Their Hidden Princess (Zora) novel Chapter 12

**Where Sleeping Rivers Dream We Follow Trails Toward Tomorrow by Evan Miles Cade**
**Chapter 12**

The world around me was enveloped in darkness for a fleeting moment, a comforting blanket that wrapped me in tranquility. It was a serene kind of darkness, one that held no fear of lurking dangers or savage beasts. In that stillness, I found solace, a momentary escape from the chaos of reality.

But that peace shattered as my eyes reluctantly peeled open, assaulted by a blinding white light.

I recoiled instinctively, a visceral reaction to the brightness that felt like daggers piercing my senses. My eyelids protested, and I winced, feeling every muscle in my body protest as I moved. The effort sent waves of pain radiating throughout me, and rather than scream, I could only manage a low, gravelly grunt.

“Ouch,” I managed to croak, my voice hoarse and rough, as though sand had been poured down my throat while I slept.

A low chuckle broke through the haze to my left, and I turned my head with great effort. Professor Lunerly was perched in a chair beside my bed, a striking contrast to the vibrant red robes I had seen him in before. Today, he wore a simple, collarless button-down shirt, its buttons dangerously low, and dark trousers that revealed a sliver of skin where his leg crossed over the other. The sight sent an unexpected shiver down my spine.

“Good morning,” he teased, an amused glint in his eye.

“Good morning,” I rasped back, my voice still thick with sleep. “Is it really morning?”

“No,” he replied, straightening his posture. “It’s actually around ten-thirty. You’ve been out cold for about eight hours.”

“Holy shit,” I breathed, the reality of my extended slumber hitting me like a wave. I attempted to push myself into a sitting position, but pain shot through me, causing me to sink back into the pillows with a groan.

In an instant, Professor Lunerly was on his feet, his white-gold eyes scanning my form with a mixture of concern and curiosity. “Careful now,” he said, his tone gentle yet firm. His hand found its way to my shoulder, and the warmth of his touch sent a wave of comfort through me. I let out a long, shaky breath.

“God, I feel like I got hit by a bus,” I admitted, the pain still throbbing in my muscles.

“You looked like it,” he replied, a hint of seriousness creeping into his voice. “I did some investigating, and it was clear this was Mr. Moonraiser’s doing.”

My stomach twisted at the mention of Kairos. I knew all too well the repercussions of revealing his reckless behavior. The target on my forehead would only grow larger if I spoke out. Just as I opened my mouth to respond, Lunerly’s phone buzzed insistently.

“Excuse me,” he said, reaching into his pocket. He stared at the screen for a moment before handing it to me. “I believe this is for you.”

Furrowing my brows in confusion, I took the phone hesitantly. My heart sank as I saw the letters “VL” flash on the caller ID. It was Victoria. A sigh escaped my lips as I steeled myself before pressing the answer button and bringing the phone to my ear.

“Mother,” I greeted, trying to keep my voice steady.

“Zora!” Victoria’s voice came through, sharp and urgent. “Valentin told me you were in the infirmary. This is utterly inappropriate behavior for the crown. And from a potential crown consort!”

“I’m fine,” I interjected sharply, feeling the familiar frustration rise within me. Of course, her concern was rooted in the crown’s image rather than my well-being. I rubbed my face in exasperation. “Thanks for asking.”

“Gods,” she swore, her tone softening slightly. “I— I should’ve asked that first. But are you? Okay, that is?”

“Again, I’m fine,” I reiterated, trying to keep my irritation in check. “Just sore muscles and a few scratches. Nothing a band-aid won’t fix.”

“But it shouldn’t need a band-aid,” Victoria insisted, her voice rising with concern. “You’re the heir to the throne, Zora. I can’t bear the thought of you getting hurt again and again!”

“I’m sorry I’m not the warrior you were!” I shot back, my voice filled with defiance.

“What are you talking about?” Victoria’s worry was palpable. “What did Valentin tell you?”

“He told me nothing!” I snapped, the anger bubbling over. “It’s practically in the back of the goddamn handbook how you led the wolves to victory against the vampires! I’m sorry I’m not some valiant warrior, but you know just as well as I do that if I don’t earn this myself, the rest of the school will never respect me.”

“They would if they knew who you were!” Victoria screeched, her frustration spilling over. She took a breath, lowering her voice. “If you’d just accept one of the men as your mate—”

“No, Mom,” I interrupted vehemently. “I’m not marrying one of those dickbags!”

“But what if they are your fated mate?” she pressed, her tone shifting to a more persuasive note.

What in the world was a fated mate?

“Fated what?” I asked incredulously, glancing at Professor Lunerly, who was watching our conversation intently. I made a mental note to delve into that later.

“Fated mate,” Victoria sighed. “I suppose you haven’t been to that class yet…”

“I was too busy being attacked,” I shot back, the sarcasm dripping from my words. “My bad.”

Victoria sighed again, and I could sense her giving up on the argument. I imagined her rubbing her eyes in frustration on the other end of the line.

“A fated mate,” she explained gently, “is different from a chosen mate. It is someone the universe has destined you to be with. Those who are with their chosen mates can awaken deeper, more wondrous powers.”

“These should be healed already,” he murmured, concern etched on his features as he poked at one of the cuts. I hissed at the contact, and his eyes darted up to mine, filled with worry. He quickly returned to redressing my wounds, his movements careful and deliberate.

“You’re far too fragile to be this reckless,” he whispered, his voice low and soothing. I tried to ignore the tenderness in the way he wrapped the bandages around my arm. When he finally moved to the cut on my cheek, I found my voice again.

“So teach me,” I said quietly, the words escaping before I could second-guess myself. I knew he heard me; his hands stilled momentarily. He gently removed the bandage, replacing it with a fresh one, all the while I watched him intently.

His hands were long and graceful, his nails impeccably manicured. His nose was elegantly shaped, a gentle slope that complemented his perfectly structured face. His hair, swept off his shoulders and gathered in a bun at the nape of his neck, looked so soft that I felt an inexplicable urge to run my fingers through it.

In all my life, I had never encountered someone so striking. It left me momentarily frozen as Lunerly meticulously tended to my wounds. Once he finished, he stood tall and looked down at me.

“Can you meet me tomorrow? Before classes?” he asked, his tone serious yet hopeful.

I blinked in surprise. “I suppose,” I replied cautiously. “Why?”

“Your mother has requested that I train you,” he stated matter-of-factly. “And I’ve decided to go through with it.”

I stared at him, astonished. “Y-you’ll train me?” I stammered, still grappling with the idea. “Aren’t you busy with teaching classes and, you know, being the Headmaster and everything?”

Lunerly chuckled softly, a warm sound that eased my tension. “I am,” he admitted. “But there’s something about you—” he tilted his head slightly, considering his next words. “I feel compelled to do this.”

“Well, I appreciate it,” I said sincerely, my heart swelling with gratitude.

“Of course,” he replied, a soft smile gracing his lips. “I’ll meet you in the gym tomorrow around six in the morning. Is that alright?”

“Of course, Professor,” I responded, a sense of determination growing within me.

“Valentin,” he corrected gently, his smile widening. “Please, call me Valentin.”

“Valentin,” I echoed, mirroring his smile.

He nodded at me, then turned to leave. Just as he reached the door, I suddenly remembered something my mother had mentioned. “Oh!” I called out, my curiosity piqued. “Who is the fourth person? The last candidate for my fiancé?”

Valentin paused, his body freezing in place. He slowly turned back to face me, his expression shifting to one of concern. “What?” he whispered, a hint of apprehension in his voice.