Boram laughed. It was impulsive upon seeing a man-if you can call the deformed monstrosity that- slip on black ice and crash onto a bare stall. She threw back her head and guffawed heartily until common sense prevailed and she shut . By then all the men (there are women, too, it's just that they have no way of being identified) were staring at her. For a second, Boram wondered if they were drawn to the milky white skin of her face now that the hood fell off or shapely nose. A second later she realised it was the metal braces on her slightly yellow teeth that they cared about.

 "Get her!"

 She ducked as a pair of unnaturally long and bony arm encircled her. Another pair reached out and pulled the ratty jacket until Boram was running but not really moving. It was lucky that the person was pushed away by an even greedier man twice her height. She ran, slipping and sliding, ducking and jumping until there was no one in front of her and a mob at her feet. Boram swerved and ended up crashing onto a wall. Before fear could overwhelm her, she spotted an open window on the ground and dove for it. The ice made it so that she was slick enough to fit in but that did nothing for her face when it met with a box of wretches.

 Boram's teeth, already sensitive from the pushing and pulling from the braces, seemed to fall off. The pain was equivalent to being punched ten times at once so when she would no longer feel them, she panicked. The other wounds became irrelevant as beauty was wealth where she came from. Upon examination, Boram realised that they were still intact. The front canines became convex shaped and that was something to grieve about. She did not get a chance to as sounds of hurried footsteps reached her. 

 Boram moved quickly to the furthest part of the dark and dank room and leaped into the largest box quickly pilling the contents (plush toys) on top of her until she was hidden.

 "Find her." a harsh voice screamed as they entered. She heard things being lifted and shoved away. They were looking near the window first before making their way through the rest of the room. The placed looked packed when she took a look earlier. Too bad she did not know where she was. If only she cared less about how aesthetic her teeth were then maybe she could have used that short time to figure out her location.

 "How much do you think we can get for her skin?" an oily voice asked sounding close to her.

 "A lot. Diablo likes hanging them on the wall. He likes it very much," the first voice answered before cackling. Her heart stopped when her box was lifted and shaken. The person dropped it disinterestedly and went on the neighbouring container. Boram was most thankful to her small size. Had she been ten pounds heavier like her mother wanted....

 The ruckus dimmed as the disgruntled group moved out arguing about where she could have gone. Boram breathed quietly in relief. She knew the place would be watched carefully just in case so she remained where she was, adjusting every time one of her limbs went numb. When she emerged, the sun had set, making the room even more gloomy, especially since the moonlight filtered through one place, and the air was frigid. She borrowed a musty smelling overall and moldy shoes and left through the same window. Boram hunched over like some of the other deformed folk who were watching the others through murky windows for some reason. Everyone she met gave a wide berth, crossing the cobble streets to the other side. Even monsters had something to be scared of. 

 As she walked further and further away, the atmosphere became wintry. A forest, made of trees in perfect rows, loomed in the distance. She had passed through it earlier but it had none of the menace it showed now. The trees seemed to animate the closer she got and they became down right villainous when she ran past the first line. Animals began shrieking. Even the thought that they were long extinct did not calm her heart and still Boram trudged on.

 The sun began rising, and with it the heat, when she finally came to the gates of her city. The walls surrounding them were as tall as the clouds and darker than the grey trail she had followed. A patrol of guards in lilac uniform came to her just as her legs gave in. Boram was mildly aware that her hand was lifted. It surprised her to see the tips were an inky purple. Still, they had check her blood and even as they carried her inside, the men asked her questions. Boram knew she had to cooperate as she had broken the rules severely but she wanted to sleep.

 "Madam, you must stay awake, please,"

 Boram nodded before promptly shutting her eyes assuring them that she was conscious. When her eyes opened again, she was in a vaulted room in a wooly, loose dress. Her finger tips were still there but her teeth were crooked. No one was more disappointed that she was.

 "Happy, are you?" a melodious voice filled the room.

 "No," Boram answered evenly. She turned towards the woman who was entering with a dozen handmaidens behind her, half of which were holding up the trail to the magnificent dress she was wearing. The dress could not make the woman elegant as she oozed gracefulness making others fade away as if they were part of the background. That was how Boram felt even though she was lying on a large bed in the middle of the room.

 "I was hoping you felt it was worth it."

 "I am sorry, mother."

 "It is Queen to you today and from now on until you earned the right to talk to me informally,"

Boram lowered her head not knowing what to say. A part of her wanted to argue that the Queen had done what she did once but that would require explaining how she knew.

 "Do you have anything to say?"

And if she found out who Boram had been in contact with, then no one could protect her.

 "I do apologise sincerely. I've wronged you and embarrassed the family,"

 "I love you, child, but you make it so hard."

 That hurt even when it should not because the Queen loved little. 

 "You're not to leave your room until I say so." 

 With that, she swept away leaving a dejected Boram. For hours, she remained seated. Her upper back began stinging and then pulsing in pain before which Boram moved from her position. She changed into a tunic and darkened her skin with a bunch of rotting flowers she kept hidden under the floor boards. Surprisingly, the door was not locked from the outside. Then she tiptoed out half convinced the Queen had someone keeping watch over her since Boram broke the trust she had in her. 

 None of the servants so much as glanced in her direction. Boram felt like patting her back for managing to blend in so well. The lower levels of the palace had so many of them that she had to use a secret passageway behind the portrait of the First Ruler. Boram always acknowledged the ingenuity of the person who built it. It was repetitious but one has to applaud how clever it was hiding an aisle behind someone with near deity status. She ambled until it dropped into another corridor and the pattern repeated until she found herself looking up at a figure lying on a cold, rough ground in the dungeons through a small pit covered sparsely with straw.

 "Father?"

He scrambled to her position and placed his head close.

 "Boram, you're back."  

 There was so much joy in the way he said that that Boram found him beautiful. His eyes were ringed, darkening until the pupil which was blood red. Boram always wanted to know how that was possible and her father assured her that the Queen was finding out.

 "I went to the town, Father. It was everything you said it was but I didn't find the Witch. I'm sorry,"

 "You'll find her one day, Boram. I trust in you,"

 "I almost got found out, Father. Look at my teeth. Can you see them?"

 "I cannot but I'm sure they are perfect,"

 "Your eyes?"

 "I'll be fine," he said. Boram felt reassured because he never lies. She hated that there was so much separating them.

 "When I become Queen, you won't be here anymore, Father," she said wiping the tears away. "You'll be outside like everyone else."

 "Your path isn't guaranteed, child. So many others want the throne."

 "With you on my side, I can stop them." She pushed her hand through glad that they were more slender. "Here,"

 "No!" Looking at the cell bars to see if the guards heard, her father breathed in relief and continued. "I promised not to hurt you again,"

 "I was sick then. I have taken care of myself. Ate lots of beets, I did. I'm healthy," Boram added exasperated. "Please, you need to live for me."

 He brought her wrists to his lips. She could feel his tears on her skin, feel them burn her. His mouth, which was nothing more than a gash, parted and then the razor sharp teeth sunk into her. The pain, as always, was there but after seeing how feeble and knobby his fingers were and how scaly his skin was, she decided it was small price to pay. His hands tightened and Boram knew he was losing control. I should stop him. Yet, she let him continue even as her legs were buckling and her sight was becoming dotted. Suddenly, her father pulled away with a gasp. His long, narrow tongue ran frantically over where he pierced the skin. Boram felt her hand fall down to her side even though she did not will it so. 

 "Oh no," he sobbed and her heart wretched.

 "Don't be sorry. I know it hurts when you're hungry."

 "Why can't I die?" her father lamented. 

Boram looked at him until she caught his eye. "You have to live. I only have you. Please."

 "I have weakened you. What use am I?"

 "No, you haven't," Boram croaked overcome with emotion. "You have made me stronger. I have done so much since I met you. I am stronger and I have ambitious Father. Please do not give up hope. I'll fix you. I'll fix everything."

 "I won't. I'll be here when you come back but do not offer yourself again, my child."

 "It would look suspicious if I bring animal,"

 "Don't bring me anything. Let me see you. That is all I want."

Boram nodded, her mind already thinking and formulating plans on how to bring a lamb with her.

 "Goodbye, Father,"

 "Farewell, my love,"

 She went away and was utterly exhausted when she arrived back in her room. The last bit of energy was used when she wiped away the makeshift dye. When she looked at her wrist, it had already healed. In place of the perforation was many small blotches that she would have to keep out of sight. Boram climbed back on top of the bed, covered herself and slept. She dreamt of the world she would build and who she need to destroy in order to the do that.