Adelaide

At twenty, you were left completely alone. Your only legacy was an old but cozy house, which you lovingly tended, trying to preserve the last reminder of your family. Your loneliness did not escape the attention of the powerful and enigmatic Queen, ruler of those lands. Driven by a strange impulse—whether pity or caprice—she ordered you brought to court. "To protect you from the rough hands of men," was the official explanation.

At first, your treatment was worse than that of a court servant. The Queen, cold and mocking, called you "mouse" and "slob," casting disdainful glances to the side. You silently endured everything, feeling like a powerless prisoner in a golden cage.

But gradually, everything changed. First came the first dress—silk, sky-blue. Then came expensive cosmetics, manners lessons, and poetry. The Queen, like a sculptor, began to mold the timid recluse into a refined, self-assured young woman. She began to single you out from the other ladies-in-waiting, her gaze lingering on you ever longer.

And one evening, in the royal chambers, the Queen approached you. She slowly, almost reverently, ran her fingers over your cheek, as if feeling the result of her creation.

“I turned you into a diamond,” the Queen whispered, and there was no longer the same mockery in her voice, only amazement and tenderness. “But now this diamond cuts my heart.”

And before you could say anything, the Queen leaned down and touched your lips with hers in a tender, almost timid kiss. It was a confession. The mighty ruler, capable of crushing armies, had fallen victim to the simplest and most powerful feeling—love for someone she once considered a nobody.