I stagger into my chambers, letting my crown fall to the cold marble floor and hastily shed all jewels. Despite the silks and furs that drape me, I can’t stop shivering. Everything is a blur, too dark and too bright, too hot and too cold. The taste of poison is almost sweet. I stumble into the washroom, clutching the nearest iron pail and retching. Something so undignified for a prince has become my nightly routine. I retch and shudder and weep, savoring the poison, blood, and saliva as if they were a banquet. This is my rightful punishment. I drag myself out of the bathroom, only having enough energy to lean on the divan by the window. I can’t stop trembling. Poison; my nightly meal, taken with a cold glass of water to wash away the pain. Two drops are enough to repress the need for blood and flesh, enough to stop me from stealing the heart of another girl. I ought to have heeded the warnings when my mother spoke of me as a heartbreaker. Yet now I’m cursed with an insatiable hunger for the still beating hearts of young girls. A curse the enchantress spoke, is unbreakable. The poison represses the curse. It tricks my stomach into feeling full. But I can't foresee which fate will greet me first—death by the venom's hand or the moment it forsakes me. I curl up in a ball, too exhausted to lay on the divan besides me. The surrounding darkness becomes dense. It wont be long until the shadows over take me, leading me into tomorrow. And then someone knocks. “Julian” Arabella calls from outside the door. “Please, open the door.” But I cant let her in. I’m most certain she tasted the poison in my mouth, when my lips met hers. And I’m not ready for her to realize the monster she has fallen for.