The child awoke, and found himself in a world of shadows and starlight. He glanced at the nursemaid, but she lay on the bed with the other babies, fast asleep. She would be cranky if he woke her. But he was hungry. He sat up, then, and carefully scooted across the straw mattress and dropped to the floor. Being careful not to step on the older boys slumbering on the floor, he made his way to the door and slipped out into the corridor. The older boys liked to lord their size and age over the child. [i]We'll be squires, soon![/i] they'd say, puffing their chests out boldly. [i]We'll serve the King's knights. Perhaps they'll take us along to battle![/i] The child padded down the darkened hall. There were probably monsters hiding in the corners, but monsters couldn't see little children. The nursemaid said so, and from what the child could tell, she knew everything. Finding the kitchens turned out to be a rather difficult task. The servant's quarters were cramped, and the hallways wound together like a knotted piece of string. It was an old castle. Everyone said the King had taken it from an evil sorcerer long ago, and paid for it in blood. [i]That's why we never see His Highness without his battlehelm,[/i] they whispered. [i]He has a terrible scar that never heals.[/i] The nursemaid wouldn't talk about the king. [i]It isn't my place,[/i] she would say. [i]His Highness has a trying job.[/i] The child didn't see what was so hard about crushing one's enemies (especially when you were as powerful and deadly as the King supposedly was), but the nursemaid knew everything, probably, and he didn't press further. After some time, the child came across an promising-looking door. He had to jump a bit to reach the latch, but it swung open easily, revealing a darkened room. Convinced he was in Cook's bedroom, the child toddled over to the snoring lump on the four-poster bed. "Snack, please?" The child asked politely, tapping on the lump. The snoring stopped abruptly. "You... What? What is the meaning of this?" came the groggy reply. The shape slowly sat up, like a dragon emerging from its lair. "Snack?" The child repeated, hopefully. The child stumbled as the shape rose from the bed and moved to light a candelabra. Light sprang from the wicks, and the room suddenly became [i]much[/i] bigger. Before the child stood the King. He was [i]tall[/i]. He towered over the wayward child like the castle walls themselves, big and solid and tense. His brows were furrowed in an angry frown, and the expression twisted the scars on his face into a misshapen mess of harsh, unforgiving flesh. "Why have you awoken me?" The King thundered. The child blinked up at the angry monarch, wondering if this was why the King wore a battlehelm. Between his half-severed brow and his lopsided nose, the King looked like a troll, or maybe an ogre. "Speak when you are ordered to," the King demanded. "Snack for me?" "[i]What?[/i]" The child remembered his manners. "Snack for me, please?" The King stared at the toddler. "You woke your ruler because you were [i]hungry?[/i] Do you not fear my ire?" He kicked the pile of armor left discarded at the foot of his bed. "Others would not dare approach me if their lives depended on it. Why do you not fear my monstrosity as they do?" Maybe this was a riddle, like in the nursemaid's stories. If the child answered correctly, the King would relent and they could get a snack. "[i]Why are you not afraid?[/i]" the King repeated, almost desperately. "Monsters don't see children," the child stated. "Nurse says so." He reached out a tiny hand and waved it before the King. His Highness' eyes followed the movement of the tiny fingers as they flailed about. "See?" the child chirped. "Not a monster." The King stared at him for a long time. Finally, he murmured, "I see." The child perked up hopefully. "Snack?" "Yes, I think so," the monarch replied. He reached down and allowed the child to wrap his hand around a single gnarled finger. "Snack for us," the child said happily, as the two set off through the darkened castle.