"Be careful not to appear obsessively intellectual. When intelligence fills up, it overflows a parody."

- Criss Jami

The door creaked open, green eyes immediately flickering over to it. The frame, outlined by the light in the hall, was distorted at first, but as it stepped further and further into Arthur's darkened chambers, it became clear. His eyes widened and he stepped back instinctively.

She laughed, coming closer and closer until Arthur could feel the heat of the fireplace on his back.

"What do you want?" He asked, his voice much shakier than he would have liked.

"He'll never love you, you know," she sang, walking over to the rose floating ominously by a warped painting of himself. "That's why I did this to you, dear prince. I knew no one would ever be able to love you. Do you really think that he'll see anything more than the monster that you are?"

Arthur growled. "You don't know that. There's still time."

"Not enough!" She threw her head back, caramel colored locks spilling down her back as she cackled.

"You don't know that!" Arthur screamed.

She shattered.

Everything shattered.

He fell.

And fell.

And fell.

And finally, he landed in a chair at the dining room table, staring into a pair of enchanting blue eyes.

The boy across from him smiled. He was dressed in the best clothing money could buy, and in front of them sprawled a huge feast. His vast blue eyes were practically glowing, reminding Arthur of their first encounter, of those blue eyes shining in the dark as he searched for his brother.

Then, a suntanned hand reached out, taking Arthur's hand. He looked down and his eyes widened, seeing two human hands clasping each other instead of one human hand and one ghastly paw. He frowned. There seemed to be a crack appearing in his hand... And there was something peeking out of it... He squinted, trying to get a closer look. As soon as he did, he wrenched his hand away, eyes widening in horror. He watched in complete terror as the illusion fell away, his porcelain hand cracking as fur pushed through.

He clutched it tightly to his chest, pressing it down as if he could stop the spread. It was moving toward his wrist.

Ivan appeared, smiling blankly as he set a platter down in front of Arthur. On it sat a glistening butcher's knife, which Arthur grabbed in his other, still-human hand. He spread his paw out on the platter, raised the knife, took a shaky breath, and—

"Master?"

Arthur gasped as his eyes opened wide.

He sighed in relief. "Ah," he said, taking in a deep breath, "hello, Katyusha."

She smiled at him, though worry swam in her sweet blue eyes. "I've made some more clothes for you, master." She told him, turning away.

Arthur watched her movements closely, observing the curves of her body. Though he had never had any particular interest in the female body, he could admit that she was rather beautiful, not to mention particularly well-endowed. Her wide hips swung as she began to tuck the clothes into Arthur's wardrobe, humming something under breath.

"Erm... Katyusha?" The beast asked, sitting up.

"Yes, master?" She turned back toward him, one finely trimmed blond brow raised.

Arthur filled with his silken sheets. "Ehm... Do you have any suggestions on how to romance someone?"

She smiled knowingly. "You could try showing him something you're interested in... Perhaps he will like some of the things and you two can bond over that."

Arthur nodded. "Hm... I-I suppose it couldn't hurt to try..."

Katyusha beamed. "And if that doesn't work, you could always show him your breasts!"

When Alfred's door opened, he immediately looked over. He'd been trapped in his room since he'd woken up, and he was running out of things to stare at while he waited for a servant to appear. He'd hoped he could convince whoever it was to let him out; perhaps the others weren't as brainwashed as Ivan and Natalya were! He could probably even convince one of them to come with him! That would be so heroic!

But, as usual, fate seemed to have it out for Alfred, for it was no servant who entered his quarters, but the beast himself.

Alfred stiffened, wide-eyed as he watched the large creature approach and take a seat across from him. He couldn't help feeling tense; this was the monster that had separated him from his brother, the monster who was keeping him prisoner here for God knows how long, the monster who was so strong he could subdue Alfred, one of the strongest men in his village, as if it were nothing. He wanted to escape. The door had been left hanging wide open, and his eyes flickered to it immediately.

"Don't even think about it," threatened the beast.

"I never think!" Alfred cried, leaping from his chair and barreling towards the door. He'd barely made it a few feet before a huge arm had caught him around the waist. He cried out, shoving at it, but was easily plucked from the ground and carried back to his chair.

"That's apparent." Arthur replied with a roll of his eyes. He set Alfred back down in his chair. "Now, must I hold you down or will you act like a respectable human being for a moment?"

"You don't have to, so why do I?" Spat the younger.

Anger flared up within Arthur. God, this man had the absolutely maddening ability to push every single one of his buttons! The witch had certainly placed a spell on the boy to give him the infuriating ability to anger Arthur; there was no other explanation as to why he could be so gifted at it! If not her, then it must be some deity testing Arthur's patience! At the thought, Arthur took a deep breath to steady his breathing and regain control of his temper.

"If you wish to spend your time in this room and not the dungeons, then you will do as I say." He replied.

"You'll have to catch me to put me in the dungeons!" Alfred screamed, and once again he was making a mad dash toward the hall.

"Ivan!" Arthur called casually, and just as Alfred was reaching the door, it slammed in his face. He fell back onto the floor, crying out in surprise.

Arthur strolled over to the man, towering over him. "There. Now that you know escape is impossible, it's time for us to talk." For the second time, Arthur lifted Alfred up and took him back to his chair, Alfred hollering and hitting him all the while.

He was pushed into the chair, watching as the beast settled into his own and leaned back.

"So," Arthur started. "Since you have brought your lack of intellect to my attention—though I am fairly certain I would have noticed it on my own had I been able to spend more than five minutes in a room with you—I have decided that I will help you become a more cultured person. Since you are much below me in rank, I expect you to address me as 'sir' at all times."

"I'd rather just call you 'asshole.'" Spat the blond.

Arthur leapt from his chair and clamped his paws down upon both of Alfred's, pressing one into each arm of the chair. "One more comment from you and I will send you straight to the dungeons, where you will never escape! Do you understand?"

Wide-eyed and terribly frightened, Alfred opened his mouth. "...Yes," he said after a long moment, his voice incredibly shaky.

"Yes what?" Asked the beast.

Alfred blinked, and for a moment Arthur knew he didn't comprehend. Realization flooded into his too-blue eyes and he gulped. Alfred was terrified and Arthur knew it. He could see the fear in his eyes, feel his hands shaking madly...

"Yes, sir." Alfred muttered under his breath.

Arthur removed his paws, careful not to scratch the blond as he let go. He felt awful. This was not the way to win someone's heart, but it was all Arthur knew. He didn't understand how to gain another's affections. Literature, he understood. Economics? Yes. Mathematics? Of course. But love? The word was hardly a part of his vocabulary. Just the mere concept of love was idiotic. It was completely unattainable; a concept one read and dreamt about, but certainly didn't find in real life. And yet, Arthur had to rely wholly on this feeling to restore his glory. He had to make this stubborn, idiotic brat fall in love with him, even though Arthur knew that no aspect of himself was worthy of love. For this man to love him, he would have to deceive him.

Arthur straightened out, running his paws along his coat to mend any wrinkles. "Breakfast will be done in a half hour. I expect you to be properly dressed and ready when I come to retrieve you. Is that clear?"

Alfred looked up at him, fixing him with a spiteful glare. "Yes, sir," he hissed through his teeth.

With that, Arthur turned. "Ivan!" He called again. The doors opened to let him out, and then immediately slammed shut again.

Alfred went to the wardrobe and took a deep breath.

There was no way he would survive this.