The Most Beautiful Eyes Ch. 09

Terrible news, cruel news, a hurricane ravished the area. In the Vantrim Castle, everything was fine. They were well above sea level, and the buildings and walls were ridiculously sturdy. Some communities, however, didn't fare very well, especially the ones closer to the shore.

When the storm had faded into nothing, Muriel went to Princess Arya and asked, "Is there anything we can do? Many people must have lost their homes to the floods. With such wealth at our disposal, certainly we can do something, correct?"

Princess Arya patted her cheek and said, "Of course we're going to do something. My son will fund a construction project for new homes for the displaced families. He'll also send food to them, and we won't be staying in the castle. We have to manage everything."

"Do you mean to say, you and I?" Muriel asked.

"Certainly so, Muriel," the princess said, "I'll look over the construction while you handle the distribution of food."

Muriel was slightly upset at the fact that her role had been decided before she knew there was even a role to begin with, but she put those feelings away because she wanted to help regardless.

Some days later, the two women put on plain gowns with bum rolls and narrower skirts. This was to keep their skirts less cumbersome yet still soft like a flower bud. Then they went out to the construction site, which was just outside of the most damaged town in the area. Behind their carriage, there were more carriages that had been filled with people and food.

The food had been taken from an emergency supply in the castle. It turned out that your average castle owner tended to hoard food for situations like this. The rations consisted of pickled eggs, pickled vegetables, portable soups (which were dehydrated meat broths), cheeses, fermented beans, rice, and wheat. The wheat was meant to be used on site to bake bread in makeshift ovens. The rice was dry and was also meant to be prepared on site.

Several stalls, almost like buffets, had been arranged near the construction site. A group of men and women had been gathered together there and they all answered to Muriel. They called her, "Miss Devin," and they all seemed to understand that if they misbehaved then there would be trouble. A decent amount of armed guards had been hired by Prince Vidar to look after the food.

Princess Arya left to watch over the construction site and make sure all the workers there were doing well, but she did pop in from time to time to make sure Muriel wasn't falling apart under all this new pressure.

And this was certainly a job with pressure. Muriel personally helped everyone hand out food, and people tended to want a lot of food. Sometimes she had to look at a mother with a small child and say, "No, I'm sorry, but that's all I can give you today."

There was a distressing moment after a teenage looking boy showed up with no family. Muriel wondered if he was an orphan. She gave him a wrapped package of food and advised him to go to Princess Arya at the construction site. He might be able to find work there, perhaps even a home with one of the workers. But soon after he walked away from the queue, she saw a bigger teenager grab the first by his shirt's collar behind a building. Muriel immediately called for three of the men who worked for her to investigate.

Some minutes later, the men returned with the bigger teenager's arms in their hands. He had tried to take the smaller boy's food via physical force. Muriel recognized him. She had given him a package of food only fifteen minutes beforehand. Fortunately, thanks to the men's help, that smaller boy was able to escape with his food.

Muriel ended up making quite a scene in front of everyone. She yelled at the bigger teenager for the longest time. Then she beat his backside with a thick, wooden baking peel.

This program went on for quite a few days. Muriel was often sad because she didn't get to spend as much time with Prince Vidar as normal. Sometimes it would be quite dark by the time she'd return to the castle. Still, she told herself she had no right to complain. She was a person of certain privileges. She had all the food in the world and a safe place to live. She also had some flashy luxuries.

These unfortunate people needed help, and she was more than willing to give up her time for as long as required.

One day, a large group of people with their own construction supplies and food arrived at the site, along with some soldiers and the Crown Prince himself. Muriel was shocked to see the nearly bombastic man. He marched on over to the food stalls with soldiers behind him, a conceited smirk on his face. Prince Emil gave Muriel a little bow, and he took an envelope from his bright coat's pocket. The king's wax seal was on it. He opened the envelope and read the message inside.

"By the order of His Majesty, these workers have been sent to assist the neediest in Matas. They will not leave until the new houses have been completely built and the poorest can move into them."

Muriel tried to keep her eyes down as she gave the prince a curtsy and said, "I'm pleased to see that His Highness is well, and I'm honored to know that His Majesty has kindly sent men to help us." Her fingers were stiff, however, and her belly clenched.

She heard Princess Arya's skirts flutter and her voice ring out, "Emil! What are you doing here, Boy?!" Muriel looked up and saw the princess running over to the scene.

Prince Emil bowed to his mother and said, "I'm performing a little task at my father's request."

Princess Arya snatched the document from her son's hand and rapidly scanned the words with her impatient eyes. "Oh," she said very coldly, "that's very thoughtful of him, I suppose, and with more workers the construction will move along much more quickly." She handed the paper back to her son. "But there's no need for you to remain here for more than a day. We're perfectly capable of handling things here."

"I'd never insult my dear mother by implying she isn't capable," Prince Emil said with words that could have fit well with the tones of light harp music, "but Father has demanded that I stay here and oversee the work. If anything turns sour, then I'll be harshly blamed."

Princess Arya stepped right beside Muriel and took her arm. "Who am I to order a king about, then? I'll leave you to all this so I can return to the comforts of home. Come, Muriel."

Muriel didn't have a choice but to go with her mistress, but if she had been given the choice she would've still gone with her. There was the morbid temptation to look back at the prince, similar to the brief feeling of wanting to jump when one stands close to a ridiculously high spot. Muriel's head twitched as she resisted the feeling. There was danger in that man. She could sense it. The fact that his own mother seemed to dislike him was proof enough for her.

***

"Oh, Muriel. We haven't been close for a long time. It felt as long as a year. I'm so pleased to have you again." Prince Vidar's voice trickled down her body like drops of cool rainfall after a heat wave.

Sightless, tied down, comfortably seated, Muriel was in a happy spot again. "I can't be dishonest here. I truly missed our time together."

She heard his feet shuffle and felt his body heat move to her right.

A large, clean feeling hand, it slid against the front of her throat and then it lightly curled on her left side, the fingers tapping her skin in a mellow way. If there were any hints of evil there, Muriel would have thought she was about to be strangled. Instead, there were blazing lights signaling tenderness in her mind.

She cooed to him, "How can a man with such a lovely touch ever think of himself as ugly?"

"Muriel, please ... please don't speak of that painful thing. Let me ... let me have you the best way I can."

A kiss on her cheek. Then her jaw. Muriel made a gasping, almost dancing noise as she enjoyed the sensations. "Hmmm ... I'd let you have me every way you can. I swear." Her heart was already ramming about at the thought of something more intimate happening. "Even if ... even if it seems indecent ... I won't mind." Her body felt light and fresh as she said that. Her blood rushed all around. She couldn't see her flesh, but she felt her own heat.

Lightly wheezing laughter, soft and fun. "You're trying to have a lark. I don't mind."

Muriel shook her head, feeling how her skin rubbed against the man's hand. "You doubt me? Oh Sir! You've proven to me how enchanting your touch is. Why wouldn't I ask for more?"

His breath tickled her ear. "Don't ask for what you don't deserve." He sounded sad.

"Don't deserve?"

"Touching you is the most confusing thing. I want to see and feel you, but seeing my horrible flesh contact yours is a shameful thing."

Muriel's left hand jerked under the bonds. She wanted to reach up and touch the hand on her neck, but she couldn't. She had always been denied the ability to reach out and touch Prince Vidar. He was apparently too afraid for her to have any telling clue about his form, other than the fact that he had a mouth, eyes, and hands.

"You've coddled me, Sir, truly, but what I desire the most right now is to touch you. Yet I can't. To compensate for this, won't you please touch me as much as you can? Anywhere you can?"

That certainly wasn't proper, but nothing about this relationship was proper anyway. As long as nobody was harmed, Muriel was even willing to let her virginity be taken away ... well ... she wasn't sure how that could even be done while she was tied to a chair.

"I ..." Hissing, mist-like, thick in her ear, his voice was deep and she wanted to jump into it. Then, contact, right on her ear's helix, lips that were firm but also as lovely as petals.

Muriel's backside jumped a bit in the chair. Her feet and legs wiggled in the coiled ropes. She let out a short yip.

Oh.

That thing, that thing she had tasted before, that slippery thing, it was peeking out through his lips and touching her ear. Muriel loved it.

"Yes! Please! Pleeeeease!"

A second hand, its palm was on her collar, slipping under her kerchief, then lower, deeper. Then her nipple tightened under Prince Vidar's fingertips. Her wild breath only amplified the sensation.

"Ah ... hhhhaaaa!!" There was sand in her voice.

Her ear was left alone. It chilled in the air as she was kissed on her mouth. This was wonderful, perfect, even dreamy.

They were licking into each other's mouths, moving past their sets of teeth. He certainly had ... a lot of teeth?

Her odd thought evaporated into the lustful ether as both of them groaned. He was pressing deeper in her clothes, holding a good portion of her breast, searing her, adoring her, and Muriel wanted more and more.

Wait. He was in front of her now, wasn't he? When did he do that?

That was another silly little thought that quickly popped up and died.

She was so blissfully distracted.

Her breast was released. The hand that was there had scraped itself away.

Swishing and crinkling fabric.

Rising ... from her ankles.

Would he dare?!

Muriel knew she wouldn't be angry if he did.

She gave him a very approving purr of a sound, right onto his tongue.

The air was sinking into her thighs. Her skirts had been successfully tugged up. The prince was daring. He was certainly daring! Muriel approved. She thought that a man shouldn't be meek all the time. He should have some aggression!

Damn ... he smelled so wonderful! Musky, clean, spicy and fresh, with that lingering suggestion of the nicest woods. What did she smell like? Did he think she smelled nice?

The other hand, the one that had been on her throat, it moved to the back of her head. She adored how his fingers pressed and even weaved into her hair.

There!

Muriel's fingers squeezed together. Her head tilted back while the prince carefully gripped her hair. Their mouths separated.

He had taken the risk. Her pubic hair was rustling under his hot palm. He had slid his middle finger right into her womanhood, where juices were welling up, and there were even more. It was as if he was pulling the thick liquid out, and it hit her basic instincts. Without any words, it spoke to her blood, even sang.

"Yes! Please!" There was no formality. Muriel's brain didn't have room for it.

"Am I ...?" A combination of victory and amazement was in his soft words. "Am I pleasing you?"

"It's tremendous!!"

"Oh ... oh, Muriel!!"

A kiss on her mouth again, another reaching kiss.

His finger tapped and wiped against something inside, some odd patch she didn't know about until then. It made her hidden walls pulse and constrict around his digit, and she loved it. In her shoes, her toes cramped, but she hardly noticed.

And then ...

She couldn't breathe ... exactly.

Coughing.

But still kissing.

Her senses were stabbed with a pleasure that she could never hope to describe. If Prince Vidar hadn't had his mouth tangled in hers, she would have caterwauled like a cat.

Panting, she was panting. Her body was loose. She couldn't do much. The prince removed his mouth. She felt saliva all over her lips. She imagined he had the same problem.

Both of his hands left her body. But then one seemed to return because her skirts were put back into their appropriate shapes. Then she felt something different from the typical skin she had been used to. She felt a cloth against her cheek. "I'm going to wipe your lips," he said.

"Oh." She couldn't say much else. She let him pat and swipe at her mouth. He did a fine job.

"Are you alright?"

Muriel actually yawned. It was normally rude to yawn without covering one's mouth, but her hands were tied down. "Hmm. I ... I think I could take a nap."

"Oh! Then ... I suppose I did well?"

Muriel nodded. "Yes."

"Ah ... ahaha ... I'm smiling but I can hardly believe what's happened."

Muriel shrugged. "Would you like to end this now?"

"I probably should do that. We should ... we should ... that was enough. I'm going to ring for the doctor."

Well, that was sudden, maybe even cold, but Muriel wasn't upset. "Then goodbye, Your Highness."

"Yes. Goodbye, Muriel."

***

Muriel looked at the mysterious mark on her toe later that night. She had forgotten all about it for the longest time. Since nothing was wrong or off about her, she was starting to think that it wasn't a fairy's mark at all. Perhaps that blue sheen on the dot was a trick of the light or something she imagined. Muriel tried scrubbing the dot a few times, but there was no success.

Whatever it was, it wasn't going away.

And her poor, delicate little toe was feeling raw from all washing.

On the following morning, there was a comfortable breakfast. Waffles, fried eggs with mushrooms and herbs, and sausage. Then there was light sewing as the most cheerful piano music was being played from far off. Prince Vidar seemed very happy. The music was still quite peculiar, though. Muriel couldn't understand it well.

The music went on even when lunch was served. Song after song. Playful, hopeful notes.

After lunch, Muriel secretly received a locked up note from Doctor Bergson's hands. Princess Arya seemed determined to pretend that the thing didn't exist. She idly walked into a hallway and looked up at a tapestry while Muriel went to a window and read the note.

"I'd love to watch you in my quarters soon, if you wouldn't mind."

Muriel was happy to comply.

She went to her bedchamber, picked up a sewing kit, and changed into an elaborate ball gown with spring colors. She even put her long necklace of false pearls on. That string of beads was rolled and tossed in her fingers as she walked beside Doctor Bergson in Prince Vidar's section of the castle.

When Muriel was safely locked inside the Empty Room, she put her sewing kit beside a covered food tray. Then she sat down on the white couch, making sure her skirts looked attractive. A bottle of wine and an empty glass were there. She poured some for herself and took a long sip. She thought she might need to be a bit tipsy for the rest of the scene she had vaguely planned out.

Another glass.

And another.

She ignored the food for now.

She stood up ...

And unpinned her pretty gown as slowly as she could. First the stomacher. Then the robe. She untied the underskirt and let it slither and flap down. The panniers had to go too. She untied them and practically tossed them onto the hard floor. They collapsed a bit, but that was normal.

In her chemise, stockings, shoes, and corset, Muriel trembled, but she reminded herself that the person watching her was sweet and kind. There was no risk here.

But she poured another glass of wine and forced into her stomach.

Muriel had to sit back down.

She untied the laces of her stays. Then she pulled the stays away and put them with the panniers. Swaying a little, Muriel bent down to kick her shoes away.

Stockings and chemise, and with a long necklace, that's all she had on her body. It wasn't unbearably frigid, but she was still happy to be near a fire. Muriel sighed and gave a light hiccup as she decided the chemise needed to go to.

She pulled it over her head.

The pale hair between her thighs was likely visible.

Prince Vidar had touched that place once, but as far as Muriel knew he hadn't seen it before.

The chemise was rolled up and put with the pieces of her gown. She pulled her fabric clad legs up under herself and reached for the lid over the food tray. Her necklace dangled down.

The snack was a few halves of pale yellow cheese that still had their red wax shells. Muriel took a hunk and leaned back in the couch. Her free hand played around with her necklace as she lazily chewed on her food.

Basically nude and lazing about, her nipples hard, Muriel imagined she was a fine example of indulgence and ... well ... beauty too. That wasn't a vain thought, was it? After all, the prince did think she was beautiful.

When all of the cheese had been eaten, Muriel found that she didn't want to leave quite yet. She lingered, warm and excited, wondering just how the prince was behaving behind the walls. Was he touching ... certain parts of himself? Was he thinking of something even more carnal?

These ideas aroused Muriel's passions to a point where she had to, absolutely had to do something for herself.

She took a normal sitting position, her feet lightly touching a rug on the floor. Then the position wasn't so normal. Her legs spread apart.

Tentative at first, her hand stayed between her breasts, under her necklace. Then it glided down to her abdomen. Her other hand rolled her necklace's beads around.

Click, click, clicking of fake pearls.

Down, below her navel.

Feeling the wiry hair.

Her clitoris pulsed. Muriel had to touch it.

"Ah!!"

Her eyes closed.

Down, up, she petted herself, loving the tugging in her veins. Her toes bent against the rug.

"Ha ... ah!!"

She dipped a finger inside, right where she was slick and tight. She felt her muscles dance. She found that patch of flesh that made her insides jerk and weep, and she was soon doing the same.

He could see her. He could see how pink and moist her opening was, how her pubic hair sparkled, how her digits furiously worked to take her to what seemed to be the most satisfying thing in the world.

"Oh!! Ohhhhhhh!!"

Snap!

The beads rolled down her skin and onto the couch's seat. Some bounced on the floor. The necklace's string floated away. Muriel couldn't say where.

She was trapped by a feeling similar to terror but far too delicious to be negative.

It stopped. Her body slumped down. She had to catch herself and push her body back up.