The Most Beautiful Eyes Ch. 01

Good thing she had put locks on her luggage, then.

There was a man with a black coat, a triangular hat, and long hair tied back with a ribbon. He said he would escort her into the keep. The foyer had a long rug on the floor. It was blue with intricate gold and red floral designs. It might have been made in a foreign country. The actual floor had various diamond shaped tiles in rusty colors with occasional grays.

There was a set of two staircases that curved around like an embrace ... or curved pliers. The railings were thick, white, and shiny. The steps were the same.

From the second floor's landing, a woman emerged. Her skin was a rich cocoa brown. Her gown was in a base of dark blue with white lace and cream bow-knot details, particularly on her stomacher and underskirt. She practically glided down the staircase on Muriel's left. Her skirt was so wide that the ends nearly grazed the railings, and the staircase looked as if it could fit two or three people across. There was a short black cloak on her shoulders. It was open and happily displaying the white fur lining. Muriel thought of a piece of paper that had most of it coated in ink.

When the woman stood before Muriel on the first floor, she looked down at her. She was quite tall. Muriel curtsied and said in a very mannerly way, "Good morning, Madam."

The woman nodded. While her black hair was in a tight coiffure, two locks were allowed to fall down her neck and over her collar. Those locks shifted and gleamed when she nodded. "Are you Muriel Devin?"

"Yes, Madam."

The woman had a lower lip that was thicker than the upper, and both were painted red. Her dark brown eyes were stern with lines underneath. Her cheeks were high. Her nose was fairly thin except for the nostrils, which were soft and a little wider. She seemed quite judgmental yet dignified. "Your sisters are Evelyn and Sarana, correct?"

"Yes."

"Then why do you have the same tone as a worn dish rag?" There was a hint of anger in her words, but only a hint.

Muriel didn't take offense from her question. Compared to her sisters, Muriel knew she'd certainly be more grim to look at. She kept her form calm and replied, "I've never deceive you."

The woman sighed as if she was suddenly fatigued, but her back was straight. "Do you know who I am?"

"Some conjecture is in my mind, Madam."

"I'll tell you who I am, then. Princess Arya Shirma, mother of the two princes of this nation."

Muriel curtsied again. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Your Highness."

"You'll know if it was a pleasure or not as time passes." Curtly, she turned herself around. Her shoes thumped against the colorful rug. "Radine!"

A wrinkled yet lively woman hurried down the same path the princess had taken. When she was right beside the princess, she curtsied and said, "Yes, Mistress?"

"This is Muriel Devin. She's hoping to be my companion. Show her to her room."

"Right away." The wrinkled woman turned to smile at Muriel. She had graying red hair and a gentle little button nose. "Good morning, Dear. I'm Radine Cardon. I'm the head housekeeper here." As she spoke to Muriel, the princess wordlessly walked off to some place. Muriel didn't know where. "I'm going to take you to your room," continued Radine, "is that alright?"

"Yes, Madam," Muriel said.

She was led upstairs and off to a place she might never be able to find on her own, several stories upwards.

***

The room she was given was actually very nice and bigger than her room at home. The walls had smooth plaster covered by a medium teal blue wallpaper. There was also a barely visible pattern of subtly lighter stripes. The floor had shiny black and gray tiles in a straight grid pattern. There were a few tapestries on the walls, some rugs on the tiled floor, a fireplace, a dressing table, a tall standing mirror, a wardrobe, a washing stand, a window, a few armchairs, a dining area, and a white ottoman at the foot of an elegant canopy bed.

Muriel washed her face and hands. Then she changed into a mostly featureless gown of a dark olive color and put her cloak right back on. A few maids came and served her a meal. It was vegetable pottage with bits of roasted chicken mixed in and a hunk of white bread. It was a perfectly filling meal, but Muriel didn't enjoy it.

After the meal, Muriel was told to follow a maid down to a sitting room, where the princess was waiting for her, sitting on a wide couch that barely had enough room for her gown. A tea set was on a coffee table.

"Sit, Muriel," Princess Arya said as she let her hand glide over the coffee table.

"Yes, Your Highness, thank you." Muriel sat down on a couch perpendicular from the princess.

"You may have some tea. I already have a cup." There was indeed a full cup waiting for the princess' fingers. There was also an empty cup for Muriel. The whole tea set had white and rich magenta colors with gold on the edges.

"Yes, Madam." She carefully gripped the elaborately curved handle of the teapot. The spout had a high arch. She poured a small amount of tea into the cup. The hot liquid was an intense red color. It smelled earthy.

"I suggest that you stir a cube of chocolate in your cup," said the princess, "otherwise you might think you're tasting an ashtray."

That seemed to be a reasonable thing to say, if a bit funny. Muriel actually had to stop herself from laughing. Her eyes squinted and her lips shook. She took a little spoon and dipped it into a bowl of small chocolate blocks. She put a block into her tea and lightly stirred, making little clanking noises.

"You're much quieter than your sisters."

Muriel disagreed. She could be very, very chatty when she felt less restrained. She had been known to have complete conversations with nobody when she was in a certain mood.

"Or ... are you trying to be polite?" The princess sounded as if she was interrogating her.

The chocolate was melted, darkening the tea. Muriel put the spoon aside. "Would Her Highness prefer to have a loud and uncouth companion?"

"Are you accusing your sisters of being loud and uncouth?"

Muriel took a slow, prudent sip of her tea. Hot earth and chocolate. Not a bad taste. Her throat was heated up very quickly. "I certainly would call them loud, to be honest."

Princess Arya flicked her hand in the air. "If I preferred one of your sisters, you wouldn't be here."

Muriel nodded and took another sip of tea.

"Your hands look as if they'll crumble to dust."

Muriel gave another nod.

"And your face looks pressed."

Another nod, another sip.

"Your sisters had me believing that all is well in your family, but after seeing you I'm wondering if that's true."

Muriel sighed.

"Your Highness, we have food and shelter. What more could we need?"

Princess Arya's eyelids shifted a bit. Her lips tightened. But she said, "That's fine. Do you know how to play any music?"

"I have an elementary comprehension of pianos," Muriel said.

"That's perfect. I'll have you play a song for me once your finished with your tea."

Muriel had no problem with this. Certainly, this princess wouldn't expect her to be a master of piano music. She'd only want some mild entertainment. She nodded. "Yes, Your Highness."

"Now, before you finish that cup, I need to give you very important information." The princess' eyes were much more focused on Muriel's own eyes. She wanted Muriel's attention, demanded it. Muriel felt an odd tremor down her spine. She couldn't explain it.

"Madam? Have I offended you?"

Princess Arya shook her head and put her graceful hands in her lap. "Muriel, you are being watched. As long as you are on this land, you should always assume you are being watched. The only refuge you have is the bedchamber provided to you."

Muriel's brow crinkled as she puzzled over those words for a moment. Thankfully, the princess let her keep her thoughts without any distraction. Then Muriel asked, "Your Highness, do you mean that I am being monitored closely to see if I am a suitable companion?"

The princess shook her head again. "I'll explain what I mean at a later date, but for now you should know that you are always watched. Don't do anything you wouldn't want anyone to see."

"Am I being watched this moment?"

"Obviously, yes. I'm right here, looking at you, but generally you need to assume someone else is watching you."

"Someone else?" Muriel put her cup and saucer down.

"Yes." The princess gripped one edge of her cloak as if she wanted to rip the material. It was the only sign Muriel could notice that implied anything stressful. "Are you still willing to stay here?"

This was odd.

But Muriel wanted to know what all this meant. If it was harmless, she would continue to stay. If it wasn't harmless, she would find a way to leave.

Besides, her family needed the money.

"As long as I have privacy in my bedchamber, then I can live well." Muriel wasn't a sneaky type of person anyway. She put on a smile. "I'll leave my cup alone. I want to play the piano now. Would that be fine, Your Highness?"

The princess rose from her seat. Her skirts made the frothiest, most indulgent noises as they fell back into shape. "Eager to flaunt your skills, are you?"

"Oh no, Your Highness." Muriel stood up too. "It's only that my crumbling hands need to move or else I'll turn mad."

Shit! Was that too rude?

Muriel took a fast bit of breath into herself and put a hand on her chest. Then she made a desperate little smile.

One of Princess Arya's shoulders jerked up. "That's fine, then. Follow me to the music room."

***