The marsh king's daughter.
This is the imaginary story of her life.
Beautiful, but wicked mind under the sun.
Ugly frog, but pure, noble mind under the moon.
Helga had spent such a childhood, but she never had a grudge against her fate.
Her superior soul has grown strongly.
In one snow-scented winter morning, Helga drew the muddy-colored cloth over her shoulder,
stood up the collar as if she covered her velvet skin, 
and took off to somewhere without saying good-bye to her parents.

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