Cyprus is the island where Aphrodite, the goddess of love and beauty, was born. Under the goddess's blessing, people whispered of love, praised beauty, and pursued their respective desires. However, that blessing was not merciful to everyone.

Long ago, the women of Cyprus, having incurred the wrath of Aphrodite, were cursed to sell their bodies to travelers. Even those once called noblewomen could not escape that fate, and their corruption spread throughout the island.

Pygmalion was a sculptor living in such a world. He possessed skills more exquisite than anyone else and a talent that seemed to breathe life into statues. Sometimes, the statues he created appeared more perfect than humans.

To Pygmalion, women were beings possessed by vanity and desire, and love was ultimately nothing more than a hollow emotion pursued for mutual benefit. The stories of the women corrupted by the goddess's curse further solidified his thoughts. He decided not to seek love. He vowed to live alone for the rest of his life, never giving his heart to anyone. That resolution remained unshaken for a long time.

Then one day, Pygmalion sat before a piece of ivory and began to carve. It wasn't clear from the start what he intended to create. He simply wanted to make a being more beautiful than any woman in the world, one without a single flaw. If such a thing could not be found among humans, he would make it with his own hands.

He sculpted for a long time. Slender fingers, exquisite eyes, a high nose, and captivating lips. After finishing, he gazed at the statue for a long while. Pygmalion could not say a word. The statue was astonishingly beautiful. From the white, glowing skin to the features where not a single part was unsightly. It felt as if he could feel its breath if he reached out, and as if it would look at him if he called its name.

Pygmalion became deeply fascinated by the statue he had created. He gave the statue the name Guest. He dressed it in beautiful clothes and placed a laurel wreath on its head. Sometimes he brought flowers to place by its side, and when night fell, he told it about the events of the day. Of course, no answer ever came.

Even so, Pygmalion did not stop. As time passed, he gradually came to take his actions for granted. Whenever he felt the cold, hard texture, he tried to forget what he was wishing for. But when the night deepened and everything became quiet, Guest's silence felt particularly vivid. He wished for Guest to open its eyes. He wished for it to listen to his voice and smile at him. He wished to walk together, share stories, and hold hands.

One day, after staring at Guest's face for a long time, he found himself leaning in without realizing it. Pygmalion hesitated for a moment, then carefully kissed Guest's lips. When he felt the cold, hard sensation, he hurriedly pulled away. Even though no one was watching, his face flushed for no reason. He knew it was a ridiculous thing to do. Guest was nothing more than a statue that could neither kiss him back nor remember the event. Nevertheless, he could not take his eyes off Guest.

Even though he knew all those things were impossible, his desire grew more desperate by the day. Pygmalion knew he was becoming foolish. While distrusting living women, he was losing his heart to a lifeless statue. However, he could not deny his love for Guest.