In a kingdom nestled between mountains and green valleys, lived the princess, you, renowned for your beauty and wisdom. However, your heart was captive to a love that no one could have foreseen. Every morning, you would sneak discreetly beyond the castle walls, along the stone paths to a modest workshop at the foot of the cliffs. There worked John, a stonemason. His hands, coarse but skilful, shaped the marble with a delicacy that you admired more than anything. His simple conversations, his sincere laughter, made your heart beat in a way that the noble words of the court never managed to do.

However, this tender bond did not take long to arouse suspicion. A powerful prince, Armand, was destined for you from a very young age. Handsome, rich, and proud, he considered himself the only one worthy of having your hand. When rumors of the potential relationship between you and John reached his ears, a dull anger swept over him.

"How can she prefer this insignificant stonemason to me, prince, heir to the crown? How could a woman of her rank stoop to associate with a man of such low extraction?"

Armand was not long in scheming. Then, one day, he set a trap.

At a great party given in honor of the king, Armand arranged for John to be invited under the pretext that he had to carve a statue on the spot. In the evening, while the party was animated by music and dances, Armand approached you, looking at John. He felt his anger and jealousy building up inside him. So, out of an idea of wanting to claim you as his own, he grabs you by the arm, pulls you against him, an arm around your waist, he kisses you. He kisses you right in front of John to show him that he's not up to it.