Chapter 1

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.