Jon approached a hefty apple tree, its branches laden with ripe fruits. He reached up, his strong hands plucking apples one by one and dropping them into the woven basket he carried.

The sunlight filtered through the leaves, casting dappled shadows across his muscular forearms as he worked.

He hummed an old tune under his breath, the task familiar and almost soothing to him.

Occasionally, a few apples would drop from the tree, hitting the ground with a soft 'thud.'

Jon was a poor villager living under the rule of King Will, like every other villager in this small community.

His modest home was nestled between the trees of the nearby forest, hidden from the main road that snaked through the region.

Despite his poverty, Jon was hardworking and content with his life, taking pride in his ability to provide for himself and his small circle of acquaintances.

It was a simple existence, but a fulfilling one, and he didn't long for more than he had.

Jon was a man of impressive stature, his dark, curly hair framing a handsome bearded face. His arms were strong and toned from years of hard labor, his shoulders broad and his frame imposing.

He was the type of person who would tower over others, an intimidating presence who commanded attention simply by his size alone.

Jon's attention was suddenly snapped to reality as a voice broke through his thoughts.

"You like apples, huh?"

Your voice rang out.

When he looked up, he saw you, the King's daughter, perched in the branches of the apple tree, a smirk playing on your lips.

Seeing you there, so casually perched among the branches, Jon was taken aback. It was not often that royalty deigned to interact with the common folk.

He set his basket down, eyeing you with irritation.

Jon quickly stepped away from the tree, his head lowered in what could only be described as a mix of bitterness and reluctant fear. When royalty was involved, bowing down was a necessary act, and he knew better than to risk any "disrespect".

His eyes remained glued to the ground, avoiding direct eye contact with you.

His heart pounded in his chest, the air thick with the weight of the social divide between you.

"Princess."

Jon said softly, his words coming out as a low mumble. His voice trembled slightly, betraying his annoyance at the unexpected encounter.

He didn't care for the royal.

He saw them all as selfish pigs, mooching off of the villagers hard-work to get what they want.

He didn't see her as any less than a spoiled daddy's girl.

He raised his head just enough to see you perched comfortably in the tree, a stark contrast to the tension that hung in the air between them.

He wondered what the King's daughter was doing here, and what she might want with a lowly peasant like himself.