I stood before the mirror, watching my own reflection. My grandmother made me realize that beauty is very important - a beauty that all women dream of, but only a few possess; a beauty that no one else can ever take away.

I don't know why preserving my beauty was so crucial to my grandmother. Yes, I understand it's natural for a woman to care for her beauty, but my grandmother's methods were truly hair-raising. If I hadn't been with her for so long, I might have thought she was preparing me to be offered to some powerful person. Damn these thoughts.

My grandmother raised me with countless teachings, sermons I heard almost every day until I memorized them from her repeated reminders.

"Mirror, mirror on the wall, who is the most gorgeous woman of all?" I asked my grandmother's huge antique mirror, which seemed to answer my questions at any moment.

"You, Claret Cordelia Amor," I replied to my own reflection. My answer brought a smile to my lips. I'm going crazy.

"Claret! Come down! You're going to be late for your class!" Grandma's yell startled me, so I quickly combed my short hair, barely touching my shoulders. I also put on my glasses, as I'm a woman with very blurred vision.

So what? I'm a beautiful girl with glasses. I hurried out of my room and almost ran to the kitchen. Grandma still doesn't like me being late for class.

"Good morning, Grandma!" I greeted my beloved grandmother with a kiss on her cheek. She was busy mixing what she was cooking.

"Take it easy and eat. You know I don't want you to go hungry; it's not good for your body." I just nodded at Grandma's words. Here we go again, my sensitive body.

My food awaited me on the table. For Grandma, I'm like a fragile thing that can't be scratched or marred. She removes anything that could harm my beauty and provides everything to maintain it. Sometimes I refuse what she gives me to avoid troubling her, but she insists. Sometimes she even threatens me, leaving me no choice but to comply with her wishes.

"Grandma, my 18th birthday is coming up. Can you give me a present?" I joked.

I frowned when I noticed she was slightly taken aback by my words. Did I say something wrong? Wasn't she happy that I was coming of age? I am now a full-fledged young woman.

"I'll give you a gift if you maintain your cleanliness and purity," Grandma said. I laughed at her words. How many times have I heard these from her?

"Come on, Grandma, I know that. You raised me well; I will never flirt with any man there," I said, growing tired while chewing soft bread.

I'm just a simple girl with a simple life. We're not rich, don't own various cars, or hold stocks in famous companies. I'm certainly not a girl raised in luxury.

I am a simple girl from a small but very happy family. My grandmother never made me feel like our family was incomplete. Despite being raised by her, I know and feel her love for me, which cannot be matched by a father or mother.

My grandmother is the most wonderful thing that has happened to me. I will do anything to please her. Following her guidance is also my way of reciprocating her love.

My parents? I never even met them. My father died when my mother was pregnant with me. My mother lives in another country and has her own family. Sometimes my parents cross my mind, but what can I do? One is dead, and the other abandoned me.

Anyway, I have my grandmother. I don't care about my mother anymore.

I live in the mountains, with a very cold climate. The mountain is famous for its medicinal plants and rare trees that rarely grow.

I'm in a simple paradise. A peaceful paradise, a quiet paradise, a paradise that makes my heart flutter.

How I love the scent of nature. I belong to nature. Sometimes I think maybe I'm really a fairy that my grandma forgot in these mountains. I just grin.

I've grown reserved. My grandmother instilled in me the idea that a man would come to the top of this mountain to take me and marry me. The man destined for me, the man to whom I should only devote my attention, The man who can claim my lips. Every time I think about it, I can't help but touch my red lips.

What does it feel like to be kissed? Sometimes I see a couple kissing in the locker room, and based on their actions, they seem to love and enjoy it.

Is it great to exchange saliva with someone? I just shake my head, thinking about it. It might be a virgin's problem.

Grandma told me several times that I should only reveal my complexion to this man. The man who has been ingrained in my mind since I can remember.

Who would believe that? I never saw his face. Is this man real? Why doesn't he even show himself to me? Am I not pretty enough for him to reveal himself right away?

Is he handsome? Is he masculine? Does he have a good body?

At first, I was afraid of what my grandmother was saying. I feel like a fat pig who has to maintain quality for the deadline.

Every few weeks, my grandmother used to soak me in pure cow's milk to keep my complexion beautiful. If my complexion is compared to that of actresses who have been to famous beauty doctors several times, it's not a trivial matter to caress my complexion. Grandma is also serious about keeping my body in good shape. She knows what foods I should and shouldn't eat, and she also wakes me up early for exercise and whatnot.

I feel like I'm living to participate in a beauty pageant. But Grandma never once accepted the invitations I received for beauty competitions. Her reasoning was that it wasn't a good idea. Ignoring a woman's inner beauty is not commendable.

I stopped arguing and just agreed with her.

At school, I was known as the "Granddaughter of a Witch." Yes, my grandmother is a beautiful witch. We are the renowned witches of Mt. Impressive. My story isn't a typical witch tale with traditions of burning rituals and other bizarre practices.

Today's people aren't like those from the past who would immediately burn witches alive upon discovery. My grandmother is skilled in treating diseases. We aren't seen as a plague in the mountains because no plague can thrive here. Mt. Malondogo is a mountain of life because of my grandmother, and I'm immensely proud of her.

Knowing that I was the granddaughter of a witch, no one dared to approach me. They were all afraid of my grandmother, as it was rumored that the first man who approached me couldn't sleep for a week due to nightmares.

"Go home early, Claret; you need to soak your body again in pure milk," Grandma told me seriously. If I weren't used to her, my hair would probably stand on end.

"Yes, grandma," I answered enthusiastically. I drank the milk she gave me before standing up and bidding her goodbye.

I quickly took my bicycle, which she always prepared every morning.

"Be careful; don't scratch yourself," she reminded me.

"Yes, grandma!" I grinned at her again before getting on my bike. As I started pedaling, Grandma called out. Did I forget something?

"Claret! You forgot to tell me something," I winced as I remembered what I always told her. I almost forgot.

"I won't let them touch me. Just let them stare until they die," Grandma nodded at what I said, and I continued pedaling my bike.

I shook my head. Every day, that's what I always say before leaving the house. Maybe I'm the most innocent of all virgins. At least not yet.

I can't be held by any man or stared at for too long because as soon as they stare at me for a long time, they will be immediately struck. Damn, I no longer care about men in the environment.

But what I'm wondering now is why I have to take a milk bath again later. It's like Grandma just bathed me the other day. Weird.

I shrugged at my own question and continued pedaling.

Despite not owning any property, I can say that my grandmother and I are capable because the vast land on this mountain is filled with my grandmother's crops, which provide food and medicinal plants for the people.

My grandma is kind to people; just don't touch me. Lola treats me like a delicate object that cannot be handled lightly. So they're sorry until they just stare at me, and that's if they can.

Next week is my birthday, and my grandmother said I will meet the man I will love and who will love me. Is that possible? Love at first sight? Could it be him too? Was he raised too reserved? Was he also raised with knowledge of me?

Is he a good kisser? I feel my cheeks heat up as I think about it.

"Claret," I suddenly stopped when I heard a male voice in my right ear.

I looked around. Where did that voice come from? I was the only person, and I was sure I heard a man's voice. What the hell?

I marveled at the noise from above. Many black birds were flying. I rarely see so many black birds in these mountains.

"Crows," I stammered. My hair rose, and I started pedaling again.

Maybe I just imagined what I heard.

After my long and exhausting class, I hurried home from the university. I was accustomed to walking alone at night, unafraid of being accosted, probably because people feared my grandmother. However, when I began hearing an unfamiliar voice, especially when alone, that's when I started feeling nervous and scared. I tried to convince myself it was just exhaustion-induced hallucinations, but the voice calling my name grew increasingly persistent. Maybe I should ask Grandma about this, but she doesn't want me to worry. Damn.

What can I do? And if what I hear is real, who is this man? I sense real presence behind the voice I hear. But what else am I sensing now? Is it no longer effective? Shit! Is this really the effect of being the granddaughter of a witch?

I shook my head and continued pedaling my bike. If I compare my current pedaling to how I used to, I can say I've tripled my speed. Why does it always feel like someone is watching me from behind?

"Fuck! Stop it, Claret! Don't scare yourself," I muttered aloud. My heart wasn't beating right anymore. Why was I so nervous? These unsettling occurrences started when I turned seventeen, and I don't know if I should look forward to my upcoming birthday if these feelings persist. I don't feel good anymore.

Lost in my thoughts, I didn't realize I had arrived at our ancient house, which was probably ten times older than me. I was surprised to see black cars parked outside. Why were there so many cars here today? If I counted, there were five to seven cars parked in front of our house.

Please don't tell me they're here to buy herbs from my grandmother. I shrugged and parked my bike. I noticed our three dogs, looking uneasy as they were tied up. My brow furrowed; Grandma rarely tied them up.

"Hush," I bent down slightly to quiet them.

"Be good, babies. Maybe you're tied up because there are people here; I'll untie you when they leave," I whispered softly to Red, White, and Blue. They seemed to understand, as they stopped barking.

"Good boys," I caressed them again before standing up and heading inside the house.

As I reached for the doorknob, I heard my grandmother's voice. From her tone today, I could tell she was nervous. Who was she talking to?

"She's underage!" Even though she was shouting, I could sense Grandma's nervousness.

I wanted to join her inside to confront these people, but I hesitated. I chose to eavesdrop because questions were forming in my mind. What were they discussing?

"Miss Olivia, the second prince is not doing well. He needs her." What the hell? Was there a play happening inside our house? Was our house chosen as the set for some ancient drama? And why did they mention my grandmother's name? I don't understand.

"We need to discuss something, Dastan! We need to talk; my granddaughter is not yet an adult! Don't take my granddaughter away from me. I'm not ready," shit! What? Why were they talking about taking me? Who was the second prince? What nonsense was I hearing?

"Miss Olivia! Please consider the first prince," another voice said coldly. What the fuck? Was I in the right house?

"Olivia, Cordelia's eighteenth birthday is just a few hours away. What's different now? My brother needs her; Zen's life won't last long if your granddaughter stays away from him. You know more about this than anyone, Leon," I listened intently to this strange conversation. My grandfather's name was Leon; who was Zen? Who was this Dastan? Why was it necessary? Zen needed my blood? Weren't blood banks a thing for them? Why did they care about my eighteenth birthday?

Before anyone else could speak, I took a deep breath and boldly opened the door to the house. My grandmother's eyes widened when she saw me, while all the handsome men in black coats stared intently at me.

"Claret," Grandma called out, her voice strained. I couldn't meet Grandma's eyes because of my disdain for the people inside our old house.

Only three individuals were dressed differently, wearing clothes similar to mine. A man with gray hair, not much older than me, grinned widely at me. But there was something odd about his eyes; I couldn't quite grasp it. If he got lost at my university, the girls would probably mistake him for a professor.

Another person who caught my attention was a man sitting down, exuding authority and power. I tried to look away from him because the longer I stared, the harder it was to avert my gaze; he was oddly mesmerizing for no apparent reason.

The last person I noticed was a strikingly beautiful woman with long hair, who was also staring at me, her expression unreadable.

"She's been listening outside for a while now. She's beautiful," the man who had been smiling at me remarked quickly. I furrowed my brow when he winked at me. What the hell?

"Damn! Do you think Zen will like her? She's artistic. Her chest is small. Zen prefers bigger boobs," lazily commented the woman next to the seated man. What the fuck? Who was this Zen? Who were these weirdos I was facing? Why did they care about the size of my boobs? And furthermore, I didn't care if Zen liked me or not, as they put it. Fuck.

"Who are they, Grandma?" I approached my grandmother, who was at a loss for words.

"Guests," she answered shortly. They were unwelcome.

"Are they rehearsing a play?" I raised an eyebrow at them. I wasn't going to enjoy their performance.

"It seems she won't come with us, Dastan; should I just force her? I feel sorry for Zen," I was alarmed when the man who had been smiling at me began walking towards me. What were they planning to force? What was going to happen? I was utterly bewildered.

"Grandma? Who are they? I don't like what they're talking about. I don't understand! Fuck! Don't come near me! Why me? You look rich; why do you need more blood? There are many blood banks! Take it there! I'm not willing to donate." My voice was panicked. With the number of them, Grandma and I were sure they were not against us, and if we asked for help, it would take them a long time to get here. I felt Grandma standing in front of me.

"Why doesn't Olivia know yet?" The man sitting down asked seriously. Know? Is there anything I should know? I was surprised by this chaotic conversation. I couldn't stop admiring the man named Dastan when he suddenly stood up. Yes, the previous man was also really good-looking, but the charisma and presence of the man staring at me now were different. Gorgeous wouldn't do his features goddamn justice.

"Oh, oh. Dastan, she's drooling over you. She is Zen's property; lessen your charm, your highness," said the gray-haired man, laughing. No one owns me.

"Shut up, Caleb; continue, big brother. Don't mind this jerk," said the woman, irritated. So these three are brothers; that's why they look so different.

Their so-called majesty ignored them and kept staring at me. I was the one who opened his eyes; why does it seem like as time goes on, his gaze gets deeper? Why does something seem strange in their eyes?

"Is the second prince sick?" I was surprised by my grandmother's question. What were they really talking about? What country are they from? What other country has a king and queen? Why did they come to this mountain?

"He's dying. Our brother is dying, Olivia," quickly answered the woman behind.

"Your Highness, let me first explain to my granddaughter. Don't worry, and she herself will come for the second prince." I shook my head at the pace of this conversation. Is my own grandmother giving me away to a 'prince' who is going to die? Why does she call the man 'his majesty'? Why are they talking like this?

"When will she go? Zen is going to die! If those old ladies can't be brought to a good conversation, I'll finish Dastan!" I just backed away when the angry woman's eyes suddenly turned red. I just closed my eyes in shock. What was that? And when I looked at her eyes again, they were black again. Was I imagining things?

"Lily!" the man named Dastan said authoritatively. The girl named Lily immediately bowed.

"I'm sorry," the woman answered weakly.

"Dastan, let's go to get that girl here. We can't let our brother die waiting for her 18th birthday. Let me get some blood from her; Zen badly needs her blood." I immediately blocked the hand of the man named Dastan before the man who was supposed to draw blood from me could get close to me. I had been getting goosebumps throughout this conversation. There are so many people with blood in this country; why me?

"Can I count on your promise, Olivia?" 'Dastan' asked emphatically.

"Yes, your majesty." My grandmother barely bowed to answer him. What the hell was going on? Why did my grandmother know them?

"Good, can I talk to her before we leave?" He glanced at me, and I immediately struggled with the idea.

"No! I won't talk to him, grandma. I won't go with them, grandma; I'm confused. I don't like them; I won't go. I won't donate blood," I answered firmly.

"Claret," Grandma squeezed my arm slightly before she turned and headed to the kitchen. What the hell? She was leaving me with these people.

"Grandma!!" I was about to take a step to chase Grandma when the man grabbed my waist.

"What the fuck!? Let go of me!" I shouted at him, struggling.

"Grandma!" I tried to turn to Grandma, but she didn't look at me. When I faced the man they called 'mahamal' again, I immediately noticed that there was no one behind him. Why so fast? Why did they all disappear?

"I don't know what your relationship is with my grandmother. But I will not go with you. I never thought that I would leave her here. Not in a million ways," I said to him seriously. He let go of me on his own; I just stayed standing because I knew that Grandma would bring me back if I turned my back on this man.

"Your path is not in this place, Cordelia Amor; your path is in our world." If I were in a different situation, I would just laugh at what he said. What did he mean? But I didn't laugh; the hairs on my body stood on end.

There was something about this man.

"What is your brother's blood type? My blood type is not rare, and you can find many people with the same blood type as mine. I am also not willing to donate. Just tell him to stay strong; I'm not the person you're looking for," I answered him.

"I'm not there."

"As soon as you have an explanation, let me know, 'our family will welcome you.'" I was surprised when the back of his hand lightly caressed my cheek. I immediately retreated so that we could keep our distance. No one can touch me.

"I don't understand," I said with difficulty.

"And up until now, I am still confused; I am the first born. the future king, but you're not destined for me." He slightly shook his head at what he said and smiled at me.

"I need to go. Maybe the next time we meet, you won't need to wear glasses. My brother's venom will definitely make you gorgeous as hell," he said, turning his back on me while I was stunned by what he said. Venom? King? I'm a mess. But the last thing he said really insulted me.

I took another deep breath before speaking again.

"Are you saying I'm not beautiful, 'your majesty'?" He stopped walking because of what I said, and he faced me again with a look of interest.

"Did I say something? I'm sorry," I thought he was going to dismiss what he said when he came closer to me, and I didn't realize that he already held my right hand.

"Let me introduce myself. I am Dastan Lancelot Gazellian; I may not have that spade birthmark, "But I can make you the queen, beautiful Claret Cordelia Amor." My eyes just widened when he bent slightly and kissed the back of my hand.

I quickly snatched my hand from him.

"I'm just kidding," he said curtly. but could not find the word joke in the coldness of his speech.

"Close your eyes."

"Why woul-" I couldn't finish what I was supposed to say when my eyelids fell on their own, and I slipped into a deep sleep.