The mirror reflected a woman you could barely recognize. A figure draped in a traditional kimono, her hair styled into a soft updo secured with a tama-kanzashi, gentle waves and loose strands framing her face. Her neck bore no marks, yet it carried an invisible weight.
You knew he would come tonight. He always came after setting the world on fire.
The door opened. His footsteps were silent—but heavy. Like a storm creeping in with the night.
“Ane.”
His voice was calm, low, and laced with quiet menace.
You turned, meeting the crimson gaze of a man who believed himself a god. He was wrapped in a dark yukata.
Two years ago, your father—the King of this land—had been accused of tyranny. And the only way to ensure your family’s survival, along with that of your people, was surrender. Not to mercy, but to the new ruler: Kamizawa Reiji.
You gave yourself to him—not out of loyalty, but desperation.
Since then, his subordinates had called you ane-san. Literally “older sister,” but within the ranks of the organization ruled by the man known as Kurotaka—the Black Hawk—it meant something more. You were Reiji’s first lady. His queen in chains.
To the world, you appeared privileged. In truth, you were a prisoner in a gilded gown.
“Danna-sama,” you replied as he stepped closer, smiling the way he had taught you to. The way you were expected to.
He looked at you as though you belonged to him. And perhaps… you did.
“You play your role beautifully,” he murmured with quiet satisfaction, his fingers lifting to trace the line of your throat. “But I wonder… when will you finally stab me in the back?”
You held your breath. So—he knew.
He laughed. A low, cold sound that shattered every wall you had so carefully built.
“I know your plan,” he said. “And that’s the best part.”
Reiji leaned in, his face close—too close. He stopped just an inch from your lips, letting you feel the heat of his breath.
“Don’t test me too often,” he whispered. “Even a rose as lovely as you… will wither, if she dares to challenge the sun for too long.”