The Most Beautiful Eyes Ch. 09

Muriel giggled and realized that her plan was slightly ruined. She had wanted to do some sewing after eating, but she skipped right to the masturbation.

Well ... why not sew anyway? It might be silly, but she had a feeling that the prince didn't care.

She took a scrap piece of cloth from her sewing kit. Instead of water, she used saliva. She sucked on her fingers and then she wiped them. The taste was oddly boring to her. It was like sweat, really.

A plain bit of nicer fabric was meant to be a very pretty handkerchief. She took that handkerchief and started her work on folding and sewing the edges to keep them from unravelling. Then she sang a lullaby as if she was sitting beside a tired child and absolutely not mostly nude, and as if she hadn't just done a very sexual act.

More singing ... and more ...

Then talking.

She didn't even care that her necklace was broken. It was a cheap thing, anyway.

Eventually, she was tired of sewing, and she thought she was a little chilly. She packed her handkerchief away and starting picking up the stray beads. She put those beads into her sewing kit. Maybe she could use them in a different project?

She put her feet into her shoes. Then she put on her chemise and stays. The rest of her clothing had to be added too. When she was fully dressed, Muriel gave her almost traditional curtsy and thankful statement.

***

On the next morning, two things were delivered to the castle, a package and a newspaper. The newspaper wasn't particularly strange. Newspapers had always been regularly delivered to the castle. What interested Muriel was one of the articles on the front page.

It was about the construction and food delivery in the worst parts of Matas, where Muriel had worked for a time. There were some praises given to the Crown Prince, and to His Majesty, and even Princess Arya, but most of the praises went to Prince Vidar and Muriel. The journalist had even written an account of the stealing incident, the one where Muriel had men hold onto a thief so she could beat him.

"Any man, born low or high, should feel honored to marry that woman," one witness had apparently said. Why else would the journalist quote him?

"You certainly have an enviable reputation," Princess Arya said as she precisely folded the newspaper.

"I only wanted fairness," Muriel said. "I didn't know my name would be in the press."

"Don't worry about the press, Muriel. You have more important matters, such as that package."

Muriel had completely forgotten about it. "Who's it addressed to?"

The butler was nearby, and he answered for the princess. "It's from the Crown Prince."

"Oh dear." Muriel took a few highly noticeable steps away from the box that was so innocently sitting on a table. "I'd rather not open it."

"Might as well," the princess said with a little groan. "Generally, before you refuse something, you need to know what it is."

Muriel sighed and went back to the box.

Inside, there were two new things. A folded letter with a wax seal and a bracelet of gold metal with smooth green stones ... an amazingly bright and vibrant green, almost pale but not quite.

Fairy stones.

The letter read, "A woman of your beauty has no need for a fairy stone's dermatological qualities, but you are certainly worthy of their rarity and luster. Please accept this gift along with my sincerest gratitude for your presence in Norantha."

Muriel almost wanted to vomit right into the package, coating all the stones.

Fairy stones were made with the blood of a fairy. If they were small enough to safely swallow whole, then they'd have a mild restorative effect on one's flesh that would typically last for a few days. Wrinkles would be only slightly tightened. Blemishes would be soothed and decreased in size.

Muriel had never wanted to swallow any of these gemstone pills. Not only were they amazingly expensive, but the concept of swallowing anyone's blood horrified her.

As for the larger stones, which were made of more fairy's blood, they would sometimes be used as decorative materials, especially for jewelry. They were even rarer and even more expensive.

"Oh, are those fairy stones?" Princess Arya asked. Her nose quirked and she sneered. "How vulgar. Send a polite refusal as soon as possible."

"Yes, Madam," Muriel said with a curtsy. She was already thinking of what to write.

***

Muriel was eager as she waited for Prince Vidar to walk into the spot between her and the fireplace in the Empty Room. She was grinning. If she hadn't been tied to the chair, she would have bounced in her seat like an excited child.

A large palm slowly and lightly went over her cheek. "Muriel, I don't know what to say to you." There was absolutely nothing that could be called negative in his voice, but he did sound a little breathy.

"Do you need to say anything?" Muriel said as her chest puffed out a bit.

"No ... but I feel as though I should." His fingers drummed on her face. It almost tickled. "Sometimes I wonder if you've gone mad, but I don't want to believe that."

"If I've gone mad, then it's all your doing. You've turned my life into something more beautiful than anything I had imagined, and I don't even know what you look like. This heavy impairment should have destroyed your abilities, but that's simply not true." Muriel turned her head towards the man's palm and she kissed it. "Are we lovers now?"

"I ... I suppose so."

"I've never had a lover before. It's quite thrilling. What comes next?"

The hand moved away from her face. "Hmmm ... I don't know. I haven't had a lover in ... well ... a long time."

"Ohhhh ... I imagine you were very popular!!"

Husky laughter fluttered against her face. "I don't know. I just did what I wanted to do, but I tried to be reasonable about it."

"You're not being reasonable now," Muriel said. She could hear her own childishness. It made her want to laugh too.

"Hm? Explain."

"You haven't kissed me once since you arrived. That's not reasonable at all. I should have a kiss."

"You funny little girl."

She got her kiss. She enjoyed it, bathed under it, and she hoped there would be more.

***