By evening, Soojung was starting to feel the effects of being starved of blood.

The internal heat in her body was wrapping her up in imaginary flames, spreading from her dry throat to her eyes and chest. Shadows of black bruises were beginning to form on skin that looked too white to be considered pale anymore. Yet, she was shivering from cold as the sweat that trickled down her face like tears were warm and scorching. Her body was operating on the basis of an opposite-feedback mechanism. She would feel icicles forming on her eyelids for one second, and then the next moment, her hands would be burning as she spread them out on the marble flooring to bring her temperature down.

Soojung knew what was coming next. If she continued to deny her body of blood, the hunger would rebel and overtake her senses. Soon, she will experience the sensation of drowning, deflated lungs that lost its elasticity, a brain that fails to generate and transmit nerve impulses, and her heart will stop pumping fluid. Her body freezes and hardens, deactivated, until someone induces blood into her life stream once again.

Descriptions of shriveled vampire bodies that crossed her still functioning mind were not an analogy. It will happen to her if she does not act fast. She needed to be in control of her shell, she needed to maintain this vessel of a body to live out her immortal life.

The princess crawled to the corner of her brother’s room where the two walls meet in unison. She curled herself into a fetal position, letting the corner cradle her like her brother does every night with his strong arms. It was the place that offered her comfort in case of his absence. She’d read and sleep at the corners. She’d think better there. The two walls felt like her brother’s doting gesture. It made her feel less alone.

Silly girl, she could almost hear him . Soojung could also predict his angry stare and worried stance if he knew she had been starving again. And she disliked arguing with him. Thinking rationally and bracing herself once more, she uncapped the bottled blood and drank.

It tasted vile and disgusting.

She stood up with wobbly legs and ran clumsily to the bathroom. The mirror reflected the image of a girl with wild raven hair and dark circles framing irises of different color. Her left eye of hazel brown was turning black, the other olive-green one turning a dull shade of slime and muck. Above all, her glassy sclera was a horrifying bright red.

Soojung forced herself to swallow more of the blood in , pressing it down as she clenched her jaw and choked back tears that threatened to spill.

She was afraid that blood would replace tears instead. She would weep blood instead of clear salty tears, simply because her body thirsted and rejected it at the same time.

Thirty seconds pass, her body started to calm down. Breathing was less difficult, her skin still looked like sheets of unused paper, but at least the bruises had subsided. She stopped panting and her eyes were back to normal. She wanted to break into a small smile of victory.

However, she should have known better. Her body will never accept human blood.

Soojung threw up in the basin and let water rush generously from the tap, to mask her grunts and to wash the rancid smell of vomit away as quickly as possible before anyone detected her unfavorable condition. She washed and washed repeatedly before slumping down onto the bathroom floor, the front of her garment wet with water and sweat.

She had a little energy stored now. Although it was obtained at an extreme physical discomfort, it will sustain her attempts to sneak out of the castle into the market square.

Soojung could not wait for her brother to return, nor can her body ingest the detrimental human blood without risking falling deeper into illness.

She only hoped that he will come back soon, and that she had enough money to purchase some blood pills.

_______________________________________________________________________________________________________

Myungsoo walked the dry streets with curiosity and engrossment. He had a bulky camera in his hands that captured everything he found to be of worth in films and pictures- scenes of fresh dewdrops on roses at the florist, vibrant patterns of silk cloth at the tailors, the rolling of cinnamon and grinding of spices or even as the butcher raised his cutting knife at a slab of thick pork. Myungsoo thought that photographs were an excellent way of preserving some things in its original state, as even with the capability of vampire memory, you couldn’t help but alter and edit the copies stored in your mind. He preferred seeing through the lens of a camera rather than his own eyes.

He spun around an empty space in the square, completely oblivious to some girls who were casting shy glances at him. He was so focused on capturing something spectacular when he noticed a flurry of navy blue that slipped from the side of his eyes.

Finally removing the device that blocked his delicate face, the ladies swooned even more at the sight of his inquiring expression. The young man was sharp and observant. He could recognize his cousin’s coat hurrying past the alleys and walkways.

Only thing he didn’t understand was why it was his sister who was wearing it.