The Most Beautiful Eyes Ch. 13

In the next week or so, there were still moments where Muriel closed her eyes and stayed close to Vidar so they could kiss and share intimate touches. No matter how hideous Vidar was, he still felt and smelled lovely. Once, when two hands were on her shoulders, a third patted her back, and Muriel shook and whined as if she feared pain. She didn't believe she would be harmed. She was merely reacting to the eccentricity of it. Her brain wasn't used to it. Thankfully, Vidar seemed to understand and he removed the third hand.

The purchases that had to be delivered to the castle arrived safely, including Muriel's new betrothal ring. Often distracted by the glittering thing, Muriel found herself sighing and gazing at it, holding her hand out even when it wasn't convenient.

Another thing that was delivered to the castle was a letter from King Thorvaldo Petran. He seemed to be eager to have his supposedly cursed son come to the Royal Court and explain himself. Princess Arya later confided to Muriel, "We have some evidence to present to the king. The body of the wretched fairy that cursed Vidar, for example."

Muriel gasped and whispered to her, "Why do you have her body?"

"Placing a spell on someone without permission, especially a member of the royal family, is highly illegal. It was my duty to imprison her. Eventually, she committed suicide. So, we preserved her body in case it could be used to remove the curse. That was a false hope, but the corpse is still useful, isn't it? The mark is on her ankle."

Tugging on her new ring, Muriel turned away and muttered something light.

A corpse had been in the castle all along, and she hadn't known about it.

But that didn't matter. What did matter was the fact that Vidar had to show himself to his servants.

On a morning that was whispering the threat of winter into everyone's hearts, Princess Arya gathered all the servants and most of the guards into the foyer. As all the workers lined up on both sides of the blue rug on the floor, Muriel quickly scanned their bored faces and wondered how they'd take the shock. She followed Princess Arya to the rug between the servants, and when the princess stopped a foot or so inwards, so did Muriel.

"I have a confession for all of you," Princess Arya said as she stood firm and tall. "Your master has not been physically ill. He was cursed years ago. His body is hideous. He's decided to finally reveal himself to all of you and apologize for his dishonesty."

All the workers said in unison, "Yes, Your Highness!"

Princess Arya nodded and looked back towards the curved staircases. "Vidar?! Are you there?!"

Muriel turned around and laced her fingers as she too looked at the stairs. She held her breath.

From an archway, he emerged.

Slow, cautious, tall and nearly menacing, a shadow in broad daylight. One of the prince's unevenly colored hands claimed the safety of a white railing as his plain shoes carefully navigated down the steps. Each whole foot was slightly too big for each step. He had to move each foot sideways with each step to be stable. After around six steps, Vidar made a gruff hiss in his throat. Then he literally hopped, stretched out at least five of his long arms, gripped the railing, and literally climbed down to the foyer's floor without touching the steps.

Muriel's eyebrows rose as she looked away and made an uncomfortable exhale.

More than half of the workers were gawking at the creature that was apparently their master. The rest appeared to be visibly ill, but controlling themselves well. Muriel was happy to note that nobody was running away.

When Vidar was standing beside Muriel as a normal person would, he gave a bow to everyone present, and he said with a voice that might not have been loud enough for the circumstances, "I've deceived all of you. Please forgive me."

Fortunately, nobody had been talking. It was fairly quiet. Everybody heard him.

Princess Arya addressed everyone again. Her soft hand drew a horizontal line in the air before her. "This is my son. This is the man who pays all of your salaries. He will soon go to the king to apologize just as he has done for every one of you." She elegantly positioned her hands before her belly. "If anyone objects to serving him, then now is the time to leave."

Nobody seemed bold enough to try. They just stared at Vidar.

"Well," Princess Arya said, "then it's all settled. Return to your duties." She dusted a bit of lint off her skirts as the workers dispersed. "Let's have a walk." She walked over to Vidar and tugged on his cloak. "Come along, Dear. You haven't enjoyed the daylight in so long."

***

In the cold garden, Vidar took a cloth cap from somewhere in his clothes, under the cloak, and he put it on top of his bald head. Then he ... well ... stared at everything. From the sleeping trees to the harsh pathways. Even a lonely little insect buzzing about caught his eyes for a moment.

He was so quiet.

Muriel tried to respect that quiet. The princess seemed to silently agree with that sentiment. Both women allowed the prince to simply look at anything and everything without giving any comments.

He wandered around like a sad, lost child, as if he was afraid to go anywhere but believed he had to keep going in order to find his way. While some people would say that when you're lost you should stay put, in this case, Vidar had to find his old landmarks and learn them all over again.

Each woman stayed close, but not too close, watching Vidar, making sure he didn't have a nervous breakdown or something in that vein. He was mentally vulnerable, or they assumed he was.

After maybe fifteen minutes, Vidar found a decorative boulder. He sat down on it and quietly said to the women, "It smells different."

Muriel couldn't say if that was true or not. She walked over to the boulder and put on her best smile. It was a bit easier to look at him. Half of his face was hidden. "I'm here now, and that's different from the past, isn't it?"

Without looking up, Vidar nodded.

Princess Arya perched on a nearby bench and looked at Vidar with calm eyes but also a stern mouth. "You'd best not hide again. If you do, I'll drag you by all your arms back to the garden."

Muriel lowered her head as she said, "Perhaps His Highness would appreciate a hot cup of black tea? A fruity black tea?"

With a nod, the princess said, "Sweet and thick desserts are so fine when taken with that sort of tea, and my son does have a fondness for desserts."

So, the trio left the garden and asked for some tea and cookies to have in a sitting room.

The servants behaved as if they had been rushed. As soon as one maid put the tray down, she scurried away as if she thought someone would clutch at her apron.

Muriel took a seat beside Vidar and served his tea first. Then she poured a cup for her mistress. Muriel's cup was last.

But Vidar looked down at his steaming tea and sugary cookies as if he never expected to have anything of the sort before him. Muriel knew he had always eaten whatever he wanted, so the tea and cookies couldn't have been the issue haunting his mind.

She wasn't going to have any of this.

Muriel reached over to Vidar's bulky form and pulled on his cloak. "Please, won't you bare your mouth and take your treats?"

His eyes slowly turned towards her.

Muriel blinked a few times. "Please, Your Highness. Please don't embarrass your dear mother." She reached down to carefully pick up his saucer and teacup. "If I feed you as one would a small child, would you give in?" She kept her fingers tight in the cup's well carved handle. "Please lower your cloak."

She heard his gritty sigh. Then she saw two of his arms leave the cloak. One hand put his harsh nose and mouth in everyone's sight. Then he other took the cup from Muriel.

"There," Muriel said as she sat down and put the saucer back on the table, "you'll feel warm and happy soon."

Well ... he might feel warm. As for happiness, Muriel couldn't say. Her poor betrothed wasn't just ugly in this scene. He looked frigid and morose. Even the darker patches of color in his flesh had a faded cast. This wasn't what Muriel had expected. She thought he'd relax and soak everything in like a cat under sunlight.

When the tea was finished, Princess Arya suggested a time for reading or sewing. Vidar nodded but he put his mouth and nose back under his cloak. They went to a library to pick put some books, but they took those books back to the sitting room as a few maids went to get the women's sewing kits. Once everyone had what they needed, there was another quiet time.

For a while, Vidar didn't read. He gazed out a window even though the weather was uninteresting. When he finally grew tired of that, he picked up a book and flipped through the pages.

Muriel put her project on top of her sewing kit and slid a bit closer to Vidar. She whispered a question to him, "Are you unwell?"

"Hm? No. I'm fine."

"Are you? Truly?"

He closed his book. "I haven't done this in years. It's wonderful, but it's also strange. Let me adjust in my own time."

Feeling a bit of relief, Muriel patted one of his arms through his clothing. "If you need anything, don't hesitate. You're the master here." She hummed as she returned to her sewing.

During the following days, Vidar proved himself. Even though the servants were still jumpy around him, his cheer slowly returned to him. His odd gait became bouncier. He walked more. He went outside to pet the horses. He thought he was too heavy to ride them, but he actually said aloud that he was considering purchasing a thick and sturdy horse. Muriel grinned at that.

The meals were different from before. Vidar joined the women, and he spoke more and more as time went on. Muriel loved his company. He also played music for them. Muriel danced around to the piano songs. Princess Arya often laughed at that. When Muriel played the piano, however, Vidar wouldn't dance. He only sat down and listened. He later told her that he didn't have the bravery to try to dance. Muriel understood why he thought this way, but she was also disappointed.

***

Winter was beginning, and it was time for Prince Vidar to go to his father.

But it had to be done in a certain way.

Very early one morning, so early that it was still dark, Vidar squeezed into a carriage all by himself while the two women went into a different one. Then they rode on to the Royal Palace. The sunrise was painting the sky when they finally arrived at the large, pale building. Vidar discreetly entered through a side entrance. The curious and snobby looks from all the guards made Muriel want to chew on her lower lip.

The women went to their assigned rooms so they could dress up for their appearances. Muriel wore her best outfit yet. It was a rich midnight blue with white lace, black fur trimmings, and an overskirt with a train. Brooches of silver with milky opal stones were pinned in rows on the edges of the robe, lightly bordering the stomacher and underskirt. Her square neckline was so low that too much activity could have her nipples slipping out. A lace choker was on her throat, and there was also a long chair of silver with a large opal pendant dangling just into her cleavage. Her pale hair was teased and puffed a bit high. A small cap of white silk and more lace was pinned on top; there was an opal pin with a white feather there, along with lappets falling down her nape.

Still, Princess Arya was higher in rank than her, much higher, and she was allowed the most finery. More jewels, a longer train, and finer materials overall. Even her hair was in a flashier style, taller and fuller with strings of gemstones and very long feathers. This would likely be the standard even after Muriel married her son.

The women quietly marched on to the glittering throne room, where several nobles, attendants, servants, and the royal family waited. The sparking Queen Consort was standing on the king's right, as she normally did, but Muriel happened to glance at her pale green eyes for only a second, and she saw that the queen seemed worried. Crown Prince Emil was also at his place, to the king's left. Muriel didn't even try to look at his eyes. She didn't want to.

Both women curtsied very deeply. Princess Arya gave the king a humble verbal greeting. Then she said, "I imagine you already know this, but our dear son Vidar has asked my paid companion to marry him. I hope you won't be distressed by this news."

Muriel heard the light buzzing of the audience whispering their rumors and such. She froze her face into an emotionless expression and looked down at King Thorvaldo's silver colored breeches and white stockings.

The king stood up from his throne and said, "I've certainly heard of this, but I'm puzzled. Isn't Vidar so terribly cursed that he is nearly unrecognizable?"

"I'm afraid so, Your Majesty," Princess Arya said with a tiny yet somber nod of her head. The feathers in her hair visibly palpitated. "Yet, his resolve has strengthened, and he'll be very obedient once you summon him. I have Miss Devin to thank for that miracle."

The king's fingers twitched a bit. "I don't believe you have any reason to deceive me, but common sense demands that once this cursed creature walks into this throne room he should be tested."

"I completely understand," said the princess. "I'd do the same were I in your position. He's prepared to do anything you require to prove that he is indeed your younger son."

"I should hope so. I have coroners and physicians examining that corpse you brought as we speak." King Thorvaldo walked down the steps from his throne and down to a spot around two feet away from the women. "Miss Devin?"

Muriel curtsied again. "How may this humble civilian serve His Majesty?"

"Princess Arya is a strict woman. She'd never hold you so closely if you weren't a person of excellent character. When Prince Vidar asked you to marry him, why did you agree?"

The polished fingernails of one of Muriel's hands lightly touched her mostly revealed bosom as she spoke. "Before I give the answer, I must apologize to my king."

More whispers among all the watching elites. Muriel ignored it all even though her belly was icy.

"I am nothing more than a simple commoner," she continued. "Even so, I have agreed to marry a man so high above me that it's truly an insult to his family. I hope one day that my king will forgive my transgression against the royal family." Another humble curtsy. "But His Highness is kind and brilliant. I find no fault in his temperament, and I am enchanted by his skills. When he proposed marriage to me, I was overtaken by perfect joy. To have such a wonderful example of manhood ask to have me was so grand. I was unable to disappoint him. Once I agreed, I later realized my mistake, but I knew I couldn't change my answer. That would have broken his heart, and I'd never do anything against him. This, Your Majesty, is why I'm determined to marry your son."

Without saying anything, King Thorvaldo stood there for a while as the audience continued with their low voices. A bit louder than those voices, however, was the hardly contained laughter coming from Crown Prince Emil.

Eventually, the king asked Muriel, "Do you have a betrothal ring?"

"Yes, Your Majesty," Muriel said as she lifted her hand up for his eyes. "His Highness was very generous."

"I suppose that's fair enough," the king said. "Lower your hand."

As Muriel obeyed, she heard an attendant cry out, "Your Majesty! The physicians and coroners have arrived! They've finished their examination!"

"Send them in," the king commanded.

"Yes, Your Majesty."

Some short moments later, four men entered the throne room. They stopped just behind the trains of Princess Arya's and Muriel's gowns. They bowed and simultaneously greeted the king.

"Give me the results of your examination," King Thorvaldo said with a wave of his hand.

One of those men said, "The corpse was a woman's. We found a mark on her ankle. It's a semicircle of a purple so dark that we thought it was black. We pricked the mark with a sharp bone needle dipped in a mixture of boiled water and honey. The needle's point turned as green as a fairy's stone. We believe the mark is a true fairy mark. We were unable to determine if the woman was a fairy, however, because the corpse is so old."

Muriel suddenly thought to herself, "Oh, you can check to see if a mark was given by a fairy? I might try that later."

"That's very well," the king said. He turned to Princess Arya. "Assuming this creature I'll summon is indeed my son Vidar, he would have the same mark on his ankle."

"Yes, Your Majesty," the princess said.

"Then send him in!" the king said as he seemed to chop the air with his hand. "Send this creature to this room immediately!"

"Yes, Your Majesty," an attendant said.

The four men that had examined the fairy's corpse moved off to one side of the rug as everyone waited for Prince Vidar.

The tall entrance doors opened.

Muriel held her breath.

She cringed at all the gasps.

The Queen Consort screamed. She literally ran to a side door and frantically slammed it open, not even waiting for a servant. As she ran away, the king took some steps backwards.

Crown Prince Emil was laughing so hard that he had to crouch down and press his hand into his belly. Muriel despised that noise.

"What ... what is this?!" That was the king.

Thick, padding footsteps, moving closer and closer to the women. When he was just beside Muriel, her eyes dared to touch him for a moment.

Poor Vidar. He always wore the same thing, basically. Homemade clothing with function burying all sense of style. He bowed down once, and then he opened up some of his cloak so he could let some of his many arms stretch out.

More people, mostly women, cried out and left the room.

But Muriel's spine was straight and firm.

Vidar spoke. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have locked myself away for so long. I put a great burden on my mother and deceived my father. I hope I can be forgiven."

The king's hand rose as if he wanted to reach out, but it fell back down within two seconds. "You ... you sound exactly as Vidar should, but ... but you will be tested." He waved at the four men who had examined the fairy's corpse. "Come and see if his ankle has the mark."

Muriel politely turned her head so she didn't have to watch the men hurry over to Vidar. She heard them adjust his clothing so they could see his ankle. She assumed they were poking the mark with a bone needle. Vidar didn't make a sound. Other people did.

Prince Emil was muffling his laughter with his hands while some other court members were still giving horrified outbursts.

Some short minutes later, Muriel heard Vidar's clothing being put back in order. Then one of the men said, "The mark on his ankle matches the mark on the corpse, and the needle's point is green. This is indeed a fairy's mark."

"Ah ... thank you. You're dismissed," King Thorvaldo said as he folded his hands together. As the men left, the king said to Vidar, "I have many letters and other documents with your signature on them, some from before you hid yourself away and claimed you were ill." He nodded. "The papers and pen, please?"

An attendant approached. He held a silver tray. On the tray, there were a few sheets of paper, a bowl of ink, and a quill pen. The king gestured towards these items. "Write your signature at least four times, even more if you have the patience for it."

"Yes, I will," Vidar said as he took the pen. He dipped the point in ink and wrote his name on the paper a few times.

When that was done, the attendant said he would take the papers to be examined by a graphologist that was waiting in a nearby room. While he was gone, the tension was enough to make Muriel want to faint, but she didn't. She only gave Vidar a shy glance.