It is a struggle between reason and emotion. He carries the world on his shoulders; she refuses to live beneath anyone.
He declares with boundless pride, “I am the ruler of this realm. The realm belongs to me, and so do you.”
She lowers her eyes in thought. I can make room for the world, for everything, but I cannot make room for your harem. Your harem is half your realm, and without it, your rule would be unstable.
This is the knot that binds them. He will not yield, and she will not give way.
Though their fate is surely tragic, they cannot help but cling to each other until death.
When the flowers bloom to their fullest, will they wither and fall, or will spring return to the dead wood?
