Under a Dimmed Sun [UNCENSORED]

SI: Chapter I: A Dance of Shadows and Roses

The Wode Castle's grand halls echoed with the sounds of revelry, celebrating the homecoming of the sole heir of the Wode family from his study. The banquet hall overflowed with nobles adorned in rich fabrics, and the air hummed with anticipation and festivity.

As the medieval feast unfolded, John the Merchant engaged Lady Beatrix, Temporary Viscountess in negotiations, presenting the treasures from Flanders and England—furs, wool, and exotic spices that stirred the senses. Amidst the political dance, Alice, an unwitting guest in this labyrinth of power, wandered the castle gardens, her eyes wide with wonder.

Having lost her mother at a tender age, Alice grew up without the guidance of a maternal figure, navigating the complexities of life alongside her father and older brother. Unversed in the ways of courtly manners, she found herself enchanted by the castle's garden, a sanctuary of blooming roses and hidden mysteries.

In a secluded spot, beneath the shade of an ancient tree, Alice discovered a figure that seemed to slumber in the serenity of the garden. With a heart untainted by the intricacies of courtly life, she approached the sleeping young man, brushing away dry leaves from his tousled locks.

This young man graced the landscape with a Mediterranean charm. His handsome face, thick brows, long eyelashes, pointy nose, carried the warmth of the region's glow. Dark brown waves of hair framed his visage like an intricate painting.

A clean-shaven countenance highlighted his features, adding a touch of sophistication to his overall presence. Tall and muscular, Peter moved through the world with an easy grace, embodying the perfect blend of strength and elegance.

As if stirred from a medieval reverie, Peter of Wode, the heir with shadows in his eyes, awoke abruptly. His grasp on Alice's hands startled her, and their eyes locked in an unexpected dance of innocence and uncertainty. In that moment, amidst the fragrance of blooming roses, their worlds collided.

His brown eyes, subtly tinged with a yellow glow as if reflecting the sunlight, held a depth that hinted at untold stories.

John, Alice's father, rushed to the scene, apologizing profusely to Peter, recognizing the significance of the dark brown-haired young man in the hierarchy of nobility. He addressed Peter, "My deepest apologies, My Lord. My daughter lacks the grace of courtly manners. She's a mere merchant's child, unaccustomed to the subtleties of noble gatherings."

"I... I apologize, My Lord. I didn't mean to intrude," stammered Alice, her cheeks flushing.

The viscount's heir, Peter, acknowledged the apology with a nod, his gaze lingering on Alice's bewildered eyes. Peter, still holding Alice's hands, replied with a measured tone, "No offense taken, Master Merchant. It seems innocence is a rarity in these noble halls."

With a parting glance, Alice was forcibly led away, her father explaining the lack of etiquette lessons for young ladies, a consequence of her mother's untimely departure. As she retreated, the gaze between Alice and Peter lingered, a connection forged in the medieval tapestry of a budding romance, innocence lost, and the inevitable clash of their disparate worlds.