My Mate From Another Century

Welcome to the North

My eyes fluttered open as warm sunlight fell across my face.

Wait… ‘Sunlight?’

My eyes snapped open. I looked around in alarm.

I was inside a moving caged caravan with other women. Some wept quietly, while others stared blankly ahead, their spirits long broken. There were about fifteen of us.

Fragments of the previous night rushed back to me.

Instinctively, I slipped my hands beneath my torn dress, feeling around my neck and waist.

Thank goodness… The items were still hidden safely on me. My belongings, however, were gone.

I quickly examined my hands before lifting the hem of my dress to inspect my legs.

Not a single wound remained.

"They're... gone?" I whispered, disbelief washing over me. How am I still alive?

"Are you alright, miss?" an older woman beside me asked gently.

I turned to her, still dazed. "I... how did we get here? Where are we being taken?"

Before she could answer, a booming voice echoed through a speaking tube.

"Welcome to Gravon, district of the Fire Pack— the grand capital of the Kingdom of Velmoria!"

"Gravon..." I murmured, gripping the iron bars as the city unfolded before my eyes.

Bustling streets overflowed with merchants and travelers. Colorful market stalls lined the roads, while elegant stone buildings stretched toward the sky. Towering statues of ancient heroes stood proudly at major intersections, watching over the city like silent guardians.

The caravan rolled deeper into the capital before slowing to a stop before a massive gate built into towering fortress walls.

Our driver climbed down and approached two armored guards.

"Another batch already?" one of them asked.

"I don't waste opportunities to make money," a feminine voice replied from beneath a dark hood.

One of the guards strode toward the caravan, his nose twitched as he sniffed the air.

Instinctively, I stepped back and released my grip on the bars.

His gaze settled on me and a slow, unsettling smile spread across his face before he licked his lips.

"You're free to go," he said.

~

We were ordered out of the caravan and taken to wash. Once we had cleaned ourselves, we were led into a bare room and made to stand in a straight line, dressed only in our undergarments.

Moments later, the caravan rider entered with another woman.

She appeared to be in her thirties, dressed in elegant silver wear and a red sash that marked her as someone of status. Taking the only chair in the room, she studied us with sharp, calculating eyes.

"Undress." The single command left us frozen.

We exchanged uneasy glances, too frightened to move.

"Must she repeat herself?" The caravan rider cracked her whip across the wooden floor. The sharp sound echoed through the room.

One by one, we slowly let our garments fall to our feet.

The woman rose and began inspecting us. She examined our faces, skin, teeth, and posture with the detached precision of someone judging livestock.

"Too old," she said of one woman. "She won't last long." The woman in question couldn't have been much older than her.

I was ninth in line.

When she stopped before me, I caught her scent. A werewolf with no elemental affinity. Most of the women here were the same, except for two of us— myself, who possessed no wolf at all, and the caravan rider, whose gray eyes marked her as a Wind werewolf.

The woman's hands briefly checked for scars and injuries before she tilted my chin upward.

"Open." I parted my lips while she examined my teeth.

As she brushed my black waves behind my shoulder, her eyes narrowed. "A scar..."

Her fingers traced the faded knife mark on my cheek.

The room fell silent.

"You brought me damaged goods?" The words cut deeper than any blade.

I wasn't a person to her. I was merchandise.

"Easy, Mistress Hadassah," the caravan rider replied. "Had I known about the scar, I'd have left her by the river."

So that's how I'd ended up in the caravan.

Mistress Hadassah clicked her tongue and stepped away. "I can't take her."

Silence hung between the two women before the caravan rider sighed.

"Then pay me half the usual price. I didn't spend a coin acquiring her, so we'll both save something." She concluded, winking at her.

Hadassah considered the offer before giving a reluctant nod. "Fine. But don't bring me damaged stock again."

"You have my word."

Twelve of us were led to collect the few belongings that had been taken from us.

"The clothes you arrived in won't be returned," the woman behind the counter said flatly.

"What about my pouch?" I asked, unable to hide the urgency in my voice.

She studied me before retrieving a small green pouch from a drawer. "What are these pills for?"

"My monthly cycle," I answered without hesitation.

She eyed me suspiciously. "Prove it."

She opened the pouch and held out one of the white pills. "Take one."

I swallowed it immediately.

Several minutes later, a man approached the counter.

"All clear." Without another word, he walked away.

"The alchemist examined the pills," the woman explained. "You're cleared."

She stamped a seal onto a small wooden tag and handed it to me. "You'll be taken to the general maids' dormitory."

Her expression remained unreadable. "Welcome to Velmoria... Maidservant Asphodel.”

The wooden tag felt unusually heavy in my hand as I followed the others through a long hallway.

Then I saw it— The royal castle!

Perched atop a gentle rise overlooking the capital, it stood like the heart of Velmoria itself. Its towering white-stone walls shimmered beneath the afternoon sun, while crimson flags danced proudly atop countless spires. Sunlight reflected from its tall windows, making the entire palace appear almost ethereal.

Even from where I stood, I could see armored knights patrolling its outer walls with disciplined precision.

It was magnificent.

Beautiful.

Untouchable.

"So..." I whispered to myself. "This is where the royal family lives."

A female guard noticed my lingering gaze.

"Don't stare," she said coldly. "Servants who forget their place don't last long."

I lowered my eyes and continued walking.

The glamour of the castle faded with every step.

Soon we stopped before a long brick building with faded walls and narrow windows.

"The servants' dormitory," a woman announced as she pushed open the doors.

Inside, rows of simple bunk beds filled the room. There were no chandeliers, no polished floors, no luxurious furniture— only the bare necessities.

A stern-looking woman stepped forward, she was the same mistress from the inspection.

"I am the Head Maid, Hadassah." Her sharp eyes swept across the new arrivals.

"From this moment onward, you belong to the royal household. You will rise before dawn, obey every order, and speak only when spoken to." She paused, allowing her words to settle.

"At first light tomorrow, your duties will be assigned."

Silence filled the room.

As the other girls quietly settled onto their beds, I lay awake, staring at the wooden ceiling.

Beyond these walls stood the magnificent palace that ruled the kingdom.

And somehow… I had a feeling my fate was waiting for me there.