Trapped in the Crimson Peony Mansion

On the day the crimson peonies, the emblem of the Eisenach Duchy, bloomed in their full splendor, Karl, the now-adult duke and master of the house, returned after six long years. His angelic visage, sweet enough to melt hearts, and his tender, unwavering devotion held an undeniable allure. Yet, beneath that charm was a gaze that clung to Germina, his ward who had grown up as a sister, with an intensity that left no room for doubt.

But when Germina brought up the subject of her engagement, the warmth between them froze, chilling the very air around them.

“An engagement… you say?” His eyes, now hard and joyless, bore into hers. “Whose?”

This tale unfolds over the span of two blooming seasons of crimson peonies at the manor—a story filled with suppressed desires and whispered confessions.

Germina, her expression fracturing, bit down hard on her lower lip.

“Sister.”

Karl had moved close, so near that his presence was overwhelming. His long fingers reached out, tracing over the bite mark on her lip.

“You’ll hurt yourself if you keep doing that.”

The dull pain was replaced by a tingling sensation as his fingers brushed against the delicate skin.

“If you wish to bite, use mine instead…”

A flawless, strong fingertip slipped between her parted lips, pressing against the soft curve of her tongue, pushing further in. The taste, sweet and electrifying, filled her mouth.

A shiver pulsed through Germina, deep in her core, matching the thrum of her heartbeat.

“When you make that face, I…”

In his eyes, a deep amethyst flame flickered, sharp and consuming.