The Most Beautiful Eyes Ch. 11

"My heart ... my heart ... it's hurting."

Normally, Muriel would have found that statement to be childish, but Prince Vidar said it with such intense pain that Muriel couldn't find any fault in his words. She didn't need to see him in order to know that he was in a bit of despair.

"I watched him, and I would've thrown him out a window, but the quickest route to him from the secret corridors was still not short enough. Doctor Bergson has my gratitude."

Muriel turned to her left. That's where the voice was coming from. "Would you have revealed yourself in order to save her?"

"That was my thought. It was an impulse, but I was willing to do it. Sadly, the secret corridors were not designed with entrances to most of the rooms in the keep."

"I'm certain that you would have been mortified. Your brother would likely have done what he could to humiliate you."

"A far better fate than having my mother go undefended."

Muriel nodded. "You're a good son."

He touched her throat very kindly, very sweetly. His fingernails had her shivering. They were short and blunt. "I feel ... I feel heavy and ill, as if my blood thickened and my muscles weakened."

His hand ... it trembled against her.

She heard a sniffle.

"Vidar, are you frightened?"

"Ye ... yes ... I mean to say ... I was frightened, but now I'm so ashamed and livid. I'm the master of this estate. The ruler of this province. I'm the princess' son. It was my duty to protect her, to protect everyone here, and I didn't." His hand moved up to her cheek. "Why aren't you disgusted with me? What if he had attacked you? Wouldn't you blame me for being so much less than a man?"

In truth, Muriel wanted to scold him. If he hadn't been hiding, he would have been able to get to his mother, probably before the doctor could have. But she didn't have the strength to. Prince Vidar's regretful voice drained all the fire out of her. "It was a dangerous situation, nowhere close to the ideal," she softly told him, "but perhaps we could learn from those events."

His thumb glided over her lips, careful and smooth but not too smooth. Muriel thought he might use pumice stones and wine to keep most of the calluses away. Occasionally she might feel something rough but she never commented on it.

His breath was close to her face.

"My brother wants to control you, Muriel. That's why he wants your attention. You're not doing as you should, or that's how he thinks. A woman should accept lavish gifts from royalty. A commoner should give into a prince's demands. He's the Crown Prince. He should have any woman he wants, but you're not playing his game. Those sorts of thoughts are why he came here. But the solution isn't to give into his demands. If you do that," here, Vidar's breath moved in and out in an uneven way as if he was trying to calm himself, "you'll be shattered."

"Vi ... Vidar!" Muriel entire body was suddenly cold. She quivered and tried not to weep. "I've often been afraid of some men, but never before have I felt so helpless at the mere thought of any person!"

"Oh ... Muriel!"

His fingers went to her topknot. His mouth went to hers.

It was affectionate, but it was also the saddest kiss she had ever received. He basically cried into her. She felt tears roll onto her cheeks, nose, and lips. For a mad second she thought she might drown in the man's tears.

***

The day after Prince Emil had been kicked out of the castle, Princess Arya went to visit Prince Vidar alone. Of course, nobody was allowed to follow her. She stayed up in the prince's quarters for approximately an hour.

Then later, in the evening, Princess Arya told Muriel to follow her to an empty room that was almost never used. The ever loyal Doctor Bergson stayed outside the door to keep a lookout. The women sat down on cushioned stools and kept their voices low.

"I honestly wish it was easier to find good servants," the princess said with a sigh.

Quite a few servants had been questioned, and some had confessed to telling Prince Emil about Vidar's gifts to Muriel. They didn't understand why he gave her gifts. So there was only so much information they could give him. That was of little importance in the princess' mind. She had personally slapped each of their faces and ejected them from the castle. Servants were expected to keep their masters' business out of their mouths, you see.

"I'm quite disheartened for you," Muriel said as she folded her hands together.

Princess Arya shook her head. "I shouldn't have mentioned the issue. We have a much more difficult series of knots to untie."

"Yes, Madam," Muriel said with a sad nod. "If there's anything I can do, please give me the order."

"Well, there might be something for you to do."

Muriel wondered what in the world the princess had spoken to her son about.

"I never wanted my dear Vidar to hide himself. I wanted him to face the world as any man should." Princess Arya reached up to angrily pinch and jiggle an ornamental comb that was in her hair. The shadows on her frown had her looking very grave and tired. "But he was too devastated. He begged me to keep his form a secret, and I'm ashamed to admit this, but I agreed to it. But now, this has become too onerous, and it's my opinion that for his own survival he needs to go to his father and tell everyone what happened to him."

Muriel let her fingernails scratch at her palm. "Do you suppose he'd be willing to do such a thing?"

"There's a possibility," the princess said as she pulled the comb out of her hair. Then she put it on the other side of her head. She didn't seem to need a mirror. "However, he'll need you to do something."

Her heart soaring into a state of pure exhilaration, Muriel touched her neckline and said with a breathy tone, "Anything, Madam. Anything."

"Hmmmm ... I'm not sure if you'd be willing. My son might wish to discuss it when he next sits beside you." She laced her fingers together hear her belly. "You'll need to keep a tolerant mind, and please be patient. This is a difficult issue, and dear Vidar's mental health is at stake ... or rather ... his existence could be at stake."

His existence?

Muriel didn't want this conversation to end. "Madam, please tell me what I must do."

Princess Arya shook her head. "It's not my place to ask it of you, but I will say this. If you agree, and you see my son with your own eyes ... and then you suddenly disagree ... please don't betray him. Don't cry the truth to the world without his consent. If you do, then once again I must warn you. We will have our revenge."

"No matter what his appearance is," Muriel told her, "I swear I will not reveal him. If anyone else learns of this truth, then I want it to be of his own accord."

Princess Arya nodded. "Yes, well ... I don't want to give you any details ... you should ... you should agree to his suggestion first. Then he'll reveal himself."

"This action you want me to take," Muriel said as she leaned in a bit, "it must be something quite necessary. Is my reasoning correct?"

"Yes, but my Vidar has to be the one to tell it to you. Otherwise, it will all be tainted in a way."

"I'm afraid I don't understand. I'm not as clever as you."

Princess Arya waved her fingers at her, "Don't be such a negative thing." She rose from her stool. "Hopefully, you'll have the matter discussed tomorrow, and perhaps you'll have made your decision soon after."

***

Muriel's feet were light, and she walked ahead of Doctor Bergson for a change. She was smiling. She was ready. Whatever Prince Vidar wanted her to do, she'd do it. Anything he desired, anything she could possibly do, she'd do it. That's how badly she wanted him to come out of this miserable state.

Inside the Empty Room, Muriel skipped her way to the chair. She happened to notice that the doctor was smiling down at her. He reminded her of her father when he was feeling indulgent. He tied her ankles and wrists in their places. He tied the blindfold on her head. He asked her if she was comfortable.

"I'm fantastic, Sir."

"Very good, then." She heard him go to the door, open it, walk out of the room, and then close that door.

Muriel started humming as Prince Vidar made his typical noisy entrance. She was whistling when he knocked on the door to signal the doctor, who then said, "That's fine. I'm off."

The door's sliding lock sounded heavy, but Muriel was used to that.

The cushion was on Muriel's left this time. She had seen it before, and that was where Prince Vidar's comfy warmth and soft breath settled down.

"Muriel?"

She stopped whistling. "Good afternoon, Vidar! Are you well?"

"I ... I can't answer accurately that."

Her head leaned a bit towards his voice. "Oh, are you ill? That breaks my heart, truly. Have you asked the kind doctor for a remedy?"

His long fingers lightly folded over her gloved left hand. "Muriel, listen. I need to be sincere and open. I need to tell you the truth."

Muriel's lips scrunched only for a moment as she held back a pinch of laughter. "Yes, that's fine. Go on."

Lips on her ear.

She quivered and murmured, "Ohhhh, that's so lovely." Her thighs squeezed together as her womanhood clenched at the memory of his touch.

Hushed, fond, Vidar's voice rolled into her.

"Muriel, please forgive me. I've fallen desperately in love with you."

Her lips parted. Her toes and fingers tingled. "You ... you have?"

"I'd never lie about that." He didn't sound offended. He sounded like he wanted to melt into her, let her body absorb him like cream into flesh.

"Vidar ... I ... I wish I could put my arms around you!" Her arms uselessly tugged and shook. The hand on hers tightened.

"Aren't you meant to give me your feelings?" the prince asked.

"Well, of course. I'm in love with you too, but isn't it obvious?!"

He gasped as he drew back. His hand slid away. "I assumed you'd be loyal at the very least, but you also love me?"

"You watch me so often, but you couldn't understand that simple fact? Have you been eating lead?" She turned her head so her hidden eyes and hopeful lips could face him. "You poor, dear man. I've loved you for ... oh I don't know how long."

"Oh ... my Dearest!!"

A kiss then, a passionate kiss that felt like climbing, then falling, then splashing into a hot pool of comfort.

Vidar moved back, his lips popping off of hers. Then he rushed out so many endearments with light kisses between them. Rose Bud, kiss. Little Star, kiss. Sweet Cream, kiss. On and on. Muriel lost count.

But he soon put an end to that, and he whispered to her, "Muriel, would you please marry me?"

"Huh?" That was all she could think of to say at that moment.

"Marry me, Muriel." A kiss on her cheek. "Please be my wife."

"Is that what you need me to do in order for you to go out to the public?"

"Oh?" She felt him affectionately scratch the back of her head. Muriel nearly purred at the feeling. As Vidar gave her his lovely little scrapes, he said, "How can I find the strength to face the world without you by my side?" But his fingers paused in her hair, and he sighed against her throat. There was a whimper. "Muriel?"

"Yes? What is it?"

"I'm frightened."

Muriel tried to nuzzle him, but his face was too far away. She made a little huff of a sound and asked, "Oh, why are you frightened?"

"When you see me ... you might run away and never let me have you again. And ... and ..." He sniffed up something that was probably cold and hot at the same time. "If that happens, I might let the sea take me."

Shaking her head very quickly, Muriel told him, "No! Absolutely not! After everything that's happened, how could I run away?" Her shoulders jerked a bit. "The only problem I see is the idea of you marrying a commoner." Aristocrats and commoners have been marrying for centuries, but it was rare for a member of the royal family to marry anyone without a noble title. Most people thought it was an unwise thing to do. "But, I'll still marry you." she said. "I'd never refuse you."

"Muriel ... my perfect little Rose Bud!"

More kisses.

The rest of their time was spent with flowery love words and nothing more important than that, aside from one promise.

Prince Vidar told her that when night came he would be waiting in the Empty Room for her to come.

And there, she'd be allowed to see him.

Muriel was so thrilled.

One seemingly insignificant moment stayed in her brain, though. She felt one of his fingers lightly run back and forth over her blindfold, caressing her eyelids, as he spoke.

"I've never seen your eyes, or rather, not close enough to see their color. What color are they?"

"Blue-gray," she answered.

"Ah ... the sea during winter. That's a wonderful color."

Muriel imagined he was looking forward to seeing her eyes in the daylight, but she did wonder why their first meeting without a blindfold would have to be at night.

***

Princess Arya met Muriel and Doctor Bergson in a hallway only a few moments after Muriel's meeting with Prince Vidar. She told them to follow her to another barely used room with no servants about. And again, the doctor was a lookout for them.

Facing each other, they sat down.

"Did he ask you to marry him?" the princess asked as she looked down at her fingernails.

Muriel nodded and said, "Yes, Madam. If you feel insulted, then I sincerely apologize. I know a commoner wouldn't be worthy of your esteemed son."

A tick formed in Princess Arya's eyebrow, but after a few pulses it disappeared. "Muriel, a married man is often judged by his wife. I've done everything I can to grow a fine reputation for you. You're Muriel the Kind, the Well Spoken, the Frugal, and the Just. You're also Muriel the Beautiful. Even the highest aristocrats have asked me about you. You're one of the most desired women in Norantha."

Muriel's head moved at a curious angle as she blinked and uttered out, "Oh. That's ... that's a fine reputation to have."

Princess Arya continued. "If you agree to marry my son, we'll prepare the evidence showing that he is indeed Prince Vidar, then we'll go to the Royal Palace and confess our sin of dishonesty. The first stitch in the garment will be you, Muriel. The announcement of your engagement will uplift and revitalize him. What else would people think? 'Oh, if Muriel Devin, that woman with fine moral fiber, is willing to marry such a hideous thing, then he must be a good man!' That sort of thought. That's what we're hoping to put into the public."

There was a new realization stinging Muriel's thoughts and memories. The air felt unusually cold and thick as she looked at the princess' stony eyes. "Madam?"

"What is it, Muriel?"

"I'm afraid to say," Muriel put her hands to her bosom and pressed her knees together. "But this speculation I have ... it seems plausible."

Princess Arya shrugged. "Be direct, Child!"

"Ah, well ... I've wondered, Your Highness, if your son had this sort of plan for very long?"

"No. He never had a plan, but I did. I had this plan before I met you, Muriel, even before I began my search for the most proper companion."

Muriel's eyes closed, then opened very, very wide. "From ... the beginning, from the very beginning, even when you first met me ... you had this plan?"

Soberly, austerely, Princess Arya nodded.

Muriel's hands went to her lips and she whispered, "By the Creator."

"So, now you understand," the princess said. "The moment I decided to hire you was the moment you became precious to me. I encouraged you to be intimate with my son in the hopes that he'd fall in love with you. That's why I was so strict when choosing my companion. I had to be certain that she was beautiful but proper, and with a good heart. I planned this with the hope that my Vidar would find his strength again and return to his place in society."

Muriel looked down at her skirt, and she wondered what else could be in that woman's mind.

***

Dark, it was so dark, but the one thing on Muriel's mind was ...

What to wear? What to wear?!

Muriel knew that Prince Vidar was nervous about his appearance, but she thought she was feeling the same, even though he had his fill of her image for a long time now.

A formal gown with a wide skirt might be inappropriate. What if he wanted to do something that involved undressing? A more narrow skirt with a bum roll underneath would be better. She picked out a fawn colored skirt with a thick panel of ruffles bordering the hem. Then she put on a bodice in the pinkest variety of salmon. A matching overskirt was attached to it. She pinned a kerchief on the low neckline. A dark blue ribbon had been sewed on its edges. She hoped the color stood out against the rest of her outfit.

She washed her face and applied only a light amount of makeup, only enough to hide a few small flaws and make her cheeks a little pinker. Rouged lips might be too much, and possibly inconvenient. Her hair was already in a charming bun at her nape with some braids framing the hairline, but maybe an accessory would make it better? She looked in her jewelry case and found a small aigrette of faceted glass stones. A very small tuft of white feathers was attached to it. She would have normally worn such a thing at a fancy dinner or a ball, but she decided to pin it into one of her braids anyway.

With a light brown cloak on her shoulders, Muriel sighed at her reflection in a mirror and hoped she was lovely.

Then she grinned at herself. Her eyes were shimmering.

Someone knocked on the door. Doctor Bergson's voice went through the wood. "Miss Devin? Are you ready?"

"Yes, Doctor!" Muriel went to open the door and leave the room. Then she followed the doctor to Prince Vidar's quarters.

Right to the Empty Room.

They stopped at the door.

"I'm going to leave you here," the doctor said calmly. "I'm not going to wait outside. I'm going to walk away."

"Thank you, Sir." She curtsied to him even though she didn't have to.

With an almost wooden nod, Doctor Bergson said, "Please remember that the creature in that room has the mind of a man, and the heart too."

Muriel watched him walk away. The lit torches on the walls gave him an almost eerie figure. Then she took a refreshing breath and tapped her fist on the door.

"Your Highness? Prince Vidar? It's me. It's Muriel. May I come in?"

She heard his voice. It felt like a ship rocking in a wild ocean. "Yes? Please enter!"

Muriel opened the door.

The first things she thought were, "Will the colors of my outfit be too diluted in the night? Did I choose poorly?" Then she looked at the small fire glowing in the fireplace and thought, "Honestly, this should have been done in the morning."

Muriel's low slippers lightly patted the floor as she stepped inside. She turned around, closed the door, and slid the lock over it.

She turned back around.

Night. It hid almost everything. There were only two sources of light. The fireplace.

And.

In a corner, a far off corner.

A small oil lamp with a glass cover. It was on a little table. Beside the table, there was a thick stool and a tall figure sitting on it. Most of the characteristics were hidden, and not just by the lack of decent light. There was a black cloak wrapped around the body ... it was a fairly wide body. In fact ... the feet that peeked out from under the cloak looked unusually long and wide. They were in the kind of leather shoes Muriel had seen in centuries old art, simple and tied on the feet with strings. If the feet truly were so big, then the shoes made sense. He couldn't exactly get a cobbler to him, and those leather shoes were so simple and easy to make.

The head ...?

Muriel's brow furrowed and her foot stomped on the floor. If she had anything harmless but substantial in her hand, she would have thrown it at the man. She was very, very angry.