I woke up to chaos.
The first thing I registered was the soft murmur of voices. Then a not-so-soft knock that was apparently just for show, because the door to my room swung open a second later.
My eyes barely adjusted to the light before a flood of people poured in like a tide I couldn't hope to stop.
Servants at least twenty of them bustled in with arms full of fabric, trays of beauty supplies, and what looked like some sort of torture device disguised as a hairbrush. One woman was holding a blowtorch. A blowtorch.
At the helm of this bizarre invasion? Leora.
"Rise and shine, Mini-Zephara," she called, her voice dripping with amusement as she crossed her arms. "It's your big day, and I'm not letting you ruin it by looking like you just crawled out of the crypt."
I groaned, attempting to bury myself under the covers, but they were ripped away before I could mutter a protest.
