Alethea is a kind soul trying to navigate a chaotic world while searching for her place in it. When she discovers she's the lost princess of a vanished planet, her life becomes even more complicated, forcing her to confront a destiny she never asked...
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Alethea's POV:
The sun gently filtered through the curtains, casting a soft, golden glow that bathed the cluttered yet cozy dorm room at Alfea. It was the kind of space we had all come to love, despite its chaotic charm, and it felt like home.
"Stella, it's just us, you know." I teased her from my seat in the chair, flipping through a book absentmindedly. "You don't need to dress to impress."
Stella paused in front of the mirror, her reflection showing a hint of mock offense. She turned to shoot me a playful glare. "Oh, darling, every moment is an opportunity to dress to impress," she retorted, spinning back to her mirror as though she were on a fashion runway.
Bloom, sprawled out across my bed, watched the exchange with a soft smile, clearly amused. "Stella, how much time do you spend on your hair every day?" she asked, half in jest.
"Ask not what I do for my hair, but what my hair does for me," Stella declared dramatically, striking a pose that could rival any model.
"What is that stuff?" Bloom asked, her curiosity piqued as she sat up, her gaze flickering toward the green paste Stella was working into her hair. I looked up from my book, a fond smile tugging at my lips at the sight of Stella in her usual element.
"Flora made it," Stella explained, continuing to massage the concoction into her hair. "It's a botanical and magical formula. Just give it three minutes, and my hair will shine like glass. Wanna try some?"
Bloom was silent for a moment, her eyes flicking between Stella and the jar of green goo in her hand. Noticing the gleam of anticipation in Stella's eyes, she sighed, rolling her eyes good-naturedly. "That's cool."
"Hey, is everything alright?" I asked gently, my voice soft with concern as I set my book aside, sensing something wasn't quite right. Bloom had been quieter than usual, and I could see the distant look in her eyes. "You seem a little... preoccupied."
Bloom's smile faltered, her eyes darkening as she gazed down at her hands. "Just some stuff on my mind," she said quietly, her voice laced with a sadness I hadn't expected.
I exchanged a glance with Stella, who gave me a small nod in silent understanding. It was clear that Bloom wasn't sharing everything. My gut twisted with worry. "It's Brandon, isn't it?"
Bloom's shoulders slumped, her facade crumbling at the mention of his name. She let out a long, resigned sigh before nodding. "It is." Her voice faltered. "He said he would call, and then he never did. The Day of Royals is tomorrow, and it's like... I don't know. It's just not like him."
I tilted my head, confusion knitting my brow. That didn't sound like Brandon at all. He was always so attentive with Bloom—calling after classes, checking in, making sure she was okay. It was clear that he cared about her deeply. Even Silas had commented on it once, which had taken me by surprise.
