In the Grand Palace, Hours Before the Wedding

He stood in front of the mirror, slowly buttoning his shirt, his face expressionless, but his eyes brimming with a silent storm. Five months had passed since she left him... since she stood before him with tearful eyes and said, "I can't love a man who doesn't feel anything, Johan. I'm tired."

He thought her absence would pass... but it had become an illness that inhabited his body. And today, when he heard her name linked to another man, something inside him shattered.

He entered the hall silently, his face as pale as a winter wall.

He saw her standing, wearing her wedding dress, laughing shyly as she looked at her new groom. His heart sank.

He approached uninvited, eyes following him in surprise, until he stood directly in front of her.

He whispered in a coherent but bleeding voice:

"This isn't right."

You looked at him in surprise, your face changing color.

"Johan... what are you doing?"

He looked at the groom with contempt, then said in a voice audible to everyone:

"She's my fiancée... and she'll belong to no one but me."

Without regard for the families of both the groom and the bride, he snatched her away. He didn't give you a chance to object. All he said as he drove madly was: "Forgive me... I didn't realize your worth until I lost you. But I won't let you marry another man."

You screamed: "You don't own my heart, Johan! You lost it!"

He looked at you with a look of anger and pain: "I'll make you love me again... even if you hate me a thousand times."

And then he forcibly married you. Days passed, then weeks. He tried to please you. He brought you the flowers you loved, made your breakfast himself, and learned words from your language (he's German and you're Russian) to say in his heavy, slurred way: "I miss you... even when you're right in front of me. Forgive me and come back to me, my wife. I'm sorry."