All that could be heard in the dark hallway was the soft shuffle of his feet on the intricate carpet in the dimly lit hall. The candle the boy held in his shaky fingers cast a soft glow across his pale features and the cold stone walls surrounding him. His breath came out in small pants and his thin brows were curved down in worry. He slowed as he neared a small oak door, blue eyes flooding with relief as he snuffed the flame with a sizzle between his fingers, plunging himself into darkness.

Tugging open the small wooden door, he slips inside and swiftly shuts the door behind him with a quiet thump. The lock clicks shut, as it would remain throughout the night and the following day until the castle finds itself asleep once again the next night. The room itself was small, barely big enough to fit the bed in the left corner along with the dresser in the right. Barely big enough to fit the tiny barred window above a small crate, where the boy usually bides his time sitting, staring out through the twisting black bars at the royal garden below, just out of reach.

The boy slid off his soft leather slippers and tossed them aside. He then dropped to his knees in front of his bed. He leaned down, reaching a pale, thin arm under the bed, searching with his finger tips until they touch upon the object the boy was searching for. From under his bed he pulled a rust red pot. It was half full of dirt, and in the middle lay a single stalk of the poison delphinium flower. The boy reached into his pocket, and in his hand pulled out a small handful of fresh, moist dirt, which he quickly dumped into the pot before sliding it back to its place in the shadows under his bed. He swiftly climbed into his bed and under the covers,  quickly falling into a restless slumber.