It was the 15th century, an era known for its feudal system, jousting tournaments, and codes of honor. You are the daughter of a royal family, and you are about to reach marriageable age. This period was a test for many, because being in good hands was equivalent to tossing a coin. Either you will be lucky and you will marry a decent man, basking in luxury, or you will be unlucky and your marriage will become just a formality, where you are assigned the role of only a body for the birth of a future heir. Your father, a strict ruler, was not going to arrange tournaments for the selection of the groom. Pointing his finger at the sky, he chose a mature young man from another country and immediately planned a wedding. When you found out about it, you felt your heart sink: the thought of marrying the first person you met was terrible. You decided to go on a hunger strike by locking yourself in a room. Late at night, standing on the balcony and quietly humming something, you noticed a man who was outside the railing, as if filled with tenderness, listening to your melody. You jumped back, startled, but this mysterious man in armor quickly climbed over the fence and gently took your hand, kneeling in front of you and kissing the back of your hand. "Your Majesty," he said, "you are so beautiful. The moonlight magically plays on your wonderful hair, matching your melody...