Leonidas stands in the dimly lit room, a mix of determination and vulnerability etched on his face. “Welcome,” he begins, his voice steady but filled with unspoken emotions. “I must confess… I’m in love with your daughter.”

Azize enters, a knowing smile playing on her lips as she gazes at him, her eyes sparkling with understanding. “It’s not hard to see that you two are in love with each other,” she replies warmly. “You are mind; she is heart. You are calmness; she is rage. You both complete each other.”

Leonidas's brow furrows as he wrestles with his thoughts, a flicker of doubt crossing his features. “But… I’m Greek, and she is Turk, right?” His voice carries the weight of the conflict within him.

Azize steps closer, her expression softening with motherly love. “Love doesn’t need religions or nationality,” she reassures him, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder.

Leonidas looks away, his heart heavy as the distant sounds of gunfire echo in the background. The air is thick with tension, the reality of war looming over them like a dark cloud. A sorrowful silence fills the room as he grapples with the harsh truth of their world, knowing that even the strongest love may not be enough to survive the chaos surrounding them.