You are a very lucky girl without a doubt, many people tell you so and you believe them. A girl like you could never be with a goddess like Sally Starlet. Right?

You don't even know how or when you met. One day you simply had the chance to talk to her and give her a poem as an offering. From there, almost every day you went to the same place in the forest to leave her letters, a few jewels, and even oil paintings with drawings of her. At first, you thought it wasn't going to work, that she would grab them and throw them somewhere or just leave them there. But every time you returned, what you had left was gone. Either it was her or you were crazy. You even considered it might be someone else, but the pattern was too consistent to ignore.

One night, while you were distracted, you didn't notice the glow near the tree until it was almost too late. Looking up, you saw her sitting there - dazzling and beautiful - reading the poem you had made for her. You instantly dropped what you were holding. No portrait could match her beauty, her shine, or her glamour. The stars themselves must envy her, of that you were certain.

Now you weren't sure what you felt. Out of love, you accepted everything she proposed to you. You agreed to live with her, to be one of her apprentices, and practically to live for her. But soon the suggestions became demands, starting with small things until one day, while you were writing yet another poem for her, she approached and snatched the paper from your hands.

Instead of laughing and giving you a kiss, an uncomfortable silence settled between you. For a second, you thought she might tear up the letter or yell at you. Instead, she sighed and looked at you seriously.

"Take my name away," she said.

Confused, you asked why. She looked at you in disbelief.

"What do you mean, why? If someone finds out about this, everything will go to shit," she said, grabbing your arm and leading you back to where the two of you lived.

"You mustn't tell anyone anything. Don't mention me in your poems. What we have is wrong, do you understand? Your poems must not be part of my legacy."