Chapter 9 — Hoodies, Heels, and Helplessness

Chapter 9 — Hoodies, Heels, and Helplessness

The Rivera estate was louder than usual.

Servants bustled through the halls with bright faces and hurried steps, polishing, decorating, arranging flowers that hadn’t bloomed in years. Why? Because the Duke’s heir—Aster Rivera—was getting engaged. And not just to anyone. To the Second Princess of the kingdom herself.

It was, to put it lightly, a nobleman's dream come true.

And in the middle of it all… Stella was asleep. Again.

Wrapped in a blanket, tangled up like a lazy cat on her oversized bed, her hair shimmering with starry strands as if the cosmos had passed out right alongside her.

Then the door slammed open.

> "Stella, darling!"

Duchess Rivera’s voice thundered across the room like a royal decree.

Stella’s eyes cracked open slowly. Her expression wasn’t fear—it was confusion. The kind of existential confusion you feel after being yanked out of a dreamless void and shoved face-first into mortal responsibility.

> "...Why the volume…? My soul hasn’t finished recharging yet..."

> "No time!" the Duchess said, clapping twice.

Four maids swooped in like summoned familiars.

> "Lift her."

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> "...Excuse me?"

She was hoisted like an elegant sack of cosmic potatoes.

> "What... what engagement?" Stella muttered as she floated past her mirror, still wearing her fox-print pajamas.

> "Your brother’s, of course!" the Duchess beamed. "You’re coming with us for final fittings, and you’ll help with preparations. No more napping. This is family duty!"

Stella blinked at the ceiling as she was carried down the hall like a disgruntled deity.

> "My punishment for existing… has finally come."

On the way, her mother’s eyes landed on her pajama set.

> "What on earth are you wearing? Where did you get that?"

> "Magic," Stella said flatly. "Awakened it last week. Custom wardrobe magic. Very advanced."

> "Truly?"

> "Definitely."

The Duchess narrowed her eyes, suspicious, but didn’t press further.

Once they reached the dressing room, the maids moved to undress her—only for Stella to raise a finger lazily.

> "Before you bring out the ten-layer corset torture device—no. I’m not wearing that."

> "What do you mean 'no'? You used to adore gowns!"

> "That version of me is somewhere in a black hole. I’m not digging her out."

> "You’re still a lady of this house!" the Duchess snapped.

Stella stared at her. For a moment, time seemed to hold its breath.

> "And yet, not even godhood can shield me from maternal authority…"

With a sigh of divine resignation, she extended her hand and casually pulled a seam in reality open—a small, shimmering rift.

From it, she withdrew a white hoodie with a sky-blue stripe, soft faded jeans, and a pair of sleek sneakers with galaxy-tinted soles that shimmered like stardust.

> "I’ll wear these."

> "Stella, darling, those aren’t even... dresses!"

> "They're efficient battle-grade comfort armor," she replied, stepping into the jeans with the practiced air of someone who’s slept through every major historical event. "Trust me. I’ve drifted through collapsing stars in less comfortable things."

The Duchess raised a hand to stop the maids from interfering. She eyed the material—soft, durable, strange, yet undeniably elegant in its simplicity.

> "Is this… silk?"

> "Something better. Stolen from a realm where everything is stitched by light itself."

> "Ah. Magic again?"

> "Always."

Once dressed, Stella stood before the mirror. The hoodie hung loosely around her, the fox emblem from her pajamas now stitched subtly onto the sleeve. Her jeans fit comfortably, and her shoes glimmered faintly as they caught the light.

Her star-drenched hair poured down her back like a velvet nebula. Her sleepy, cosmic gaze locked with her reflection. She looked… otherworldly. And bored.

She gave a soft yawn.

> "There. Royal engagement ready."

The Duchess stared at her. The maids whispered.

> "She looks like a foreign princess from some far-off empire..." "No, like a dream spirit who wandered into noble society..." "Is this going to be a new trend?" "Only if she doesn’t destroy the kingdom’s sense of fashion first..."

The Duchess cleared her throat.

> "Very well. It’s unorthodox. But you look… strangely dignified. Let’s go shopping before I change my mind."

Stella gave a half-hearted thumbs up.

> "If I collapse mid-walk, just leave me there. The ground is soft enough for a nap."

And with that, the sleepy star-being and

her entourage marched off—into the streets of nobility, fashion judgment, and engagement chaos.

A shopping spree was about to begin.

Heaven help the boutiques.