First of all - what kind of "situation with Miko" are we talking about?

And second - what does he mean, "untouched"?!

But I don't dare to voice either question when I notice how the chief's gaze changes. He no longer looks hostile - there's curiosity in his eyes now, almost interest.

"You're right, Dil," the leader says thoughtfully, a pleased smile spreading across his face. "She'll be perfect!"

"For what exactly will I be perfect?" I finally find my voice.

"As a candidate to become our king's bride," the ruler announces, and my jaw nearly drops. "Each year, from every settlement across the kingdom's lands, one maiden is chosen as a potential queen for our ruler. For many years now, our king, Karadeylis, has failed to find himself a wife. This time, the scouts of brides chose my daughter, Miko. But you'll replace her. You're young, beautiful, and pure - there should be no problem with the substitution."

"And what's wrong with your daughter becoming queen?" I ask, completely failing to grasp the panic in his voice. I mean, any girl would dream of such an opportunity, and here they act like it's a tragedy.

I notice Dil tense up, letting out a displeased growl, but Manar cuts him off.

"I love my daughters dearly," he says, his tone softening. "And Miko does not wish to share the fate of a queen. She and Dildan are in love - their wedding was already planned before the king's scouts arrived and chose her."

"Well then," I suggest reasonably, "maybe the king won't like her. Maybe they won't have anything in common, and Miko will come back home. I assume there are several candidates, right? So why all the panic?"

"That's for you to deal with now," Manar snaps sharply, his tone rising with authority. "Miko stays here and will be married in a month. Dil, take Naziza to Alaya and assign guards so she doesn't run away. If the werewolves get wind of her, they'll snatch her - and our whole plan will be ruined."

"Werewolves?!" I stare at the men, wide-eyed, certain I've misheard them - but they continue their discussion as if my horrified outburst never happened.

"Let Alaya take care of our guest and make her presentable," the pack leader said with a grimace, his eyes flicking with clear disdain to my short Minnie Mouse pajama set.

"Hey! Does anyone plan to ask me whether I want this?!" I burst out, my voice trembling with outrage. "This is literally a crime - a violation of my rights!"

Both men stared at me in stunned silence for a second, then exchanged glances - and suddenly burst out laughing like a pair of wild horses.

Great. Just great. So much for human rights. Clearly, this place has never even heard of them. A bunch of savages!

The only small comfort was that, for now, they seemed to need me alive and intact - no one was going to attack or kill me. But the future... that was another story. Something was definitely off, and I didn't have to be a genius to realize they weren't telling me everything.

If only I could run... but where to? I didn't know this world at all - its people, its customs, or even which way was safe.

Dil led me out of the chief's house and down the street to a small, cozy-looking home. In front of it, a dark-haired woman in her fifties was busy tending to a flower bed.

"Alaya, this is Naziza," Dil announced in his usual curt tone. "Manar ordered you to get her ready for the king's scouts' arrival. Until then, she'll stay with you. Keep an eye on her - the guards will be here soon."

He said it sharply, leaving no room for discussion. The woman - with the most stunningly blue eyes - looked me over with a mix of curiosity and sympathy.

"All right, Dildan. I understand," she replied quietly, brushing the dirt off her hands and offering me a kind smile. She gestured toward the house. I followed her obediently, while Dil whispered something to her before leaving.

As soon as we stepped inside, a warm, homey smell of baking and something delicious reached my nose, making my stomach growl in betrayal. The interior was cozy and comforting - it actually felt like home.

"My name is Alaya," the woman said with a gentle smile. "And you must be starving. Let's fix that first."

She guided me to a big wooden table in the kitchen and began bustling around. I couldn't help but notice something that looked suspiciously like a refrigerator. It turned out to be a small chamber - when Alaya opened it, a chill breeze brushed my legs. So maybe this world wasn't as primitive as it looked. I wondered... did they have electricity too?

A few minutes later, she placed before me a meal that smelled heavenly - though I had no idea what it was made of - and a steaming cup of what looked like tea.

"You're definitely not from around here," Alaya said kindly, sitting across from me and watching my cautious curiosity.

"No, I'm not," I admitted, deciding it was better not to go into detail that I wasn't just from another region... but from another world. Who knows, maybe they'd burn me at the stake for that.

"Well, if you don't want to tell me where you're from, I won't insist," Alaya said softly, watching me with understanding. "Just know this - I won't judge you, and your secrets are safe with me. For now, eat and regain your strength. I'll go prepare a room for you."

With that, she disappeared somewhere deeper into the house, and I turned my attention to the food.

It looked like some kind of stew - I even recognized bits of potato, carrot, and onion. But there were also strange vegetables I'd never seen before, and meat that almost tasted like beef, though it was sweeter and softer. It was delicious, and I couldn't help but feel genuinely grateful to the woman.

When Alaya returned, I immediately told her how good it was. She smiled warmly - not the pushy kind of smile, but the kind that made you feel safe. I couldn't stop wondering how someone so kind could live all alone in such a large house.

"This will be your room," Alaya said as she led me to one of the doors.

Inside was a small, cozy chamber with another door leading to a bathroom. Everything looked a little different from what I was used to, but the general idea of how it worked was clear enough.

"Freshen up. I'll bring you something clean to wear," Alaya said gently, her smile reassuring, before quietly leaving me alone.

After wandering through fields, forests, and gods-know-what bushes, a bath sounded like pure heaven. Without wasting a second, I stripped down and headed toward the large basin. But as I stepped forward, something caught my eye - a huge mirror in the corner, reaching from floor to ceiling.

When I saw my reflection, I froze.

Who was that girl staring back at me?

Standing completely naked before the mirror, I nearly gasped. My breasts looked fuller, my stomach was flat and toned, and my legs - long and flawless, like a model's. My skin was much paler than before, smooth and glowing, and my hair... my hair was now a soft, luminous lilac color, flowing down like silk.

But the real shock came from my eyes. They used to be blue - ordinary, human blue - but now they glowed like two bright topazes, shining with strange light.

If I looked closely, I could still recognize my features beneath the changes, but it was as if someone had photoshopped me to perfection and added a dozen beauty filters.

And the strangest, most wonderful part?

I looked at least ten years younger.

The girl in the mirror looked no more than seventeen or eighteen - youthful, radiant, ethereal. My face was smooth and flawless, my expression almost otherworldly. And then I noticed the delicate markings on my skin - faint, intricate patterns that shimmered slightly under the light, adding a mysterious beauty to this... new version of me.

What a transformation! Absolutely unbelievable!

After finally stepping into the bath, I was surprised to find there weren't any bottles or soaps anywhere. But the water itself had a light floral scent, pleasant and delicate.

Perhaps they mix some kind of cleansing essence directly into the water, I thought - because after washing, my skin and hair felt perfectly clean and fragrant, soft as silk. No shampoo, no body wash, yet somehow I smelled like a blooming meadow.

When I stepped back into the room, wrapped in a towel, I found Alaya sitting quietly on the bed, waiting for me.

"Here, Naziza," she said gently, pointing at a neatly folded stack of clothes. "These once belonged to my daughter, Sariya. I hope they'll fit you. This room used to be hers as well."

Her lips curved into a faint, sad smile.

"Will your daughter be all right with that?" I asked cautiously. The last thing I wanted was for someone to come storming in later, screaming and ripping the dress off me because it wasn't mine.

"Don't worry," Alaya said softly, her gaze dropping to the floor. "She... she's no longer with me. And most likely, she's not even alive anymore."

Her voice broke, and she pressed her lips together, trying to hide the grief that flooded her eyes.

"Oh, Alaya... I'm so sorry," I whispered sincerely. "I didn't mean to pry. What happened to her? Did the werewolves take her?"

I don't even know why I asked. The question slipped out on its own, as if some instinct urged me to. I could feel this was something important - something that mattered.

Alaya gave a weary, hollow smile.

"No. Werewolves only take a girl if they sense she's their fated mate," she said quietly. "My daughter... she was chosen as one of the king's potential brides."

Her voice trembled on the last word, and the sorrow that washed over her made my chest tighten painfully.

Her words made my mouth fall open and my heart drop straight into my stomach.

Oh, that's VERY reassuring!

"How?" I barely managed to choke out, my body and mind frozen with suffocating panic.

"I don't know everything," Alaya admitted sadly. "Six years ago, the watchmen came for Sariya. She was chosen as one of the brides... and she never came back. I don't know what happened to her, but I do know she never became a queen. No one ever did. The king is a sorcerer-he's lived for centuries-and still, there has never been a queen," the woman said gravely.

I stared at her, eyes wide, horror creeping through me.

Wait... a sorcerer?!

So their ruler is some ancient, sick old wizard demanding virgins for wives?!

Oh, that's just wonderful. Now I understand why Manar is so desperate to protect her daughter.

I need to run. Fast.

"Listen," Alaya looked at me with sorrow in her eyes. "You remind me so much of Sariya. I wouldn't wish her fate on you, but escaping from here is truly impossible. Between the roaming lone werewolves and the wild beasts, our valley is surrounded by mountains. There's only one road out through the gorge, and it's guarded. And even if you hide somewhere inside the valley, sooner or later the king's guards will find you."

"Can you read minds?" I asked in surprise-because honestly, at this point, anything seemed possible.

"No," the woman smiled gently. "It's just written all over your face."

"So what am I supposed to do now? Please... tell me everything you know," I pleaded, forgetting even to change my clothes.

"All right," Alaya said firmly. "Get dressed, I'll wait for you in the kitchen. We'll talk."

She stood up and opened the door to leave.

"Alaya!" I called out. She turned to me. "Thank you. And... my name's Isabella. You can just call me Iza."

She gave a faint smile and disappeared down the hall. For a few minutes, I couldn't move, just staring blankly into space. How did I end up here?

I have to learn more about this world-and for that, I'll need someone to trust. Alaya seems like the right person. Maybe I'm a naïve fool for trusting her so easily, but I don't feel any malice or deceit from her. And maybe, because of what happened to her daughter, she'll understand me even more.

Thinking about that made me remember my mother. How worried would she be if I vanished?

But... I did vanish.

Things with my dad had always been a bit tense, but I love them both with all my heart.

I just hope they aren't suffering the way Alaya does.

Maybe... just maybe... there's a way to go home.

Lost in my thoughts, I realized I'd been sitting idle for far too long. Snapping out of it, I quickly dressed in the clothes Alaya had given me and went to the kitchen, where she was already waiting.

"Alaya, please," I begged softly, "tell me everything you know about what awaits me... and about your world."

"I thought as much," Alaya smiled faintly, not the least bit surprised by my request. "You're definitely not from around here. All right, I'll tell you."

From her story, I learned that this world was very different from Earth-yet oddly similar in many ways. It didn't feel like a separate planet, but rather a parallel universe, somehow linked to ours. There were too many uncanny coincidences to ignore.

As we spoke, evening descended outside-or what they called evening. Here, a full day lasts twenty-seven hours, and the nights never turn completely dark. Instead, they glow with a soft twilight, thanks to several moons and a sun that never quite sets.

The brighter celestial light, which fully disappears beyond the horizon, is simply called the Sun. The dimmer one is known as Volar, and it never fully sets-it hovers just above the horizon even at night.

Their planet is also called Earth. The familiar moon we see in the night sky exists here too, but there's another satellite visible both day and night-Latz-larger and shimmering like a jewel in the heavens.

A year still has twelve months, though each month is forty-four days long. Thankfully, hours and seconds match ours perfectly, and the week still consists of seven days with the same names.

It was a strange world indeed, and I felt I had only begun to scratch the surface of it.

"As I told you," Alaya continued, lowering her voice, "our king, Karadeylis, is a great mage."

Now we had reached the part I dreaded most.

"For several centuries he has ruled these lands. Many generations have lived and died under his reign. How he came to power remains shrouded in mystery. Some say he slaughtered the previous royal dynasty and took their throne for himself. Others whisper that he's one of the last descendants of that very bloodline. And then there are those who believe he's cursed-bound to immortality by ancient magic.