Freya’s POV
The cafeteria was packed.
Voices buzzed from every direction, trays clattered, and chairs scraped against the tiled floor in a rhythm that had long since stopped bothering me. I stood at the edge of the crowd, scanning for an empty seat, when something caught my eye.
Or rather—someone.
Stella.
She swept through the doors like a queen entering court. A group of girls surrounded her, moving in sync like backup dancers afraid to miss a beat. But what made me pause wasn’t that they were around her—it was how they acted.
It wasn’t like before, when they just tagged along—now they were practically groveling.
One reached out to take her tray. Another offered to grab her drink. A third clung to her every word like it was gospel. Their laughs were a little too loud. Their compliments, too sweet. They looked like lowly handmaidens waiting on a crown they couldn’t touch.
I blinked. Okay… what was going on?