The Most Beautiful Eyes Ch. 22

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The turn is taken.
3.4k words
4.81
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1

Part 22 of the 24 part series

Updated 06/09/2023
Created 10/20/2018
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Author's Note: A vaguely described non-consensual encounter will occur in this chapter. I'll try to keep it brief because I personally don't like the scene. No worries, though. Nobody's going to be killed nor permanently injured in that scene. But there will be a non-sexual scene where someone's going to be permanently injured, to say the least. But I'll keep that brief too. I'm not fond of graphically describing gore.

*****

The peace couldn't last forever.

Muriel knew the peace was dead the moment Vidar received the most frightening letter of all.

It was from King Thorvaldo.

The king was ill. He'd been feeling odd for weeks, but now he was weak in bed. His muscles ached. He was vomiting quite often. What an unfortunate man!!

Vidar knew he couldn't leave the man alone. Glen Devin and his daughters would have to be left behind while Vidar, his wife, and his mother would have to make an early appearance at the Royal Court. What if the king was truly dying?!

On the next morning, at the Royal Palace, the trio didn't immediately go to the throne room. They went up to the king's private quarters, and even into his grand bedchamber. It was an opulent place that was dripping with gold, marble, and silk. Within this luxurious room, there were grim and tense people. Maids, guards, and two doctors kept close so they could protect the nearly gray looking man bundled in his huge bed. The king hardly even opened his eyes to look at his guests. In fact, after the blurred slits peeked through his eyelids, he closed them immediately.

But he did speak, weakly, but he spoke. General things. "Thank you for coming to see me. I'm glad you came. You're such a loyal son." Those sorts of things.

Muriel pitied the man.

And soon, the king's voice grew lighter and more difficult to hear. Then he seemed to fall asleep. One of the doctors checked his breathing and his pulse. Then he said, "He needs his rest. I'm terribly sorry."

As the trio left the bedchamber, Muriel happened to look up at Vidar's cloth covered head. She couldn't see whatever expression was there, but she imagined he didn't look any prettier than normal. His nostrils were probably quivering. His uneven teeth were likely grinding into each other.

Muriel didn't know very much about Vidar's relationship with his father, but she imagined he didn't hate the man.

Well ... that's only what she imagined.

Quiet and uncertain, they walked down hallways and stairs. It wasn't a good time in their lives. If the king died, Prince Emil would take the throne, which wouldn't normally be a problem ... but ...

They had hoped the issue with Muriel's safety would've been solved by then.

The trio had been wandering around for fifteen minutes, and they had gone into the hall of mirrors, when the sudden pounding of many feet echoed around. Aside from the trio, there had only been a few servants in the hall. So when the noise came everyone was startled.

Muriel's fingers went to her throat as her breath chilled, leaving her feeling stripped and bare.

Armed soldiers, so many of them!! Their faces were cold and uncompromising. Their long guns and sheathed swords were too intimidating.

Princess Arya barked out to them, "What's the meaning of this?!"

Vidar put a hand on Muriel's shoulder. "Is this a performance?"

"Not quite."

Damn it.

Muriel's legs trembled under her skirts. Her knees touched each other.

Crown Prince Emil walked around from behind the large group of soldiers. His hands were behind his back. His grin was so wide that it almost reminded Muriel of Vidar, which was terribly confusing. One of his hands moved around to his front, and he held an envelope with a broken wax seal.

"We have an accusation against Princess Consort Muriel," he said so easily and so smoothly, as if he was relaxing on a beach and smoking a pipe.

"What sort of accusation?" Vidar growled out.

"Muriel seems to have fooled you, Dear Brother. She's a fairy, and she's already cursed someone, putting a mark on their toe. We'll have to check her mark and see if she's planning on cursing her loyal husband, since she so easily married into the royal family."

As if she wanted to rush to Prince Emil, Princess Arya tilted her torso forward, but her feet were still. Her eyes were like boiling hot chocolate splashed onto bare skin, scalding all they touched. "You're going to take her away right now?! No hearing?"

Prince Emil's eyebrow flicked up, and then he said, "I have no choice. I'm the regent now that Father's ill. I have to uphold the law and protect each citizen to the best of my abilities." His free hand also moved from behind his back, and then he snapped his fingers. "Seize her, please."

Muriel was afraid.

Terribly afraid.

Yes, she was afraid of whatever disgusting thing Prince Emil had in mind for her.

But she was also afraid for Vidar.

Vidar ... he was a strong, capable being with many hands ...

But all these soldiers could easily overpower him, even slice off his arms one by one if they put their minds to it.

Her heart felt like it had stopped. Time slowed down in her mind as she watched Vidar angrily throw his arms out and move as if he was about to attack everyone.

No.

No!

"Vidar!!" Muriel's fingernails bit at his cloak as she urged him back. The mask on his face flapped as he turned to look down at her. "If you're arrested, that will be one less ally for me outside. You won't be able to help me in a cell!!"

But Vidar still moved in front of her, his many limbs spreading out, casting a shadow onto her. It was grotesque, but her heart still bled. "You'll die in vain, Vidar!!" Muriel screamed as she rushed around him. "Don't betray me this way!!"

Submissive, afraid, but still angry, Muriel removed a bracelet of hers and put it in a pocket. Then she held her wrists out. "Arrest me if you must. I'm no fairy, and a true investigation will prove this." But, with Crown Prince Emil in charge, she doubted there would be a true investigation. He wasn't exactly a just man.

She heard Princess Arya say, "Come with me Vidar. Interfering here will only harm yourself and put your child in danger."

"Think of Artair," Muriel said. Then she said to the soldiers, "What's keeping you? Arrest me."

A soldier approached. He was holding a pair of dark manacles. Once those manacles were closed on her delicate wrists, Muriel felt their harsh weight.

She looked back at Vidar and put on what she hoped was her most beautiful smile. "Fret not, Dearest. This is only a misunderstanding. I'll be home soon."

Princess Arya pinched and clawed at Vidar's cloak. There was something highly determined in her face. "Come with me, Boy! Come with me right now! If you want her set free then you'd better come!"

"Go on, Vidar," Muriel said, hoping he'd give in. "This is in our best interests. Don't put yourself at the mercy of all these blades over this silly thing."

Only a chip of Muriel's fear melted away as she felt the loss of Vidar's presence.

***

Muriel had expected an official detective to appear and test her blood. She didn't know everything about fairies, but apparently if one kept a fairy's blood inside a wooden vessel with a wooden lid for at least ten minutes then when the lid was removed there would be a green fairy stone instead of red blood.

That didn't happen.

She was immediately taken out of the Royal Palace and into a stern carriage. The carriage took her to a brick building that had almost no windows. There were no gardens, no bright colors, nothing pleasant about the place to be seen. Inside, there was a busy, stuffy office where men in uniforms were looking over paperwork or taking other people in manacles up a set of stairs, and that's where Muriel was taken. Since her skirts were wide, and the stairs weren't very grand at all, the soldiers had to turn her sideways and help her walk up.

Muriel was put in a cell that had brick walls, a bench at one end of the room, and a wooden beam in the center. Soldiers put her back against that beam. Then they unlocked and removed her manacles. They put her wrists behind the beam and put the manacles back on. A similar pair of manacles were put around her ankles, but the chain between the cuffs was tightly kept around the beam. She could stand, but she couldn't move her feet more than an inch or so.

And, stupidly, she thought to herself, "With my skirts so close to the beam, the silhouette seems phallic."

A woman in jewels and silks, with a proud set of side hoops, and fine cosmetics on her face.

She was in this raw, hateful cell, clashing with everything.

The soldiers all left.

Muriel heard them lock the door.

But ...

Her toes squeezed together in her silk and wooden shoes. Her jaw tightened, her teeth meshing together, her gums aching from it.

Crown Prince Emil didn't leave with the soldiers.

Standard procedure was to have a detective interrogate her.

Muriel took a hard breath into her lungs and she closed her eyes. She didn't want to see his self-satisfied grin. She didn't want to see the malice in his eyes. She didn't want to see any part of him.

The floor was made of old wooden planks, and the prince's shoes clicked on that floor as he approached. Each little noise tapped against Muriel's heart and made her feel a small jerk of nausea.

And then she smelled his sugary cologne, felt his unwanted warmth. She knew he was standing before her.

"All of your problems could be solved very easily."

He sounded barely patient, as if he was trying to explain something to a tenacious child.

"Clearing your name would be simple. I'd give the newspapers a few statements about you being falsely accused. As for your family, that wouldn't be difficult at all. I'll introduce your sisters to the finest elites and promise them that all of those hateful rumors are false. Your father? Well, I'll do everything I can to help him succeed in life."

One of Prince Emil's sleek fingers went under her chin. Muriel still refused to open her eyes as her head was tilted as far as it could go against the beam, not that she could go very far. She felt some of her hair being flattened on the wood.

"All you'd need to do is learn to rely on me," he said. His breath was minty, but Muriel associated it with a blizzard.

Her eyebrows lowered as she gulped down a hostile bundle of mucus.

Her sisters would have begged her to agree, and that would be quite understandable.

But she knew her father would tell her to say nothing.

That's what Muriel did. Mentally speaking, she screwed her jaw shut and refused to give the prince an answer.

Prince Emil's voice sharpened and so did his cold breath. "Answer me!"

If he killed her there, at least Muriel would have her pride. Or that's what she thought. Maybe if he tortured her she might be willing to give in. Or maybe she'd be too stubborn to give in and survive by her anger alone. She didn't know.

A cracking slap thudded against her right cheek. It stung, but Muriel refused to open her eyes nor her mouth.

"Acknowledge me, you stupid little cockroach!!"

Nope. Muriel didn't want to. She hated him that much.

Then she heard something extremely upsetting.

Her skirts being gathered up.

And what happened next ...

Was more than distressing, more than distasteful ...

Her hands and feet struggled, but it was all futile.

Completely repugnant.

Dry, itchy, scraping, searing, and her pride nearly died. Some tears forced themselves out of her tightly closed eyelids.

He was murmuring things in her ear, things she didn't want to remember, but she knew she'd never forget them.

As if ... as if he thought she deserved this, asked for this, even begged him.

It hurt. There was the worst kind of pinching. No, pinching implied something more innocent. It was too painful for that. But Muriel only allowed perhaps a tiny noise in her throat. Otherwise she was refusing to respond to him. He didn't deserve her words.

And he slapped her again.

And again.

Eventually she was hungry, and funny enough she was more concerned about that than all of these violations on her body.

But she knew she wouldn't ask for food.

She wouldn't even ask to use a chamber pot. She'd piss and shit all over herself instead of talking to him.

But it all ended when Muriel heard the cell door's lock click and groan. Then the sound of the door slamming against the wall made her open her eyes and turn her head towards it.

Five new soldiers were there. One was holding a document with a fresh looking wax seal. "By order of His Majesty the King," the soldier said, "Crown Prince Emil and Princess Consort Muriel are to be taken to him at once!" The soldier paused as his arm lowered. Both he and the rest of the men stared at the scene. The man with the document narrowed his eyes and said, "I'd kill you right now, but I have a family so that wouldn't be wise. I'll just take you to the king."

***

Inside King Thorvaldo's bedchamber, all these people were gathered together. The king, Princess Arya, Vidar, Prince Emil, and Muriel. No servants. No doctors. Nobody else. Of course, the king was sitting up in his bed, reeking of vomit and blood but also rinsing his mouth out. After he spat into a bowl, he put that bowl on his nightstand and pointed his red eyes at Prince Emil. "You didn't expect me to be awake, did you?!"

Prince Emil was looking down at the bed's decorative skirt, but Muriel couldn't see any hint of shame nor embarrassment on his face. He seemed bored, really.

Six of Vidar's arms were holding Muriel from behind. His cheek was on the top of her head. She couldn't say what look was on her husband's face, but she imagined he was enraged was because his embrace was tight yet his body was quivering.

King Thorvaldo coughed into a handkerchief. He left behind green and red blotches that stained the cloth. "You ... I can hardly believe you ever came from me. You falsified an accusation. You didn't send a detective in to interrogate the accused one, and you went in there instead, and what did you do with the accused? One of the vilest things in the world, that's what you did!" He coughed again. "If your mother hadn't ironed her memories out and rushed to the queen, I'd have been asleep for days! You dared to poison your own father!!" His face turned nearly purple. He balled his handkerchief up and tossed it at Prince Emil's feet. It bounced off the prince's toe and rolled an inch away.

Finally, after settling his breath down and letting his face return to a normal color, King Thorvaldo looked at Muriel with a wilted expression. "The soldiers can be bribed easily, but what of you, Muriel?"

Strange thing, Muriel had been feeling quite hollow up until that point, as if all the horrors were already a distant memory and she was trying to recall the details. Her body was sore, especially her face and labia, but fortunately nothing thicker than a few fingers had been inside. The damage could have been so much worse.

But once she heard the king speak to her, implying that he wanted her to keep all this a secret, her temper returned. The only thing keeping her from pitching the unholiest of fits was Vidar's secure embrace.

The king tried to speak to her again. "If this reaches the public, it won't be any good for me. I'll punish Emil as privately as I can. I'll announce that you had been falsely accused by a jealous egoist. I'll diligently work to restore your sisters' reputations. I'll do anything you ask if you keep this matter from the prison cell a secret."

Muriel gripped one of Vidar's hands, but she hardly felt his skin. Her fury was too great.

Princess Arya stepped forward. Her fingers were like claws as her palms faced the paneled ceiling. "Your own son has poisoned you! How can you not sentence him to death?!"

"You want you own son dead?!" the king replied. His fingers cut through the air. "Such a ruthless woman!! I'm grateful we divorced!" His cheeks puffed out and then he let his breath out as he looked back to Muriel. "Tell me what you want, Muriel. If it's possible, I'll do it."

Tightening her fingers on Vidar's hand, Muriel closed her eyes for a few seconds. When they opened again, they were frigid.

"Your Majesty, I know what I want. It's quite a list of demands."

The king nodded. "Give them to me."

"I suspect that Crown Prince Emil damaged my father's business. So, we told everyone he was ill and kept him in our home. I want my father's business to be renewed."

"I'll personally fund his needs and find the best clients for him."

"My sisters need help."

The king adjusted his weight in his bed and reached back to tilt his pillow a bit. "Of course. Once they've been properly reestablished I'll play matchmaker for them."

The next words Muriel gave the king were laced with acid and hatred. "I want to choose Crown Prince Emil's secret punishment." She couldn't say what she was looking at then because her thoughts were boiling. "I want every movement of his body to remind him of this day. I don't want him to ever forget what happened." She was seeing every shade of red she knew of. She inhaled deeply, and then she practically breathed fire. "I want his leg amputated, preserved, and brought to me in a lacquered case. I'll lock it away in my husband's castle as a private trophy."

Silence.

Princess Arya spoke. "That's ... that's not a secret punishment."

"I don't know what you mean, Madam," Muriel said with more attitude than she'd normally give the woman. "If His Highness had a hunting accident and then had to have his leg removed during surgery, then nobody will wonder why he'd suddenly walk around with a prosthetic."

Vidar's arms slid away. He pried Muriel's hand off.

And he said something that almost froze Muriel's lungs, bones, and fingernails. That's how cold his voice was.

"Emil."

His large feet made unusually loud patting noises as he walked past Muriel, moving towards his older brother. Emil looked up at him with an amused set of eyes.

Vidar spoke again.

"I'm bigger than you."

Emil's expression changed. His eyes widened. His lips parted.

And Vidar was on him, a nearly web-like collection of limbs unfolding, a blur of normally impossible violence. The king tried to get up, but he ended up falling out of bed and groaning out his miserable protests. Princess Arya muffled her own scream with her palm. Muriel was a statue. The scene before her was so separated from her concept of reality that she almost thought it wasn't real.

Vidar was gentle. Vidar was kind. Vidar wouldn't hurt anyone nor anything. He held always his fragile little son with the utmost care. He bowed down to both Muriel's and his mother's desires almost as if they owned him. Vidar wasn't what Muriel was seeing there.

But now, he was?

Prince Emil actually yelled, but two of Vidar's hands sank over his face and halted the noise.

Blood ...

No. This wasn't happening. This was all a hallucination. Not Vidar. He wasn't capable of this violence, even if he was physically strong enough with plenty of willing hands. His heart was too meek.

And it all happened oddly quickly.

Vidar rolled his older brother's left leg towards Muriel. It stopped at her gown's hem. A thick trail of blood followed its movement. There was still a stocking and a shoe on the limb, although the stocking was a bit ruffled.

***

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4 Comments
redvelvetrose213redvelvetrose213almost 4 years ago

What a twist! I loved this so much. I cant stop smiling. : )

Golden_Apple_CiderGolden_Apple_Ciderover 5 years ago
UGHH AND YAAASSS!

First, the whole Emil and her thing in that cell was yucky, but the end though!!! I literally screamed when by boy Vicar FINALLY grew a pair! And Emil finally got ca7ght and dealt with! I cant believe he ripped his brothers leg off!! And that whole "I'm bigger than you" I legit got shivers! It was a glimpse of how much a bully Emil was to his baby brother!

#TeamFerret

wawferwawferover 5 years ago
Omg!!!!!!

This is fantastic!!!!! I am anxious to see how Muriel reacts, and I am desperate for Emils reaction -evil cackle-

LadyVeraDLadyVeraDover 5 years ago

Best chapter yet!

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