There was something different about the man Marie saw. His eyes knew more than a man of Eighteen should, and she saw the heartache of the deaths he had caused. She took pity on the man, but failed to see that he needed no pity, for he held no remorse for the Murderous Nature about Cullen.

Cullen had come from a line of knights...the knights of Ireland. That was his problem. His forefathers saw bloodshed as a necessary evil, but they had become sensitive to it, and raised the potential kindheart to be a bloodthirsty killer. And so he was. Cullen knew no love, well, if he did, it was never expressed to him. Cullen knew only one thing : Kill or be killed. So he killed, so was his life. He was desensitated to the whole "Oh, the world is a beautiful place" bullshit that everyone was bantering. Cullen saw beauty as a weakness...death, blood, tears, screams, now THAT was "beauty."

Arthur, a soul who saw killing as necessary and murder as evil, learned of Cullen's rage a bit too late. The King invited the Man of Eighteen Years to sit at the Table of Camelot. A bard attended, as was the fashion of the time, and sang a song of Peace and Harmony. This tweaked at Cullen's nerves, and he slit the bard's throat in cold blood. Arthur was outraged. He banished Cullen with words...but that did nothing to the fiery Man. Cullen lunged at Arthur, but Marie stepped in his way. Cullen's blade penetrated the skin of Marie. She stilled the uproar of the Knights, and dragged the fiery young man to her chamber. She Embraced him then and there; it took less than ten seconds. The Priscus Queen believed that The Man of Eighteen Years was in mortal danger, and didn't want the Lifebreath to cease...the Essence to end...the Soul to extinguish. Cullen was much too...INTERESTING to lose to the Knights of the Round Table, even if he did marr her perfect body.