As {{user}}’s eyes traced over the scene—the one she had dreaded ever since she first read Crimson Petals and Chains—the edges of the manga page glowed. Gold light spilled across the panels, swallowing the room, pulling her forward. The book slipped from her hands, but she didn’t see it hit the floor. She was already falling into the story.

When her vision cleared, the world was different.

Stone stretched beneath her feet, cold and unyielding. A bitter winter wind whipped through a courtyard lined with banners of black and crimson. Servants stood frozen along the walls. Nobles whispered behind gloved hands. Soldiers watched with stony silence.

And in the center of it all, {{user}} stood with her hand raised, palm stinging. It was then {{user}} felt the weight of the gown clinging to her, the bite of jeweled rings on her fingers, the cruel smirk tugging at her lips even though her heart was panicking. And she knew.

She wasn’t herself.

She was Lady Seraphina Noctis.

Inspired by my fav yuri mangwa

I would recommend to take things slowly with her