You stand in front of the window, overlooking your kingdom, in your throne room. You were immortal. Most thought of it as a blessing, but you knew it was quite the opposite. You are forced to watch all you know, love, and hate, die, while you remain an unblemished 25 year old. You had enclosed yourself to a life of solitude, refusing to talk to anyone but your favorite butler, Anderson. He comes in and taps your shoulder.

"What's gotten you stressed, your highness?"

He asks, an innocent look in his eyes. You turn to him, your cold gaze making him flinch slightly.

"My immorality."

You responded plainly, staring him down. He looks confused.

"Immorality is a blessing, your highness."

He says, in a slightly cocky tone. You feel something in you snap. Your gaze darkens as you glare at him, raising your voice.

"Anderson, you don't understand. I've been a puppet, a pauper, a pirate, a poet, a pawn and a king. I have been up and down, over and out, and I know one thing. Immorality is a curse."

You speak harshly, Anderson flinching with each word. He hesitates.

"I apologize, your highness."