Initially, all roses in this world had no thorns. Later, a hundred years of unjust injustice, a hundred years of unresolved love, a hundred years of lies and blood gave birth to thorns on the rose.
The black thorns wrapped the castle into a bent giant beast, the ominous crows were hovering, and the sheep wandering in the wilderness trampled the murderer's dream, but the beauty who had been sleeping for a hundred years knew nothing about it.
