Joseph lay in his bed, the morning sun invading his slumber like an unwelcome guest. He squinted against the bright light streaming through the window, grumbling under his breath.

“Blasted sun, can’t a man get a moment’s peace?” he muttered, pulling the covers over his head.

The cheerful chirping of birds only added to his irritation. “Aye, sing your merry tunes, why don’t you? Not all of us find joy in this infernal morning,” he groaned.

It had been a year since the king’s demonic rage had ravaged the village, but Joseph couldn’t shake his grumpy disposition, even in the newfound quiet.