The table in the middle of the castle garden was set for a tea party. A heavy scent of roses lingered in the air, competing with the spicy aroma of the tea, while Ryan, a fox beastman, tasted something entirely different on his tongue.
Servants had draped a white lace-trimmed tablecloth over the table. Upon it stood three-tiered cake stands, almost artistically arranged, filled with delicate little cakes and confections. All in pastel colors, they promised one sweet explosion of flavor after another.
The expensive blue-and-white porcelain was carefully laid out and shimmered in the light of the afternoon sun.
And in the midst of this tea ensemble lay Mirabelle Luchs.
Her wild curls spread across plates and among the tempting desserts. Her dress was pushed up to her hips, her legs bent and braced against the edge of the table, trembling. Elegant male hands pressed them farther apart while she desperately tried to close them.
Between her legs was the head of a man. His pointed fox ears twitched with amusement as his tongue moved over her again and again.
Fine porcelain and practiced elegance surrounded her, a fragile illusion of order that shattered with every involuntary sound she could no longer suppress.
The scent of roses blurred into something distant, drowned out by the overwhelming heat spreading through Mirabelle's body, until all she could feel was the trembling pull inside her.
Desperately, she grasped his copper-colored hair — whether to stop him or to hold on, she no longer knew. Another shudder ran through her, and a purr mingled with the birds' song.
While he savored his dessert with pleasure, Mirabelle wondered how it had ever come to this.
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A few days earlier
Had you ever imagined falling asleep and waking up somewhere else? Perhaps in another world, or in the body of another person?
Mirabelle had not. She was content with her life. After finishing her studies, she secured her dream job and just took the next step in her perfectly planned future: the search for Mr. Right. It was not as easy as she expected, but Mirabelle was a determined woman. She always got what she wanted. Manifesting a dream life?
That was exactly what she believed she was doing.
Her confusion was immense when she opened her eyes and stared at high stucco ceilings. Blankets as soft as clouds surrounded her, and when she reached out, she could not feel the end of the bed.
This was not her three-room attic apartment. Nor was it her narrow bed.
She sat up abruptly and found herself in a room larger than her entire apartment.
Mirabelle's certainty about her life shattered in an instant, leaving only a sharp, breathless confusion as the unfamiliar room pressed in on her.
In awe, she looked around. The room was divided into several areas: a seating corner with a small table, bookshelves, and a small desk in front of a huge window. Armchairs stood on a soft carpet before wide glass doors leading to a balcony.
White, elegant furniture gave the entire room something… princess-like.
As beautiful as it was, Mirabelle did not recognize any of it.
Unconsciously, she clenched her hands.
A strange tension crept through her arms, as if her body already knew something her mind had not yet dared to grasp.
Only then did she become aware of the pressure against the fabric beneath her fingers.
Shocked, she stared at her hands, from whose fingertips claws protruded, cutting into the soft blanket.
Those… those were not her hands.
Before she consciously decided what to do, she was already out of the bed and tore open the first of three doors leading out of the room.
She found herself in a dressing room. Although calling it a room was an understatement. How many clothes could one person possibly own?
With long strides, she crossed the space and stopped in front of a mirror that covered the entire wall.
And stood face to face with a naked woman.
She stared and stared — at a face that did not belong to her. A faint growl escaped her throat.
Startled, she clapped her hands over her mouth. The creature in the mirror did the same. The claws retracted in a flash, as if this body knew how to protect itself.
Confused, Mirabelle examined her fingertips. There was no sign of where the claws came from — or where they went.
Carefully, she lifted her hand to her cheek. On both sides, black lines ran along her cheekbones. Like tattoos. Except they looked as though the skin itself had a different color there.
Her eyes were framed in black as well. Not makeup, but darker skin. Her whole skin carried a faint golden shimmer, completely unlike Mirabelle's own pale complexion.
Between long black lashes, eyes like liquid gold stared back at her.
"So beautiful," she whispered — and startled at the sound of her own voice. It was deeper, more melodic.
Not her own.
Her hands moved to her hair. Wild curls sprang in every direction, mostly warm blond and brown tones, interwoven with white and dark brown strands. It looked untamed.
And it matched the two ears on her head.
Brown, with black tufts at the tips.
She tilted her head.
Like a lynx, she thought, grinning at the coincidence of her surname's meaning. Her smile revealed two rows of pristine fangs.
Amused, her tail swayed back and forth.
Wait.
Mirabelle grabbed the twitching thing and growled in pain when she squeezed too hard. A tail?
Clumsily, she turned in a circle, trying to see it in the mirror without letting go. The tip twitched irritably. Without it, she realized, keeping her balance was difficult. She let go.
Indeed — there, just above her backside, a tail extended from her spine.
"Incredible."
She stood there for a moment longer, breathing slowly, forcing herself to take in every detail. The unfamiliar weight of her body, the subtle pull of muscles she had never felt before, the way her balance shifted without conscious effort. None of it felt like a dream. This body reacted, adjusted, existed
She pinched her arm.
The pain shot through her like a bolt of lightning, sharp and undeniable. It tore a sound from her throat — and with it, something else broke loose. The sensation did not fade as it should have. Instead, it opened a door she had not known existed.
Then images flooded her mind. Knowledge. Memories.
Dizziness overtook her, and she braced herself against the mirror before slowly sinking to the floor.
Transmigration was not on her bingo card for this year.