. Her thoughts returned to dinner, curious about what the menu for tonight would be. She ran out of the room, and passed the various pieces of arts that decorated the halls. Miriam slowed down when she came to the steep stairway, and with one hand on the rail, she descended slowly to the main hall. 

To think that all these artifacts could have been lost forever if it wasn't for her mother. Miriam often stopped to appreciate their beauty—but not today. She skipped around the marble pillar, and ran down the narrow hall to the kitchen. This place was normally used for the house staff, but Miriam didn't care.

It wasn't until she ran into someone that she stopped to breathe. She gave out a welp before checking if she'd hurt anyone. 

“I’m so sorry, Miss,” Gustavo said. The older man had been the family butler for as long as Miriam could remember. His kind eyes never ceased to calm her when she was sad. He’d be perfect if he didn’t insist on being so formal.

“How many times have I told you to call me Miriam?” she scolded in a playful tone as she tilted her head back in order to look up at him.

“Many times, Miss.”