The Most Beautiful Eyes Ch. 03

But Princess Arya's face was tense. "Yes, Muriel. You're always ready to praise me. That's very well but we should hurry." She made a flourish with her folding fan. It felt mechanical. "Follow me."

Down some hallways, down many stairs, and they waited at a pair of tall doors for someone to announce their presence. Then they walked into a throne room full of people. Muriel followed the princess down a rug to the end of a set of stairs, which led up to the throne, where the king sat. His current wife was standing on his right. The Crown Prince was standing on his left. Muriel had kept her eyes down, however, and she only saw these people's skirts and shoes.

Both women curtsied. Princess Arya spoke to the king. "Greetings to His Majesty."

The masculine voice that reached Muriel's ears seemed tired and dull. "Good morning, Arya. Is Vidar well?"

"I'm afraid not," the princess answered.

"Has his condition worsened?"

"I wouldn't say so, but I'm not a physician. I can't give an accurate judgment."

"That's fine. We'll discuss his interests and concerns during tea after lunch." That meant that Muriel and her mistress would have to change clothes again, which nearly had Muriel pouting. "You may go," the king said.

"Thank you, Your Majesty."

The women left to return to their rooms, where they later had lunch.

***

The round tea table was on the polished floor of a long veranda that was near a small, man-made pond full of fish of nearly every color. Muriel was given a cup of tea and a small serving of treats, but she wasn't allowed to engage in any conversation. She silently remained by Princess Arya, who was speaking with the king.

The king was a tall man with droopy gray eyes and a hooked nose. His skin was fairly light. His hair was brown and thinning. He didn't look very extraordinary, aside from his rich clothing. His name was Thorvaldo Petran, and the most significant thing Muriel knew about him was that Princess Arya actually divorced him.

He was terse with the princess. He did listen to her when she spoke, however. When the princess handed the king an envelope that had their younger son's wax seal on it, he took it and read the message inside very carefully. The wax seal had a special symbol in it, a stag leaping over a stylized logogram.

Muriel was almost bored. If she didn't have all the lovely clothing, the splashing and gurgling fishes, the gardens, and palace architecture to admire, she would have felt a tad gloomy.

When it was over, both women curtsied to the king and walked down the veranda.

And ... suddenly, Princess Arya stopped walking, which meant that Muriel had to stop too. The princess reached behind herself as if she was trying to hide something. Her voice hissed out, "Take my hand!"

Muriel immediately took her hand. They weren't wearing any gloves.

And they walked again, their shoes banging on the floor. The princess said, "Don't look around! Look down!" She was resolute, like a boulder refusing to tumble.

"Y-yes Madam?" Muriel put her eyes down to their skirts and shoes.

"This isn't a carefree ball, do you understand? Keep your eyes down until I tell you differently."

What? Why?

But Muriel was compliant. Her eyes were down even when they were back inside the palace. They went on and on this way until they were in the hallway where their bedrooms were. That was when the princess let her raise her eyes and let go of her hand.

Princess Arya looked down at her with the most relieved expression Muriel had ever seen on her face, but she said, "Come to my room." Muriel nodded and followed her into her room. The princess locked them inside and demanded a card game. When the game was over, the princess unlocked the door, peeked around the hallway, and said, "Fine, you can go to your room now."

Muriel couldn't say that she understood what was happening. She was still docile, however, as she went to the door. Once she was in her room, she stayed there for the rest of the night. She even had dinner in there.

The next few days were fairly tedious. Muriel only left her room to follow Princess Arya somewhere, and while there were many beautiful things to look at, not much happened. Soon, it was time to return to the excitement of the Capital Season.

More delightful activities ensued, of course. They rode horses in a park in the spring and summer instead of on Prince Vidar's estate during winter and autumn. They watched concerts and plays. They danced and ate and had nice times. Muriel even saw her sisters at one small party. She also met the baron Evelyn was supposed to marry. He seemed civil enough.

When autumn was close, the women left Padulan. Inside the carriage, Princess Arya told Muriel, "You've done well, very well. You've behaved elegantly and looked much the same as you did so."

Muriel took the compliment quickly and coldly. "Thank you, Your Highness."

When they arrived at the Vantrim Castle, it was close to lunchtime. Most of the servants greeted the princess in the foyer with curtsies and bows.

The women changed into more casual clothing and took a meal of harvest soup in a baked half of a small pumpkin shell instead of a typical bowl. When the meal was done, the butler approached with two small wooden boxes in his hands, and he said, "His Highness has pined for you, Madam. He sent a man to the city to purchase a gift for you."

But ... Muriel couldn't help but notice that there were two boxes.

"Such a good boy," Princess Arya said as her fingers daintily tapped the dining table. "Put it here."

The butler put a box before the princess ... but he did the same with Muriel.

Muriel's nose wiggled as she wondered why this was so. Then, as the princess was tilting her lid back, Muriel asked the butler, "Is this box before me also for Her Highness?"

The butler shook his head back and forth. "No, Miss. His Highness decided you should also have a gift."

"But ... but Sir." Muriel's fingers nervously flew to her bosom. "I've never met the prince. He has no reason to give me anything."

"Hush, hush," the princess crooned as she took her gift out of its container. "Accept the thing, whatever it might be."

Princess Arya's gift was a small figurine of porcelain. It was shaped like a mother sow and her little suckling piglets on a bed of straw. Just the right amount of pink had been painted on the tiny creatures.

"Ohhhhhhh, it's a tender little thing!" the princess said as she held the figurine in her fingers. "I adore it! I'll keep it in my bedchamber." She put the figurine back into her box and turned to Muriel with a placid look. "Won't you reveal your gift?"

With hot cheeks and dubious eyes, Muriel opened her box.

Her feet, legs, thighs, and hands all chilled.

Safely kept on a pillow of white cloth, there was a large, nearly glowing gemstone of a deep red. It was in a briolette cut, and it almost looked like a murder weapon or a stupidly large drop of blood.

"This ... this is a mistake," Muriel said as panic pricked at her brain. "My gift was switched with my mistress'."

"No, Miss." The butler shook his head again. "His Highness was specific. The gemstone is for you."

Muriel folded her arms against herself. "I've never even seen him. I swear, I never meant for this to happen."

The princess's hand lightly tapped her shoulder.

Muriel stared up at her. She looked very pleased.

"Are you frightened, Muriel?"

"I ... Madam?"

Princess Arya seemed completely content. There was nothing negative or hateful about her features. "There's no need to be so distraught. I'm not angry. My son is a sad little introvert. It's extremely difficult for any woman to use him to skip any rungs on the social ladder, and you haven't done anything of the sort. You're proper and dignified. You may accept this gift with no shame."

The princess reached over to Muriel's box and picked up the gem. It filled up her palm. Some of light shone through the stone and onto her flesh. "You should go to a sitting room," the princess advised, "one with a big window, and watch how it plays with light."

"I ... I'm still confused, Your Highness. I don't know why he would give me such an expensive thing."

"Expensive? Hm?" The princess blinked a few times.

Then, very loudly, uncaring about it, she knocked the gem onto the table a few times. Muriel flinched at each loud noise she made. Then the princess put her eyes to the stone again. "No scratches, no dents, no cracks, nothing but smooth faces and lovely light. This is a true, natural, hard stone. It must be expensive, as you've said." She held the stone out to Muriel.

Muriel's hands were trembling as she cradled the great thing.

"Perhaps," the princess said, "when I told my son that you seemed quite meager once you first came here, he thought to give you something you could use as a dowry."

Only some of Muriel's precariousness melted away. Her fingers closed over the gem. "A pity gift?"

"It would be wise to think of it as an act of kindness."

"Yes, Madam." Muriel put the stone back in its box.

Some minutes later, Muriel was in a sitting room, watching the stone glitter in the sunlight. The princess sat beside her, reading a novel.

"Your Highness?"

"Hm?"

Muriel tapped the dull point at the smaller end of her stone with her finger. "Is someone watching me?"

"Ah ... well ... you should assume so." She almost sounded nervous.

"Is someone watching you?"

"Can you imagine that I'd be fascinating enough to watch?" Now she sounded tired.

"Well, you certainly are quite a woman."

"So are you, Muriel."

The princess didn't want to talk. Muriel knew it. If she pushed any longer she might be scolded. "My mistress is very kind," she said as she caressed her beautiful gemstone.

But Muriel thought she had an idea of who was watching her. What she didn't understand was how nor why.

***