A little prince growing in the king’s castle, his mother being the queen, and his father is none else but the king.

Devoid of all emotion he’s raised, no warm kisses from his mother, and he didn’t learn how to shave from his father.

The prince grew up trying to depend on himself, telling himself that nonetheless one day he’ll become the king, that was his only dream.

Yet the road to kinghood was rough and cold, and he already was starved of warmth growing up.

So the little Prince started looking for warmth elsewhere, any place that’s willing to release him from the frostbite that’s has eaten away at his heart.

He entered an inn, and a fair waitress welcomed him with a warm smile, enchanting the prince in an instant.

Eating some meat and drinking some mead, he finally Felt that he was full, yet his heart craved more.

The waitress looked over at the prince and with a mischievous smile she lured him down her room, and the naive little prince happily obliged.

In the morning the little Prince Woke up with all his jewellery gone, and with a little cut on his chest.

He looked at his chest in confusion, as little droplets of warm blood ran their course across his pale chest.

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The prince was very hurt by what the waitress did, and in a rage he ordered the guards to destroy the whole entire inn.

Yet the heart of the prince ached even more as he saw the guards hold the woman he had bedded the night before, therefore he let her live, sparing her life just this time.

The prince grew older, and year after year the small cuts on his chest grew more in numbers and larger in size.

The naive little prince was too kind hearted to let any of the women in his life get the punishment they deserved, since all of the women he had been with had at the very least, and even for a little bit, held the little Prince close to their chest, filling him with warmth, and defrosting the frostbite on his heart.

Yet no matter how hard the little Prince tried, throughout his life he could not find that eternal warmth he had sought.

And just like that, one day the king passed away, and the little Prince had now become king himself.

He ruled fairly, and was a king that was loved by all.

History recorded his stories as legends that would live on in the memories of all his citizens minds, for he was fair and just.

And yet even still, the king was cold and numb to all the glory he had gained, this was his dream no ? For him to become king. It was his destiny, if he became king, then he’d get rid of the curse on his heart, wasn’t that the whole point of the scars on his chest ?

And yet why, just why, did the king sit on his throne, feeling nothing but a cold chilling sensation in his chest.

And so the king finally figured out a way to ease the frost, he entered the throne room and happily played behind the throne just like how he did as a child, and after he had finished everything he sat on his cold iron throne.

Smiling and with tears swelling his eyes, he let out one final tear from his left cheek, as he stabbed himself in the heart.

Feeling the warmth of his own blood run down his chest was the ultimate bliss to the frost ridden king, giving him the final warmth he craved.