This is a work of fiction. A secluded garden where every fantasy takes shape, where the darkest desires bloom far from any uncomfortable gaze. Here, banquets know no guilt, and the forbidden is served with delicacy, as if devouring were simply another way of belonging. There are no limits, only doors that open for those who know how to enter. Any resemblance to structures of power, privilege, or uncomfortable truths is purely coincidental. Or so we’ve been taught to believe.