The Most Beautiful Eyes Ch. 24

What was given to the public was half a lie. As far as everyone knew, the spell the young baroness placed on Muriel was intended to be a blessing, but it turned out to be a complete failure, a piece of wet wood that couldn't be burned. So, people assumed that nothing had actually changed Muriel's body or mind at all, aside from the mark. In all fairness, the baroness really did consider the spell to be a failure.

When Vidar privately asked Muriel about it, there was a moment where she was very grateful to her mother-in-law for respecting her privacy. She didn't want everybody to start thinking of ways to use her blessing for their own means. Muriel only told her husband what the general public was allowed to know. It was a failure. The baroness had good intentions but she didn't have enough skill to complete the spell.

Muriel made a point of wearing gloves more often, even when it wasn't convenient or even typically acceptable to do so. Whenever someone mentioned the oddness, Muriel would only shrug and say she didn't understand the issue.

Vidar was blissfully unaware, or that was what Muriel hoped was the truth. When he began to notice Muriel's desire for gloves nearly every few minutes, he only gave her a packet of money to purchase even more gloves. Artair noticed the difference almost immediately. He liked to tug on her gloves' fingers as if he wanted them gone. He also tended to make pouty faces when Muriel refused to give in to him.

Muriel began a peculiar relationship with Baroness Habrena. She wouldn't call her a friend. They simply weren't close. However, Muriel made certain that whenever she could invite the baroness somewhere, she did so. The two women were seen together in public quite often. It only reinforced the idea of the blessing between them being a harmless failure. After all, if something was wrong, why would the Princess Consort be so chummy with that fairy?

Halfway into the Capital Season, Muriel was happily putting the most darling little baby dresses on Artair because he could walk with a steady gait, and it was much safer to let him follow her around in public than before. Unlike his father, Artair's extra arms didn't make fashionable clothing too difficult for him to wear. All one needed to do was put in two extra sleeves in his clothing, instead of who knows how many hypothetical sleeves Vidar might need if he tried to be fashionable. Muriel's favorite little outfit for Artair to wear around the city was a cream colored dress with a white apron and a wide-brimmed straw hat, accented with a black ribbon around the crown.

Even if Artair wasn't a strange little thing with four arms, Muriel imagined he'd still be something of a curiosity for any passers-by. He had the most angelic, cutest little face with round pink cheeks. His blue-gray eyes had long pale lashes. His smile brought an infectious joy to most. He also had quite a few words in his vocabulary, and his words were very charming. Many adults loved to ask him questions just to see how he'd answer.

Muriel was quite proud of the boy.

King Thorvaldo called Vidar to the Royal Palace again, although he didn't say why. It would've been rude for Vidar to go without taking his wife and mother along. That meant they had to cancel some of their plans and ride on to that palace.

Vidar had to leave the women while he went off alone to have his meeting with his father. Princess Arya sighed, put a dignified hand on Muriel's wrist, and led the young Princess Consort to her room so they could safely have a private time together. They sat near a window and worked on some embroidery while they patiently waited for Vidar to return.

Her face cool yet solemn, Muriel slid her needle through her fabric and asked, "Do you suppose His Majesty has a reward in store for Vidar? He's been such a loyal and well-behaved son, a fine member of the royal family."

"It's possible," Princess Arya said as she lead a pink thread through her project, "that Emil has finally ruined himself, or has at least begun to do so."

"Are you referring to that incident I swore to never mention to the public?"

Princess Arya nodded. A lock of her freshly dyed black hair bounced against her shoulder. Her expression didn't have any joy in it. In fact, there was a slight twitch in one of her eyelids. As she moved her needle up, she nearly scratched her face.

"Madam?" Muriel horizontally put her needle down on her project, pressing her index and middle fingers against its center. "Is there something wrong?"

Feeding her needle and thread through her fabric again, Princess Arya said, "Oh no, Child. Don't fret."

Muriel shrugged and pinched her needle back into her fingers.

A bit more than an hour later, Vidar knocked on the door and asked to be let in. The women put their projects away and went to that door to do what Vidar had asked.

His back was more curved than normal and his long, masked head was pointing down.

Slipping on a pair of dainty gloves, Muriel asked him, "Was your visit pleasant?"

Princess Arya closed and locked the door. "Your posture leads me to believe it was." The sarcasm was obvious.

Vidar's thick form dragged on to a chair, and he sat down. More than ever before, he honestly looked as if he was trying to comfort himself with a self-applied hug. It didn't seem to work. "It was an ordinary visit. I can't complain." His voice was stifled.

Muriel glided over to him and put one of her hands on Vidar's top set of shoulders. "We shouldn't pester you regardless. This isn't the sort of place for it."

Vidar shrugged. Then his head tilted towards her hand. A rumbling breath hissed out, blowing air against his mask for a second or more.

***

The spot under the cherry blossom tree was one of the rare places in or just outside the Royal Palace where one could rest their feet and relax. Muriel and company sat down on the benches and sipped at cups of cool water. Baron Marzel and his fairy wife approached. Muriel and company received them well. They were a colorful group full of friendly conversation.

Yet, only a few minutes after that, the friendly air was blemished by hostility. Muriel saw that source angrily limping towards them, and they all patiently waited. The brick pathway had some grooves filled with cement; the terrain wasn't perfectly smooth. So, the man had some mild difficulty. He was completely undignified.

Crown Prince Emil, purple face, creaking wooden leg, tapping cane, he was so ungainly. Even when he was standing before the group, his shoulders were uneven as his fist clamped down on his cane's handle. A few more people were nearby, watching the turn of events as they normally would, whispering to each other.

Vidar stood up and gave a light bow, but when his voice seeped out through his cloth mask, it was fearless, even a bit audacious. "What's this? What fly landed in your stew, Emil?"

Ramming his cane into the pathway in a bitter tune, Prince Emil blurted out, "What did Father discuss with you?!"

Vidar's head tilted one way, then the other. Muriel heard many, many popping noises from under his cloak. He had cracked his fingers as if he was preparing them for something. "I don't know why you'd ask such a pointless question. Have you already asked Father and found the answer lacking?"

Prince Emil's cheek jerked. His fingers drummed and scratched at his cane's handle. Muriel wouldn't have been too surprised if he managed to pop one of the jewels out of its setting. He seemed to want to lash out, but he knew he couldn't do much against Vidar.

Something rose in Muriel's heart. It was mischievous at the least and evil at the worst. She couldn't have explained the feeling even if she wanted to.

Elegantly rising from her seat, Muriel slid her gloves away and put them inside a pocket. Then she said, "Oh Vidar, it's so upsetting to see your honorable brother in a disagreeable mood." She chose a spot oddly close to Prince Emil and halted, openly smiling at his angry face. "Your Highness, won't you please calm yourself? Sit with us and have some water. Your body will react well to relaxation."

She put her palm on top of the hand that was on Prince Emil's cane, making a warm and welcoming gesture.

Prince Emil's teeth were revealed as his lips painfully curled away. He wasn't smiling.

"Too much stress can weaken even the strongest of men," Muriel continued, gripping her brother-in-law's hand and keeping her voice motherly. "Please nurse your body well. I'd hate to see you lose any more weight."

And Emil did exactly what Muriel hoped he'd do.

Seemingly without any thought, Prince Emil's free hand shot out and constricted right around her throat.

Of course, everyone gasped or screamed. Some men charged forward as if to try to stop the attack.

Muriel's hand hurried away from her brother-in-law, but she wasn't frightened.

Those other men stopped because Vidar was closer and faster. He tore Prince Emil's hand away from Muriel. He tugged the cane out of his grasp. Then he basically stabbed Prince Emil's temple with the cane's blunt end.

With a piercing cry, the older brother fell down to the ground. His wooden leg stuck out very awkwardly.

Some guards rushed over to the scene, but they didn't do anything to Vidar. They only helped Prince Emil to stand. One of them took the cane from Vidar and returned it to the Crown Prince. Then they escorted that older prince away, right into the maze.

The elites were likely already gossiping about how surprisingly violent the Crown Prince was. Perhaps they'd even start questioning what exactly had happened after Muriel had been falsely arrested.

Muriel looked at Princess Arya's knowing eyes and smiled.

***

Nearly two weeks went on in satisfying peace. Then, a letter was sent to Vidar, the most urgent, most shocking, most puzzling letter of all.

One morning, some servants found Crown Prince Emil unable to get out of bed. As for the reason why ... well ...

The rest of his limbs were gone, completely erased from reality. Essentially, he was a quadruple amputee.

The worst part? Well, when he was asked what happened, all the sounds coming from his mouth were unintelligible gibberish. Despite the fact that his mouth, throat, and even his lungs seemed completely fine, he couldn't speak a known language.

The slackened, bewildered expression on Vidar's face, despite its disproportionate variety of ugliness, was similar to his mother's and wife's own reactions.

Ever the loyal family members, the trio hurried to the Royal Palace. Funny thing, for once, Vidar insisted on them packing a few day's worth of clothing. He actually said, "I might sleep in the palace." That statement had shocked Muriel even more than the news of Prince Emil's condition.

They were almost immediately taken to Prince Emil's bedchamber. It was nearly as glorious as the king's. He was sleeping, his chest slowly moving out and in. A maid was standing by, keeping watch. Of course, the prince would be confined to his bed for the majority of his life's remainder.

Cruelly, Muriel thought he looked like a bean with a head. She knew better than to say so.

It would have been prudent to say something, anything even remotely comforting, even though the prince was asleep. Yet nobody said anything ... at least not at first. They all quietly stood there, looking at the sleeping prince.

Until suddenly, Princess Arya fell to her knees, folded her arms onto the bed, and practically exploded into a state of weeping and blubbering. Her face hid into her sleeves. Her back curled and shook. It was rather alarming. Muriel put a hand on her shoulder and tried to comfort her, but there was no solution to the problem. The princess' agony was stubborn and bold.

"It's my doing!" the princess was wailing into her arms. Her rouge was smearing against her clothing. Her eyes were shiny and overflowing with tears. "I've failed my children! This fate's worse than death! I'd rather have his head taken than everything else!!"

Prince Emil's head and shoulders moved a bit against the bed's mattress, and his eyes fluttered open.

They looked so dead, so uncaring of anything. He didn't even try to look at anyone.

He didn't even speak.

Vidar stepped around Muriel so he could touch his mother's back and cheek. His eyes were frosty. His large brow was smooth. "Mother, come. Don't bathe in this woe. Come away." Muriel followed as Vidar led the amazingly emotional princess to the room's exit door.

"I've failed you, Vidar!" the poor woman kept moaning. "You and Emil! None of this should've happened!! I should've raised him better!! I shouldn't have divorced your father!! I should've have stayed and forced Emil to be a better child!!"

Vidar deposited his mother on a decorative couch in the hallway. But then ... he went right back into the room. Muriel was understandably curious. She stood at the doorway and watched with a furrowed brow. She was certain this didn't count as eavesdropping.

Vidar nodded to the maid and said, "I'm going to do something that could be seen as frightening, but I swear by my life that I won't harm anyone."

The maid nodded and stepped back. "Yes, Your Highness. I won't hinder you."

Slowly, his arms creaking and stretching out of his clothing, Vidar loomed over his brother, who could only helplessly observe. Vidar was like a structure of flesh, his hands pressing into the mattress.

Muriel was reminded of a time when Vidar made a similar position over her. She had all of her limbs, of course, and there hadn't been anything threatening in Vidar's intentions. But she still recalled the abnormal capabilities implied by Vidar's mere appearance in that moment.

And Prince Emil didn't have a single limb.

Coldly, painfully, like ice pellets on a clay roof, Vidar said down to his brother, "I'm so much bigger than you now."

Then he straightened his back and put his arms back under his cloak. Muriel stepped away from the doorway and quickly went to stand near the now gasping and shivering Princess Arya.

Vidar's head was high. Muriel gave him an encouraging smile even though she didn't feel very encouraging. She was highly nervous about something.

Prince Emil wouldn't be able to adequately rule the country. He couldn't even communicate. In a sad way, he was doomed to be the family's pet, cared for but unable to contribute much.

King Thorvaldo would have to claim another as his successor.

And the next of kin was ...

And ...

That meant Muriel's fate was ...

She was lightly biting the inside of her lower lip as she watched Vidar pull his mother up. That princess turned much calmer, leaning into him and taking huge breaths. Her face was a slippery disarray, red and pink colors mixed with tears on her cocoa colored flesh. Vidar took a handkerchief from one of his hidden pockets and tried to clean her face, but there was only so much he could do.

As the trio walked down the hallway, Muriel asked aloud, "Has anyone given a reason for His Highness' new ... physical state?"

"We'll be given the reason soon," Vidar said, "but we can make a logical assumption, can't we?"

Muriel nodded.

Vidar was right in the end. They were told the reason very soon.

Prince Emil had been cursed.

In fact, there were two tiny fairy marks on the inside of one of his cheeks.

He had been cursed twice.

***

There was a ceremony held at the Royal Palace close to the end of the Capital Season. It was even more grand than Vidar and Muriel's wedding. Golden ribbons, scarlet flowers, bagpipes and flutes with cellos and drums. Guests wearing the best of the best clothing possible, blinding each other with their jewelry, metallic braids, and shimmering embroidery.

Vidar and Muriel entered the throne room with as much grace as possible. Vidar was still willfully plain with his choice of homemade clothing, but his wife was in a daring gown of white and gold, with jewels so large that they nearly hurt to wear. Most of them had been given to her by the king himself. They were very old, very precious gems.

Close to the throne, the couple halted before King Thorvaldo. The king walked down and personally put heavy crowns on each of their heads. Each crown came with a brief but serious lecture.

Crown Prince Vidar.

Crown Princess Consort Muriel.

These titles were heavier than Muriel's jewelry.

***

Approximately a week into autumn, and nobody knew who had cursed Prince Emil, or so it seemed.

The Vantrim Castle had been put under the watchful eyes of a regent manager since Vidar could no longer live there. The king had planned to give that estate to some other worthy person one day, if anyone good enough ever showed up.

The couple had been given an amazing apartment in the palace. It had several luxurious bedrooms, a private kitchen, a library, three offices, a music room, a reception room, and many other fantastic places. Artair didn't like it at first. Sometimes he even threw a tantrum over it.

Childish tantrums aside, Artair was growing very well. He knew so many words. He made creative scribbles on paper with his favorite crayons. He could run very smoothly, especially when he was trying to avoid a scrubbing at a wash basin. He easily took beverages in cups, and his patchy fingers were graceful with spoons. He was also quite affectionate to his loved ones.

One day, as Muriel was sitting at a piano with Artair in her lap, letting him playfully bat the keys, a servant told her that Baroness Habrena had arrived. Muriel waved the servant away, saying, "Lead her in now."

Some minutes later, the fairy baroness entered and curtsied. Her verbal greeting was drowned out by Artair's experimental music. Muriel set him down onto the floor and told him, "I need to entertain my guest. Won't you go cheer up your grandmother?"

Teresa swooped in then, taking Artair's hand and leading him out of the music room.

Nodding towards Baroness Habrena, Muriel asked, "Are you well?"

Smiling with crimson lips, the baroness said, "I'm very well, thank you."

They went to the reception room to have a casual chat, and it went along very normally, until the baroness leaned in and whispered, "Your Highness, would you fancy a private conversation?" Something arrogant was in her eye, but Muriel didn't sense any evil there.

Muriel agreed and had the fairy follow her off to a balcony that had a marvelous view of the cherry blossom tree in the hedge maze. Then they sat down on benches facing each other.

The story the baroness gave in hushed tones was quite interesting.

"Not very long after your infamous little tussle with Prince Emil, I was contacted by that man." The baroness held her fingertips so close to her red smile that they almost touched. "He dared to threaten my life, and even my parents' lives, not that I truly believed he knew where to find them."

Muriel put a gloved palm close to her bosom and exhaled. "I pity you, My Lady. He was once a frightening individual."

Baroness Habrena shrugged. "That prince demanded that I put a curse on you, Your Highness. He seemed to hate you so unconditionally. How irrational." She laced her fingers in her lap. "I pondered his instructions for a time, but the king himself soon summoned me. Can you believe such a peculiar thing?"

Her eyelids constricting, cheeks tightening, Muriel asked, "What in the world did His Majesty want?"

"Something unbelievable, that's what." The baroness wiggled her nose as her eye lit up. "He admitted he's been monitoring Prince Emil for a while, and he knew I'd met him. He expressed concern and told me if I'd been threatened or harmed then I should tell him. And so I did. I even told him how the prince wanted you cursed. And what do you suppose the king said next?"

Muriel couldn't invent a guess. She shook her groomed head.