The Most Beautiful Eyes Ch. 03

Again, speaking to herself, careful enough not to reveal any of her most distrustful feelings, but loose enough to let some minor honesty float in the air. All alone, wandering the halls, some free time before dinner.

Sometimes her mistress let her off so she could eat in her room if she wanted. Even during her free evenings, however, Muriel still ate with the princess, mostly because the alternative was lonely but also because she wanted to watch the princess as much as possible.

Who could say what was in the princess' mind?!

Still alone, admiring paintings and tapestries on the walls. The old family's portraits had been removed. New portraits, or rather, portraits of the princess and her family members were there. There were even some paintings of her siblings and parents, the now late king and still alive queen of Junjaia.

Muriel paused her walking and talking to look up at one painting. It was of the princess' mother from maybe five years ago, or at least that was what she remembered Princess Arya saying. That queen was so old, terribly old, not that Muriel had any problems with old people.

She said to herself, "Poor dear. She looks like she's melting, which means she might look even worse in person." She shrugged. "Well, I have no right to judge, now do I?"

"Hm hm hm hm!!"

Humming, muffled laughter?

What the ...?

Muriel whirled around as she tried to find the root of the noise, but she found nothing.

That wasn't her imagination, was it?

Muriel walked on and stopped at a portrait of two boys. These were the princes back when they were children. One was bigger than the other. The bigger boy had his breeches. The smaller boy was still in a dress. For practical reasons, the tiniest of boys often wore simple dresses instead of complex breeches.

They were adorable little boys!!

Their skin was only a bit lighter than their mother's. Their eyes were brown and sparkly. Their hair was black. They really did look like brothers. Muriel grinned up at the painting and said, "Oh, what sweet little bobbins they are!"

She moved to the next painting. It was of a young man, probably one of the brothers. She didn't know which one. The man was standing in front of a tall lattice nearly coated by vines and flowers. His hat was in his hand, black with gold details and a white feather. His coat and matching breeches were a dusty pink color with silver and gold embroidery forming dandelions and leaves. His waistcoat was a pale gray. His cheeks were sharp. His chin and jaw were strong. His hair was loose and black.

Such a handsome man!

Muriel actually blushed.

But she didn't want to say anything about it.

She mumbled to herself about how pretty dandelions are and went down the halls. Then she stopped again because she realized she was lost. She groaned and slapped her own brow. It was time to find a servant and ask for help.

***

The women were working on colorful embroidery again. This time, Muriel was finishing up a small image of flowers in a wreath. The Princess brought up the time of year. "There isn't as much snow. It won't be long before the Capital Season arrives."

Spring and summer were the times when the most stylish and normally wealthy people went to the capital to enjoy all sorts of things, especially tourist attractions and balls.

"Yes, Madam," Muriel said as her eyes stayed on her stitches. "It's a pity that His Highness can't enjoy the excitement."

"Have you been paying any sort of attention, Muriel?"

Muriel's fingers paused and she looked up at the princess' bizarrely kind visage. Her eyes were much softer than normal. Her face was much less tense than it normally was.

Lightly, almost whispering, Muriel asked, "Have I offended you?"

Princess Arya's cheeks rose as she smiled. "What a silly girl. No. I've decided to keep you, and since you'll be seen with me, you'll need to look your best. You'll have to go to the city with me to purchase all the pretty things you'll need for the Capital Season."

Well ... this was ... good?

Muriel shook her head. "I don't know if I can afford anything up to your standards."

The princess' expression didn't change. "This is a requirement for your new position. How could you imagine that I'd be inhumane enough to demand you sacrifice your allowance for it?"

Muriel looked down at her worn hands. Sometimes, they bled and stung little. "I ... I didn't expect this."

"That's not important to me, Muriel. All I care for now is making you appear suitable." Princess Arya put her fingers in a sewing basket, possibly to find a certain color of thread. "Beauty is half nature and half nurture. Nature's done all it can with you, so why don't we try nurturing you into something nice?"

***

It had been a good while since Muriel had done the more frivolous kinds of shopping. Seamstress shops for ordering new clothing. Cosmetics shops for various creams, powders, rouges, and other items for rejuvenating or painting the flesh. Fragrance shops for perfumes and colognes. Milliners' shops for hats. So many things! Princess Arya even took Muriel to a jewelry store and purchased a few pieces to wear on special occasions. They weren't foolishly expensive, but they were certainly fancy.

This was so wrong.

Muriel kept mental notes in the back of her thoughts to check everything for poisoned pins or medicinal smells before using anything.

When she was back at the castle with a new jar of hand cream, something odd was requested of her. The princess said that she should sit near a window in one of the sitting rooms. The windows there were bigger, and she claimed that the creams would be more successful if her hands could take in the winter sunlight, or what little sunlight that was left in the day.

This logic ... well ... it didn't seem to be true logic in Muriel's mind. What in the world could winter sunlight do? Honestly?

But she wasn't able to refuse without risking her livelihood.

So, Muriel sat in a sitting room, in an armchair near a large window, and rubbed cream into her hands. Beforehand, while she was still in her bedroom, she sniffed and examined the cream to the best of her admittedly limited abilities.

She let her hands dry close to the window, and she wondered about the true reason behind all of this. Why was she being so well cared for? Why was she asked to apply cosmetics outside of her private bedroom?

Something similar happened the next morning. After she got dressed, she studied and thought to experiment with her new face powder and rouge. The princess sent a message asking Muriel to apply the makeup the same room she had first used the cream. In fact, she asked for more than that. She asked Muriel to have her hair styled there too.

What in the ...?

Did the princess want some kind of proof to show that Muriel was doing these things?

Muriel severely doubted that winter sunlight had anything to do with this.

She placed her mirror on the windowsill in that sitting room. Then she wrapped cloth around her shoulders and bosom to protect her clothing. A maid kindly helped her comb and arrange her hair. A set of curling tongs had been heated up in some coals beforehand so they could make forced curls. In the end, the hair was smoothly pinned back into a bun just above the nape. With the help of a copper filigree comb and some mild hair wax, all the curls were arranged to seemingly fall over the bun and down her nape like a waterfall.

Then it was time for the makeup. Two layers of egg whites were brushed onto her face and allowed to set. Then it was wiped away with linen dipped in rose water. Very small amounts of carefully chosen powder of a pale flesh color was mixed with water in a bowl. The resulting paste was dotted only on certain imperfections. Then it was blended in.

Was someone watching all this? If so, why? It wasn't particularly fascinating for most people.

Some pink powder was soon mixed with water so it could be painted onto Muriel's lips. Red and pink were both highly popular, but sometimes shades of brown and orange were also seen on women. Muriel thought that pink would complement her features the best.

"You look so elegant," the maid said to her.

"Thank you." Muriel certainly thought she looked glamorous, at least. "I suppose all that's left are the cheeks." The maid then put subtle pink spots on her face, imitating a natural flush.

"When your hands heal, you'll be like a white feather on a silk pillow, perfect and soft," the maid told her with a smile.

In the mirror, Muriel saw Princess Arya enter the room. "Oh," the princess breathed out, "are you finished?"

Muriel rose. Both she and the maid curtsied. "Is this satisfactory, Your Highness?" Muriel asked.

Princess Arya stood before her and moved her head and torso into interesting angles so she could have multiple vantage points. Then she had Muriel slowly spin around twice. "You've improved significantly." She turned around. "Now come. Let the maid put your things away while we have tea."

***

A few days before the Capital Season was about to happen, Muriel was allowed to visit her family. She arrived in one of the gowns that had been ordered for her. It was one of the plainer outfits, but it was much finer than anything she had worn in the last few years.

Her father cheered when he saw her. Then he hugged her, kissed her hair, and held her hands for a long time. She was wearing gloves, but she still felt his warmth.

"Oh Muriel, your face is bright and full! You must have been taking good care of yourself."

"My mistress has been very kind to me," Muriel told him. Then she went to hug her sisters. After all, she did love them. She had even missed them a little while she had been away. They were in mostly sour moods, but they complimented and congratulated her.

Muriel soon learned of wonderful news. Evelyn was engaged to marry a lower sort of baron. Why Evelyn was still bitter was a little mystery to Muriel at first. She later figured out that Evelyn was upset because her betrothed's most recent gift didn't match her ideal concept of a gift. As for Sarana, she was upset because her little sister would be married first.

Muriel was looking forward to seeing her sisters on a dance floor somewhere.

She gave her family the sweetest goodbyes that day.

Then spring came, and so did the Capital Season. Muriel rode with her mistress inside a big carriage. Her skirts were nearly as wide as the princess'. The extra space was required. They had to sit across from each other.

And soon, they were riding in the capital, Padulan. It was the largest city in Norantha, very worthy of being the capital. The buildings were a mixture of old and new. The residential district Muriel and Princess Arya went to was mostly made of fairly new buildings. The townhouse the carriage parked at was big and pale yellow with many windows and a blue roof.

Muriel asked the princess, "Does your son own this building?"

"Certainly," replied the princess. "I depend on him."

"He must love you dearly."

With a short nod and a smile, the princess said, "He's a good boy."

Muriel was granted a room in the townhouse, just as she was in the castle. It was smaller, but clean and pretty. Once her things were put away, she went with the princess to a very stylish little cafe to have some pancakes sprinkled with chopped spring fruits. Muriel had wanted to rest, but she was required to do as the princess wished, and the princess wished to be out and about.

After that little meal, Princess Arya wanted to go to a bookstore. Muriel sighed and went with her to that place. Then, once a few books were purchased, it was time to go to the townhouse, but not for a rest. They had to change clothes, put on charming sun hats that were fastened under their chins with ribbons, and go to a horse race. That was very fun, but Muriel was already getting tired.

Lunch was taken in a restaurant. Then they finally went to the townhouse for a rest, but there would be a ball soon, so they needed to rest quickly. Muriel took the greediest nap. Her dreams were repeating memories of the day's events.

Muriel remembered how sometimes people who knew the princess would approach and chat, and how the princess would introduce her to them. She remembered how she thought to herself that these people likely thought they were better than her. She also remembered how bright everything was. It was like a fantasy world.

It was also pretty stressful, but there was nothing to do for it except to adapt. Her sisters lived a similar life, events and flashiness and other nice things. Now it was Muriel's turn.

And hey, it was much better than doing chores.

When Muriel woke up it was time for her first real ball. She wanted to be excited, but she was concerned. What if her mistress would accuse her of outshining her? "How dare you dance with more men than me?!" That sort of thing.

Thankfully, once they were in a dance hall, dressed nicely enough to stop anyone in their tracks, the princess actually encouraged her to make eye contact with certain men and see if she could "trick" them to ask for a dance.

And she danced!

So many men were interested in her, it seemed. The princess even told her, "You're becoming quite popular. It's because of your beautiful face and tasteful figure." Muriel thought that might have been one of the princess' more amiable statements with perhaps some honesty, and that frightened her.

The men were only dancing with her because she was pretty. What other sorts of attention could her appearance gain? What if she ended up raped and dead in some wealthy man's cellar?

Well, not all rape victims were considered to be pretty, but still!!

Prettiness attracts more people, doesn't it?

Which meant, according to Muriel's logic, she would be that much more likely to encounter a dangerous man.

That's how her mother died, after all, being to close to a dangerous man.

The man she had been having an affair with.

And Muriel's father still forgave her in the end.

"She didn't deserve what happened to her," he had said.

But Muriel still believed that she shouldn't be too eager with men.

***

The next few days were similar, busy and full of fun things.

One evening, at a ball, Muriel happened to see a shy woman sitting at a wall. Part of her face was covered with her hair's braids and some lace, covering her left eye, but Muriel thought she recognized her. It was the woman with a round face and brown eyes, the woman that had been accused of being a fairy in the streets. While Princess Arya was dancing with an older man, Muriel sneaked on over to the round faced woman and sat down beside her.

With a light smile, Muriel said to her, "I haven't seen you in a while. How are you?"

The woman's fingers squeezed very tightly over the closed folding fan in her lap. She looked up at Muriel with quivering lips. Muriel really couldn't see her left eye. "Oh, hello. Have you been well?"

"I'm well, thank you." Muriel used her thumb to slide her fan just a bit open. "I don't believe I've ever asked for your name."

"Oh!" The woman jumped up from her seat. "My mistress is calling me! Forgive me!"

Muriel watched the woman's skirts bounce and flutter as she skittered away and disappeared among the other party guests.

Oh ... well ... alright then.

Muriel got up and went back to her previous spot so she could wait for her own mistress.

***

This morning would be stressful. Muriel hoped she didn't embarrass her mistress.

They were preparing for a trip to the Royal Palace, where the king and his immediate family resided. Prince Vidar Petran, Princess Arya's younger son, would normally be required to make appearances at the Royal Court once a year. Since he was mostly stuck in bed, his mother had to represent him. That meant that Muriel would be there too. The princess had kindly taught her basic court etiquette, but Muriel was still worried.

One main concern the princess had was repeating to Muriel over and over that unless she was being directly addressed by a member of the royal family, she shouldn't make direct eye contact with them. That seemed peculiar, but Muriel saw no reason to disobey.

She also had to wear the most formal, most impractical, brightest and laciest clothing in her wardrobe. Her skirts were only slightly narrower than the princess', only slightly. Packing it all away was a challenge. When Muriel was in her nicest traveling dress, Princess Arya asked to have a private conversation with her. So, Muriel let the princess into her bedroom.

Princess Arya balanced herself on a stool. Her skirts drooped on each side of her body. Her eyes were low. "Muriel, you must obey me. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Madam," Muriel said automatically as she sat on an ottoman.

"This is extremely crucial," said the princess. "You must listen and obey."

Slowly nodding, Muriel agreed. "Yes, Madam. I have no reason to misbehave. You've been too good to me."

Princess Arya sighed so heavily that her bosom seemed to jiggle. "Muriel, when you are at the palace, you must stay close to me. No matter what anyone says, you must be close to me. Do you understand?"

"Your Highness, are you concerned that I might damage your reputation?"

The princess looked away. "Don't let yourself be alone with any man. I truly mean any man."

"Oh, have I done something to have you doubt me?"

"Damn it, Muriel!" The princess actually hit her silk and linen covered thigh with a tight fist. "I trust you! The people living in the palace are a different matter!"

"Oh!" Muriel's eyes were incredibly wide. "Then I must thank you for thinking of my safety."

"I don't care for that flattery. I want you to promise to be cautious and obey me."

Nodding again, Muriel agreed. "I'll stay as close as you demand. I'll obey any command you give me, and I certainly will do everything I can to never be alone with a man while I'm in the palace."

Princess Arya stood up and thanked Muriel for her time. Then she left the bedroom.

***

The Royal Palace was an amazingly large building of pale cream, white, and pale brown bricks. A hedge maze of a garden was behind it. A cobblestone floor, a round fountain, and large white statues were in the front. Princess Arya and Muriel were led through what was possibly the grandest entrance hall of any building in the nation, or at least Muriel thought so. The walls were white with gold details. The floor was mostly covered by a deep red rug. The impressive staircases had similar red stair runners.

Up the staircases, then more staircases, and the women were taken to two bedchambers across from each other. Princess Arya gave Muriel's room an quick inspection first, walking around and pointing her disagreeable eyes everywhere. Then she told Muriel to freshen up and dress up in one of her best formal court gowns, but she insisted that Muriel wasn't allowed to leave the bedroom without her permission.

Almost forgetting that she was apparently in a dangerous place, Muriel looked over her clothing with girlish excitement. She ended up choosing a dark orange gown with a tight robe that was pinned in place over the matching stomacher and underskirt, but it still exposed both of those pieces. That robe had layers of lace at the elbows and more lace on its borders; there was also a significant train. Muriel admired the gown's other details as a maid tended to her hair. White bow-knots and festoons, occasional brooches of pearl clusters, a light pattern of pale blue flower petals seeming to flutter down. She almost felt as if she was the princess.

Once her hair and makeup was finished, Muriel collected all her accessories and waited for her mistress to call on her. When she was allowed to leave, Muriel took a moment to applaud the princess' gown. She even smiled and clapped her hands. "Oh, Your Highness, you're so perfect!" She was in a pale lilac gown with a much longer train than Muriel's. There were also brooches of yellow faceted gemstones, black bow-knots, and of course the always popular lace.