Their Hidden Princess (Zora) novel Chapter 27

**Where Sleeping Rivers Dream We Follow Trails Toward Tomorrow**

The morning of Mateball dawned with a peculiar urgency, and at precisely eight o’clock, a sharp knock echoed through my room. Loren, blissfully lost in her dreams, remained undisturbed in her bed, cocooned in layers of soft blankets. The initial knock barely registered in my sleepy mind; I assumed it was a figment of my imagination. However, the second knock, louder and more insistent, jolted me fully awake. With a reluctant sigh, I swung my legs over the side of the bed and padded toward the door, rubbing the remnants of sleep from my eyes to ensure I wasn’t hallucinating.

When I finally opened the door, I was met with a sight that nearly made me blink in disbelief. Standing there were two individuals whose outfits could only be described as extravagantly flamboyant. The one on my right sported spiky black hair that seemed to defy gravity, curling around their face while also shooting straight up toward the ceiling like a punk rock crown. They were adorned in a mishmash of leather and silver chains that glimmered in the morning light, chewing gum with an air of nonchalance as their eyes roamed over me, assessing and appraising.

The second figure was striking in a different way. They wore a pinstriped pantsuit that ended just below their knees, paired with gleaming silver cowboy boots that clicked against the floor with each movement. Their hair was a wild, wavy mane that somehow looked meticulously styled, and a pair of matching silver sunglasses perched on their nose added an air of mystery. With a flick of their black-painted fingernails, they removed the sunglasses, revealing sharp, discerning eyes that scrutinized me just as thoroughly as their companion.

“Oh, Heavens and Hells,” the suited one murmured, barely audible, but I caught the words. They turned to their partner, locking eyes with a dramatic flair. “Maja, we have a monumental task ahead of us, darling.”

I rubbed my eyes again, half-expecting the scene before me to dissolve into thin air. “Um, can I help you?” I stammered, still trying to process the absurdity of the situation.

“We’ve been dispatched to assist you with your preparations for the Mateball,” Maja, the one with the spiky hair, declared with a flourish. Their gaze swept over me once more, as if assessing my worthiness. “Pietha’s absolutely correct. There’s a mountain of work to tackle.”

“Wait, what?” I began, but just then, I heard Loren stirring behind me, and my heart raced. I quickly stepped outside, closing the door just enough to shield her from this unexpected whirlwind. Lowering my voice to a conspiratorial whisper, I asked, “Did the Queen send you?”

The suited figure, Pietha, flashed a smirk that was equal parts charming and mischievous. “She sends her regards, darling,” they drawled, punctuating their statement with a playful wink. “But fear not, we’ve been instructed to keep things on the down-low.”

A wave of relief washed over me, and I exhaled a shaky breath. “Thank God.”

“Indeed, indeed,” Pietha waved dismissively, as if brushing away any lingering concern. “Now, let’s get down to business. I’m Pietha Robins, stylist to the stars of the wolf world. He or him, if you please.” He gestured grandly toward Maja, who wiggled their fingers in a playful greeting.

“Maja Porter,” the spiky-haired one introduced with a flair. “She or they, if you prefer. I’m a MUA and hair artist.”

“MUA?” I echoed, my brow furrowing in confusion. “Hair artist?”

Maja let out a snort of laughter. “Well, I can’t very well call myself a hairdresser,” they retorted with a dramatic flair. “My work transcends that label.”

“Zora?” came a groggy voice from behind me, thick with sleep. I turned to see Loren, finally emerging from the depths of her slumber, her eyes wide with disbelief.

“Oh, sorry!” I exclaimed, propping the door open wider. “My, um, hair and makeup team is here.”

“For tonight?” Loren stepped closer, her eyes widening even more as she took in Pietha’s ensemble. “You’re… you’re…”

Pietha rolled his eyes, clearly used to this reaction. He glanced back at me with a knowing look. “This is the reaction I was hoping for.”

“Sorry,” I mumbled, feeling a bit sheepish. “I’m not exactly well-versed in wolf pop culture.”

Pietha said nothing, instead striding past both me and Loren, making himself at home in my room. Maja followed closely behind, wheeling in a massive cart brimming with an array of makeup and hair tools, some of which I had never even laid eyes on before. Loren remained rooted in place, her jaw slack with astonishment.

“Did you hire them?” she whispered incredulously.

I shook my head. “They were a gift.”

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