The Most Beautiful Eyes Ch. 20

Author's Note: Sometimes I feel bad about writing short chapters. Other times, I feel that if a certain chapter was any longer, it would be a drag. I don't know.

***

They figured it out within a few hours.

On that embarrassing night when both Vidar and Muriel had been heavily drunk, they must have gone to each other, missing each other, loving each other. And although they had tried to have another sire a child with the Princess Consort, stupid luck tripped all over them, and that princess had given birth to a child that was certainly of Vidar's blood.

The process of giving birth had turned out to be fairly simple. Muriel was unharmed. After looking back on Vidar's worries, Muriel decided that he was completely in the right. He had only been thinking of her survival. He had done the right thing.

But now that they had what they didn't think they could have, a healthy child and a healthy mother, well, they both secretly agreed to never hire that blond man ever again.

Princess Arya held the child and murmured grandmotherly words against his cheek. Later, she whispered to Muriel, "You took a dangerous risk, but I'm happy to see the results."

The tiny prince was given the name Artair. He was easily irritated, but also easily calmed. He was a wiggling, kicking, loud thing with four curious hands, and Muriel loved every bit of him.

Once, Vidar carefully put the child to his face and smiled. It was an odd sight. Vidar's head was longer than Artair's whole body. The little baby wasn't frightened of him. He was too young to understand ugliness, or that was what Muriel assumed. In fact, Vidar often spoke to the boy with happy words, so the little prince was already learning that this "big weird thing" wasn't a threat, but a source of amusement instead.

Muriel's family came to coo at the child. Her sisters didn't agree to hold him, since he was such a peculiar little thing, but Glen Devin didn't care. He laughed and kissed the boy, and he said, "My Ferret has a little hob! A hobbie baby kit!"

Soon, it was time to present the little prince to the Royal Court.

Little Artair was wrapped in black silk with golden embroidery and hanging tassels. With his mother holding him carefully, he was slowly taken down the center of the throne room. Vidar was on Muriel's right. Princess Arya was on Muriel's left. A new person, a hired nanny/wet-nurse named Teresa, was behind them, just in case she was needed to help out with the baby.

They respectfully greeted the king. Then Muriel stepped forward and held the child out.

King Thorvaldo stepped down to her level and took the infant prince from her groomed hands. The king's gray eyes bulged as he peeked under the blanket to see his grandson's body. Then he looked down at Muriel with a shrinking mouth and reddening cheeks.

Muriel demurely smiled.

The king shrugged and addressed he court, loudly introducing the prince to everyone. Then, after everyone gave Artair their bows and curtsies, he was given back to his mother.

Later on, while Artair was being kept in a room with the wet-nurse, Muriel, Princess Arya, and Vidar had some tea with King Thorvaldo on the veranda near the pretty pond. The king was noticeably distant, and not in a physical way, but in an emotional way. He didn't look at Vidar's face, but rather, chose to look roughly in the middle of his body. Muriel couldn't blame him. Even she felt some disquiet on occasion when looking at poor Vidar. Regardless, the king listened to all of Vidar's concerns, and there weren't any dour disagreements.

When that meeting was finished, the trio left the king and went off to socialize the best they could. Most people in the palace didn't want to go out of their way to be close to Vidar, and Vidar didn't want to use his status to force anyone into a conversation. So, the trio mostly wandered around, sadly searching for a pair of willing eyes.

Eventually, they were in a tall and wide hall of gilded mirrors, painted wall panels, and nearly reflective marble flooring. The people there, as few as there were, tensed up the moment Vidar entered, and they intensified their own conversations as if to make him feel loath to interrupt them.

Princess Arya kept her head high as she sat herself on a wide bench, her skirts taking up all the spaces in the piece of furniture. She looked up at Muriel and smiled, although her eyes were tired. "We're in such a blessed state, dear Muriel. Don't ever forget to show your gratitude."

"Yes Madam," Muriel said with a nod. "I have far too many people to thank for my status."

Just then, she noticed Princess Arya's eyes touch something that might have been above Muriel's shoulder, but it was difficult to tell at that moment. "Oh, Emil," the mother said, "have you come to greet this little slice of family?"

Muriel turned to curtsy to Prince Emil. She saw Vidar give him a slight bow. Even when attending the Royal Court, Vidar kept his ordinary clothing. He had been excused from all expectations in that regard. He even had on his mask of loose fabric to save everyone the annoyance of seeing his distorted features. He was an obvious opposite to his fashionable, glamorous, and handsome older brother.

"A good morning to everyone," Prince Emil said with a very fast bow. He smiled at Muriel. It seemed to her that he didn't want to address Vidar. "I owe this couple a present now that they have a little one. What sort of present would you accept?"

Muriel nodded and gave him her best smile, tightly packing her disgust away. "Any gift you send would be appreciated, Your Highness."

With a brash grin, Prince Emil tilted his head and said, "I must admit a terrible error on my part. When I heard you were with child, I dared to imagine you must not have been loyal to my brother, but when you presented that little boy to my father, and we saw his ... unique charms ... well, I was highly relieved. I hope you can forgive me."

Muriel didn't let anyone else speak. She immediately responded, and she did so with the hopes that everyone in the hall would hear her. "Oh Sir! You are certainly forgiven!"

Prince Emil loudly clapped his hands together and said, "Poor, dear lady! So many must pity you. After all, in order to provide an heir, many cruel people would assume you sacrificed your own happiness."

"I'm not as sharp as you, Your Highness," Muriel said, ignoring Vidar's concerned hand slithering onto her arm. "I can't say I understand your meaning."

"Oh, don't force me to say it in front of all these people!" The tone of Prince Emil's voice, and the sweeping gesture he made with his well ringed hand, suggested that he wanted all those people to hear him. "It should be well implied."

She heard Princess Arya's skirts rustle as she got up from her seat. "Little Boy, I know you aren't trying to embarrass this new princess, and so your intentions are a mystery." There were thrusting needles hidden in her voice, seeking out anything dangerous.

Muriel decided to fake a startled gasp, holding her folding fan before her lips. It was the beautiful one that the king had given her. "Oh, do people assume I wasn't happy to help my husband provide an heir?" She closed her fan, slapped it onto her palm, and put on a mischievous smile. "I will admit, and publicly so, that something fascinating happened during our marriage." She turned back towards her mother-in-law and said, "I'd rather not say it in front of you, Dear Madam. It could be interpreted as distasteful."

"Perhaps one shouldn't be distasteful in the palace?" That was Vidar. His voice wafted down to her bejeweled hair as gently as cool mist.

Muriel shook her head. Then she noted how everyone else in the hall seemed to be looking at her, waiting for her next words. "Our dignified Princess Arya should cover her ears." She gave said princess a mildly pouty look. "Please? Oh please, Madam?"

Princess Arya's dark eyebrows rose, but she smirked, put her palms to her ears, and looked away.

Muriel patted Vidar's hand, and then she turned back to face Prince Emil. Very cheerfully, she said for everyone to hear, "I learned that Vidar's many hands are extremely useful. When one considers this, it makes sense that he's able to keep a wife for more than six months!"

At first, she thought that Vidar had coughed, but she soon understood that he had laughed and he was trying to hide it. She did hear, however, legitimate giggles from Princess Arya. She had seemed to hear Muriel even with covered ears.

A muscle in Prince Emil's cheek twitched, and then he nodded as his smile disappeared. He bowed and said with false cheer, "Oh, that's so wonderful to hear. I'm glad to know my brother found happiness in this world." He gave a civil goodbye then, and he left the hall with a darkening face.

Muriel happily sighed at all the whispered gossip that the other elites were sharing. Then she leaned into Vidar and tenderly said to him, "Now everyone will have no choice but to use their imagination."

Yet, even so, as they left the hall and continued wandering around, the trio heard gossip completely different from what they had expected.

The buzzing words their ears caught were frightening.

"A lovely woman, so endearing and brave."

"Indeed, and funny too! That's why it's so tragic!"

"To have such indecent sisters, it's so unthinkable!"

Muriel worried about it long after they had left the palace.

The rumors were so cruel. People were saying that her sisters had been seen selling their favors to the most common, vulgar men. Prostitution wasn't illegal, but Muriel's sisters were supposed to be of a certain social status, and they were both betrothed!! They had, according to the rumors, jilted their men and shamed not only their father but also their gentle princess of a sister.

Now their men had left them. Those women didn't have betrotheds anymore. Nobody wanted to marry them anymore.

Muriel knew the rumors had to be false. Her sisters were coddled, spoiled things, but they weren't too foolish. They knew better than to flagrantly destroy their relationships with their betrotheds. When the trio was back in the townhouse, she had to restrain herself. She had been so very tempted to destroy the nearest object. Instead, she clung to Vidar and spat out words of pure fire.

***

A brief visit to her sisters and father did nothing much to soothe Muriel's nerves. Her bleary-eyed, miserable sisters both insisted that they were innocent, and they implored her to do what she could to help. Her father strongly believed that his daughters had been wronged, but he didn't know what had happened.

As Muriel rode back to her husband's townhouse, she wondered if there were any specks of truth in the matter.

Back at the house, she immediately went to check on the baby. Little Artair was happily suckling from his wet-nurse in his little nursery. Muriel had been pleasantly surprised when she first handed the child to Teresa. She hadn't displayed anything resembling horror or even disgust. She only did her job. Muriel would have loved to nurse Artair more often, and when she was able, she tried to do so. The problem was that she was often busy, and Vidar especially didn't want her to lose too much sleep trying to feed the child in the middle of the night. So, why not give a needy woman the work and income?

"Is my innocent little Bug feeling well?" Muriel asked. He had four arms and two legs, six limbs in all. Therefore, he was her precious pet insect. Muriel had always imagined him as a tiny ladybird, a caterpillar with huge eye spots, a chubby bumblebee, or even a damselfly.

"Yes, Your Highness," Teresa said as she lightly stroked the boy's head. "His appetite is normal and he's been much calmer today."

"When he's done feeding, I'd like to hold him."

Teresa nodded.

Muriel sat down on a chair and sighed as she looked out a window. The city was loud and sizzling. She was looking forward to putting Artair in a sling tied and pinned on her person and carrying him into a garden. The fresh, green air would be wonderful for him. When he was older, he'd probably be very active, and he might be a fine climber, although probably not as able as his father.

She hoped the poor child wouldn't be too badly teased by other children ... or even by adults. Vidar could take abuse directed at himself. He was a grown adult. But Artair was so young; he wouldn't be an adult for a long time.

Some moments passed. Artair was well fed and properly burped. Then Muriel took the baby. She held him in her lap, supporting his neck and head with one hand. The heels of her shoes were hooked over a support rod between her chair's legs, so her legs were a bit higher than normal. This position made it easier to interact with him.

Awwww. His tiny, round mittens looked like cloth thimbles. All four of them were cute! They were made of light cotton because the weather was warm. Muriel lightly touched his cheek. He turned his head towards that touch and opened his mouth even though he had just had his meal. Muriel only let her finger's pad touch his tiny lips. Then she took one of his feet in her hand and stroked the arch with her thumb. What darling little toes he had!

"Don't worry, my squirming little Buggy," Muriel said as the tiny creature looked up at her with a furrowed brow, as if her very existence was the most complicated mystery in the world. "Many will think you're ugly, and that's their right, but I won't let you assume that means you're inferior to anyone. You're a person. You're even a prince, and that's the truth."

Knock, knock, knock!!

"Yes?" Muriel said.

"It's your husband."

The wet-nurse/nanny immediately got up. When Vidar entered, she curtsied. Muriel smiled up at the cloaked figure and said, "Come and see how clever your boy is. He knows to be calm when he rests in his mother's lap." Just then, little Artair's face scrunched up and his legs tensed. "Oh? What's upset you now?"

As Vidar crept over to her so he could peer down at the baby, he sweetly asked, "Is he uncomfortable?"

Artair's face turned nearly red and he started crying. He didn't smell as sweet as he once did.

Muriel's shoulders drooped as she gave an easy exhale. "Oh, he's only made a mess in his clothes. I'll have to wash him up."

The nanny approached as Muriel took the baby in her arms. "Madam, I should do that. There's no need to soil your hands."

"Oh hush," Muriel said, "that's what soap and water is for."

***

Vidar hired a private investigator to see what could be learned concerning the merciless rumors about Muriel's sisters. Meanwhile, Muriel used what little time was left in the Capital Season to visit as many older women as she could. The best people in the world to befriend when trying to keep your reputation spotless were older women. Muriel was received well. When she tried to address the rumors, the women weren't unkind but they weren't changing their minds either.

A ball was held at the Royal Palace to celebrate Prince Artair's birth. It was a colorful event with pale green ribbons and pink flowers. The food was sweet and spicy. The wine flowed out of bottles as freely as water from rivers. Muriel was able to be friendly to everyone, even Prince Emil, but she was quietly heartbroken at the fact that her sisters weren't there. The king had revoked their invitations. The only reason her father had been allowed to attend was because Muriel had sent him a pleading letter.

Just before they had to return to Matas, the private investigator gave Vidar what little information he had. A good number of men had gone around claiming they had "their turns" with the two older Devin sisters, but he couldn't exactly find these men. They might as well have vanished. That fact alone was suspicious. The investigator suggested that they might have been paid off, and once they had their money they fled somewhere to enjoy their gains.

Princess Arya tried to assure Muriel that this wasn't a death knell for her sisters. With time, the rumors would fade, and as long as the sisters behaved well they would soon be able to return to society. Actually, if Muriel tried harder to make friends, then she might be able to convince some men to give one of her sisters a chance.

Even if all of that was true, Muriel was still concerned. The fact that this happened at all was enough to make her nerves feel as though someone had chewed on them.

At the Vantrim Castle, Muriel found her comfort in her child. There was no point in fretting over the issue when the Capital Season was over. She didn't have to rush from house to house, seeking out the favor of wrinkled ladies. All she needed to focus on was Artair.

He was a little fatter now, and his personality was more complicated. He liked listening to certain voices, and he whined at others. He often focused his pretty eyes on colorful toys and he liked to swat all four hands at them. When he was held close to someone's face, even Vidar's, he'd study all the features he saw without complaint. Sometimes, Muriel even thought the baby smiled at Vidar.

Artair would always look up at his father's face with no hesitation.

Even Muriel would hesitate a little, as ashamed as she was to know that.

A bit into autumn, it was confirmed. Artair could smile. He smiled up at his nanny's face and drooled. Muriel was thrilled to see it. She took Artair from the nanny's arms and kissed one of his hands. He smiled again, and that was beautiful.

Some days after that, Artair laughed! It happened when Vidar was fluttering a piece of cloth some inches above his little face. It was the greatest, funniest, most joyful sound in the world. At least it was at that moment.

Then Artair made another smelly little mess and cried for a cleaning.

Muriel loved the tiny person so much that it hurt.

***