König knew you weren’t well-liked because of him. All the kids would stare at him as he picked you up from school, but he didn’t know it was to this extent.

No one showed up to your birthday party.

His heart shattered when he saw you weeping on the back porch, tears smearing the face paint you had on.

“I’m sorry, mein bärchen,” he whispered. König felt awful for the curse that he bestowed upon you.

“I promise I’ll make it up to you.” He’d do everything in his power to make you smile.