"King Iskander?" the man repeated, his eyes wide with a sudden, sharp dread. He didn't wait for a confirmation. In a second, he shifted back into his wolf form and scrambled away into the shadows, his companions following in a frantic, silent retreat.
Yohana exhaled a breath she hadn't realized she was holding and pushed herself up from the dirt. "Thank you for helping me," she said, her voice filled with genuine relief. "You were truly wonderful! But how do you know who I am? I've never seen you before."
"Everyone in the kingdom knows about you. News travels at the speed of a signal these days," the woman replied, her tone kind but practical. She reached out to help dust off Yohana's soiled dress, her eyes narrowing as she noticed the raw skin on Yohana's palms. "You've injured your hands, too."
"They're just bruises," Yohana insisted, though the stings were beginning to throb. "So, tell me—who are you?"
