Years passed by painfully after the incident with the Nightosphere. Bonnibel had grown into a beautiful young woman, full of life and kindness. She even had a quirky fondness for science, spending many hours in her lab concocting different elixirs and potions (occasionally with success). But the time that was not spent in the lab was almost invariably spent outside Marceline's bedroom door.

The vampire had grown too, but she was no longer a vivacious young person whose only care in the world was to have fun. She had tried very hard to conceal her true self, pushing down her vampiric urges to try and live a normal life. But her fear of hurting Bonnie was too great- every time they played, every time they were even in the same room, Marceline would feel the redlust clawing at her insides, until eventually, she locked herself away and refused all of Bonnie's demands and pleas to come play with her.

It did not help that as she grew older, Marceline was slowly losing her control over the transformation. It had started that night, with the appearance of her fangs. Then one day, she had been badly burned by the sun- large welts that took nearly a week to heal had appeared all over her body after just a short walk in the gardens. Gumball had given her a floppy sunhat and gloves to wear when she was out after that, assuring her that such things were in style then anyway, and if she just concentrated, there would be no more changing. As much as he tried to comfort the girl though, there was little he could do in the way of helping her. Marceline gradually began to gain the ability of flight, which would happen out of nowhere if she was upset or excited. Shapeshifting in moments of anger became a problem as well; she had on one or two occasions transformed into a horrible she-wolf or a demonic creature in her moments of frustration. She managed to keep the redlust in check by requesting an apple every morning, and a bowl strawberries every night. It was meager sustenance that all but left her starving, but anything more than that might have clued the servants into her secret.

Oftentimes, the only joy in Marceline's life came from her observance of Bonnie running through the halls, or playing outside in a marshmallow snow, or even just reading a book outside her door. She loved to watch the Princess, taking note of her every move and little habit. As a result of this fervent observation, the vampire knew more about the princess than anyone else in the castle. She would grumble to herself if the castle staff forgot that Bonnie didn't like her food to be touching on the plate, though she would eat it anyway. Or when Gumball didn't remember that on Wednesdays, at precisely nine o' clock at night, the princess would sit in the garden to listen to the stillness of the night, and thus could not be bothered with meeting a foreign dignitary. Or that Bonnie had suffered from horrible night terrors and insomnia since the day Marceline shut her out.

There was no one in this world that Marceline cared for more, no one else that she would spend hours every day writing songs about. No one else she'd dream about at night. And she thought if she could just be allowed to continue this forever, catching glances of her princess through cracks in curtains and doors, she might be okay with having to stay in her room like a monster.

But one night, the unthinkable happened. King Gumball had been attacked by a pack of fire wolves while on a mission of goodwill to the Flame Kingdom. The best physicians in the land could do nothing for him, and when the King returned, it was in a pine box emblazoned with the royal seal. Marceline watched in horror as Bonnibel broke down, orphaned and without even her best friend to comfort her. There was more to worry about than that, though. With the death of the King, Bonnie was the next in line for the throne at the young age of 16. Marcie couldn't bear the thought of her beautiful, bubbly Princess having to endure all the pressures of running a kingdom. They would without a doubt destroy her. So when the young monarch had left to attend her father's funeral, Marceline quickly found their caretaker and the only person in the castle who knew her secret: Peppermint Butler.

"She's not ready!" Marcie shouted as she paced back and forth in the library, her voice echoing against the dusty tomes. "I don't care what the Will says, Peppermint. There must be something we can do!"

"Well," the small, round candyperson in front of her said, eyeing the angered girl with no small amount of apprehension, "if there were another, older successor to the throne, they might be able to take over as a regent until the Princess turned eighteen. But there are none, Marceline. The closest eligible royal is Cinnamon Bun, and… well, we all know about Cinnamon Bun."

Marceline growled in frustration, barely managing to keep herself calm enough to speak at a normal volume. "There has to be someone. She can't run a kingdom, not…" The vampire trailed off, then looked sharply at Peppermint. "You said there had to be someone older who could take over, right? Act as regent?"

"Yes, but I told you-"

"Why can't I do it?"

Peppermint stared at her for a while, shocked. "I don't think that would be prudent, Marceline-"

"But it would be possible?"

"Well… no, not technically. You were never officially inducted into the royal family. If you had been adopted properly by the King there might have been a case-"

"So we lie. Forge documents, I know we've done it before." Marceline sent a scathing look at the butler when he attempted to argue. "You know as well as I do that it's the only way."

"I can't be asked to lie to the princess."

"Then say nothing. You don't have to lie, only tell her that I have agreed to hold the throne until she comes of age. Bonnie's very trusting, she wouldn't question it for a minute. And you know it."

Peppermint Butler looked on the verge of arguing for a long while, and Marceline feared that she might not be able to protect the Princess after all. She couldn't just force him to agree, and if he didn't, she risked everything by her request. It could be seen as a bid for power in some circles, and she was chancing being labeled as a traitor to the crown. It was with no little relief that she sighed when Peppermint nodded stiffly in ascension.

"Very well, Marceline. We'll try it your way. But I must have your word that if things do not go as planned, you will take full responsibility for this."

"If things don't go as planned, Pep," Marceline sighed, looking out the window and into the garden, where the King's white coffin was being lowered slowly into the ground, "I don't think I'll have much of a choice." Her reddish eyes found Bonnibel, pink hair and complexion standing out like a sore thumb in comparison to the rest of the dark scene. By the time the candy princess had looked up, Marceline had already backed away, following Peppermint Butler into the corridor to discuss documents and signing.

That night, Bonnibel did something she hadn't done in ages, at least not since she was ten. Her breath caught a little as she stood, still cloaked in black, by the red stained door that kept her separated from Marceline. Her hand hovered above the door, as if she were debating whether or not to make her presence known. But Marceline was already aware of her, having heard her footsteps from the hallway. Knock, she willed silently, pressing her palm to the door. Oh please knock Bonnie… please.

But no knock came. As quickly as she had appeared, Bonnie was gone, leaving nothing behind besides a small, downcast sigh to fill the silence. The soon to be queen slid to the floor, closing her eyes as a deepening pain filled her from head to toe. "Bonnie," she whispered as she buried her head in her hands.