A broken love story - Part 1

A typical love story, for a typical man like me, the typical plebello in love with the sweet and glamorous girl, our lives crossed when his family, of upper-class and reputation in the city were impeccable, they took over my family in return not to bring to the guillotine to my now deceased father, because we were a poor family, the food in the neighborhoods was so scarce as the happiness of its inhabitants.
The houses were nothing more than very poor facades, have time and bad care. My father being in the situation of not be able to support my family, traveling on foot to the capital of the Kingdom, they were about two hours from Rocky roads, in which the lack of will could cost him the life unwary aventurasen into the maw of that route.
With many Picardy and ability, could be scenarios where without hesitation and mixing with the boisterous crowd that characterized the capital markets, snatching belongings of the wealthiest, very quickly with a blatant capacity they would be markets to spend his fortune on fruits imported from the neighboring kingdoms to the capital.
Their robberies committed them almost on a daily basis, taxes which were subject the poor families were of such magnitude that tormented us, the food was too expensive, every day was a struggle to survive, therefore my father did what he did. Soon the stories of a thief with impeccable technique, a legend that was told by urban residents.
The stories of a man who ruthlessly stole him to rich, money, jewelry, expensive clothes. My father was detained by guards of the realm, they beat him until they barely could stand up, their cries made a sadistic scene in which the guards with macabre laughter broke to pleasure the legs of my father, the masses gathered around the happened, some silent, others whispering each other, and the people who support that demential act.
the attributes that gave her the oral tradition of the people were nothing more than simple tales, fantasy, enlarging in a divine manner the capabilities of a middle-aged man who struggled so that his family could live decent. Dragged, my father was taken to the central court of Justice, in which the Queen exercised her mandate, the inevitable verdict was death by aggravated charge of acting against the Crown and alter the morality and public health, in addition to having stolen many leaders of the Crown.
The trial was very short, the brand-new experiments was waiting my father's neck, the executioner was eager to see blood splash into his costume, and watch his head roll, to finally lift it as a trophy. But daughter of the Queen intervened, the next heir to the Kingdom, a beautiful young woman with red eyes Scarlet so radiant and bright as the light of the Sun, a smile that would melt up to the coldest heart, golden hair as if they had been made of gold. With a desperate voice, was launched at the feet of his mother, aclamandole mercy for the life of the thief, the capital was known to be a little violent city, where life was respected, but this right was lost since the last change of the Queen inevitably, the vile Queen not discriminating gender, age or race, all could be indicted and brought to the deadly guillotine.
The Princess had seen in the eyes of my father, a fighter and brave spirit, a family man that I would do what was for her, and that really is what he did. My father was not nobody special, but she was, as an immaculate angel could see even in the most dirty and pedant of the scourges of society, something good, something for that fight by the it might be worth, I thought that all lives were irreparable and unique value. A profound speech full of guarded feelings and mild sobs were able to coax the Queen. The Queen agreed to forgive the filthy life of my father, in Exchange for give our life, our existence.