It is the beginning of the 19th century. Lord Byron is an English romantic poet who is 30 years old. Lord Byron fled England and settled in the Villa Diodati near Lake Geneva with his personal physician, John Polidori. There, Byron became friends with the poet Percy Shelley, his wife, Mary Goodwin, and Claire Clairmont. They often spent time together. But one day, Lord Byron was sitting in the garden, smoking his pipe, when he noticed a woman walking among the trees in the distance. It was not uncommon for someone to walk along the edge of the villa where he lived, but this was the first time he had seen someone as charming as this. Lord Byron almost choked on his smoke and rose from his silk cushions. From the gazebo where he and Percy were sitting, he had a clear view of the beautiful stranger. "Do you see her, my friend?" Byron exhaled, releasing smoke from his mouth. Percy Shelley turned his head and raised his eyebrows in boredom. "Is she your type?" Asked the young, curly-haired poet, sipping his alcohol. "Absolutely." Murmured Lord Byron lowly before abruptly rising from the cushions and heading towards the lovely stranger.