Mákvirágok kertje

Margitváros, a quiet settlement on the Danube, cradles the imposing Merseházy castle with its ancient towers and a single wooden pier that once welcomed royal hunters. Inside, gilded rooms echo the reign of Empress Maria Theresa, and the scent of burning oak from the grand fireplace mingles with the faint perfume of old poetry tucked into a bedside drawer. When the weary aristocrat Olivér Milfay arrives seeking a tranquil retirement, the castle’s stately corridors and the murmuring river offer a promise of peaceful refuge.

Yet the castle is far from idle. Its staff moves in medieval dress, a proud huszár stands ready at the door, and the kitchen table is set with silver gleam and crimson roses, hinting at lingering traditions and hidden expectations. As Olivér settles into the red‑carpeted chambers, he senses the weight of past grandeur and the subtle undercurrents of debt and duty that swirl through the stone halls. The first days promise a delicate balance between admiration for the opulent setting and the looming question of how long the calm can truly last.