The Most Beautiful Eyes Ch. 24

"He told me to have two curses put on Prince Emil, and he even suggested what specific curses should be given." Her smile was so victorious.

If Muriel had been holding anything, she'd have dropped it. Her jaw had to suffice. It shamelessly lowered.

The king had finally lost all patience for his eldest son.

"I didn't do it, mind you. The only fairy's mark on me is the one from your blessing." The baroness' smile reduced itself into a gentle, nearly emotionless expression. "My parents each gave him a curse." She closed her eye and sighed. "Enough fury and self-entitlement truly can turn a person into the highest example of an idiot."

"Why ... why did you tell me all of this?"

The baroness rose and patted her curled hairstyle. "I was bursting at the seams. I needed to tell someone, and you're highly trustworthy. And aside from that, I believed you might feel a hint of justice once you learned of all this."

***

When the setting sun painted the world in many colors, Muriel visited the nearly pretentious bedchamber that her husband had claimed with refreshing mettle. The silver and gold accents on the walls seemed pink and orange under the fading light. Several lamps had been lit in advance. Muriel's heels tapped against the pale squares of herringbone patterned wood in the floor. There was a thin border of darkly contrasting planks around each square.

Vidar stood some feet away, his lips hardly visible, his head gently lowered as he looked at her. One of his hands reached out to her. His wedding band was there, smooth and glimmering, the opposite of his complexion.

They spent some time tangling with each other, and when it was all done, even the light washing, Muriel slid her chemise back onto her form and her gloves back onto her hands.

Without any blankets covering them, they kept close on the mattress. Four arms were firmly holding her, although her body was turned away. One hand was petting her hair as she leisurely admired the shadows on a sculpture of a maiden with a butterfly on her raised finger. As each minute faded, the room grew darker.

"Vidar?"

"Yes?"

"Your father ... he'd been planning on naming you as the Crown Prince for some time, hasn't he? Before your older brother was cursed, I mean to say."

The fingers on her hair weaved in the best they could, lovingly scratching in her scalp, almost as one would do for a favored dog or cat. "My father confided in me. It was the first time he'd ever done such a thing with me. I didn't know how to react."

"He confided in you?" Muriel closed her eyes. "What do you mean?"

Vidar's voice softened in her ear, as sweet and lovely as chestnut flavored whipped cream, but there was something earthy too. "He wanted to remove Emil's title and grant it to me, but I told him I didn't want the responsibility. I wasn't raised to become a king, and I don't know if I'm worthy."

"Your brother mustn't have trusted His Majesty."

She felt the edge of his nose lightly dig against her head as his fingers moved away. "Even less than Father trusted him. In a sickening light, one could say Father was pleased to see Emil cursed. It was the best reason to have the title of Crown Prince transferred."

Muriel sighed and mulled over her thoughts as an uncomfortable silence formed between them. She thought about telling him the secret the fairy baroness had given her, but wouldn't that be a betrayal? Did Vidar even need to know about that?

Maybe ... if she were to explain her reason for using gloves so often, then on that same day she'd tell the baroness' secret.

But maybe Vidar had already figured all this out but wanted to feign an unaware state.

Muriel opened her eyes and sighed at the young night.

"Vidar?"

"Hm?"

"Why ... why did you tell your brother that ... that you're bigger than him?"

The story that followed was revolting.

***

"Father was once a much less agreeable man than he is now. When I was a child, I imagine that half of my father's memories were taken away with his drinking. And there were many instances where he became unreasonably violent. Emil and I were fortunate to have been kept at a distance from him, but we knew there was a problem. We couldn't rightly say what the problem was at first, but there were signs."

"For example, poor Mother was often bruised. Sometimes she had a broken limb. Excuses were given rather casually. 'I fell off a horse. I tripped into a statue.' Ridiculous little lies given to children who didn't know better, that's all they were. I didn't know of Mother's intentions at the time, but she was already considering a divorce. Eventually, whenever I did see Father, he'd be in a worse state than Mother ever was. He'd say something ordinary, such as, 'Oh, this? I lost a sparring match.' Later, I understood that Mother had returned her husband's attentions."

"What truly led to a divorce, what pushed Mother to act, was a different matter, although Father's behavior did magnify her fury."

"Emil was never a protective older brother. He was a happy oppressor, and he often beat me down even though I was so much smaller than him; I bled often. He'd even broken my arm, my nose, and my fingers, all on three different occasions. This behavior didn't go unpunished. The nanny, the governess, and Mother would all slap him with their hands and paddles every time they witnessed his cruelty. Mother was the most diligent ... and the harshest. She was even willing to strike his face, even if it meant drawing blood. Unfortunately, Emil didn't learn those lessons very well, and he'd only seek me out for revenge."

"Father never interfered with Emil's punishments, but he did everything he could to keep Emil pleased. Every toy, every pet, every book, every bauble, everything Emil wanted he received. Sometimes, he'd even purposely hide Emil's wrongdoings."

"One night, something terrible happened between Emil and I. I can't say I even remember why he was so angry, but he dragged me off to his bedroom."

"And ... when I was beaten so severely that I could hardly move ..."

"He tossed me on his bed, ripped my breeches and drawers down ..."

"And ... I'd rather not explain. You're an educated woman. You should be able to form a hunch at least."

"I ... I wasn't even close to manhood, but that happened to me. My own brother did that to me. One of his favorite phrases to tell me was, 'I'm bigger than you!' He certainly said it to me that night."

"A nanny was looking for me, and when she found Emil's bedroom door locked, she had apparently feared the worst. She hurried to find Mother. Instead of bothering with a locksmith, Mother had the nanny help her break the door's hinges. Then they used a statue as a battering ram. Mother tore Emil off me; the nanny took me in her arms and rushed me to a safe place."

"I was kept in a separate wing of the palace, as far away from Emil as possible. We weren't allowed any contact, but we did see each other from a distance on some days. In fact, the first time I saw him after that incident in his room, he was slow and limping. His lips were swollen, and he had a black eye. I assumed that Mother had given him the worst beating of his life."

"Mother demanded a punishment from Father. She said Emil should be isolated in his room for ten years. His meals should be reduced to what prisoners receive. A public apology should be given to me before the whole Royal Court. Then the title of Crown Prince would be permanently transferred to me. Father refused to agree to that. He did everything in his power to hide the fact that this happened at all."

"This is why Mother divorced Father. Then she took me away from the palace. We lived in a small but beautiful house for a time, but I was eventually given the Vantrim Castle. Of course Mother would go with me. I heard that after the divorce, Father made a strong effort to quit drinking alcohol."

"And so, Muriel, this is the entire truth of the relationship I have with my brother. I told him I'm bigger him because I wanted to slam his face into the new reality. I'd hide no longer, because now I'm bigger than him."

***

The most agonizing fact that burned in Muriel's heart was this: There was absolutely nothing she could do to erase the pain that had haunted Vidar's mind.

But something comforting had both of them smiling.

Vidar wasn't a victim of anything anymore. He wasn't even upset over his physical state. That stupid fairy's curse mattered even less than what Emil had done. Vidar was content, and Muriel was content to know he was content.

***

A pair of smooth, nearly white, perfectly groomed hands were taken out of a set of black gloves. A wedding band was on one of the woman's fingers. She took a great, heavy coffer of lacquered wood, and with a mild groan she heaved it onto a sturdy, highly scarred table. Those coddled hands inserted a large key into a lock sealing the coffer, and then the key was turned. The lid was lifted.

Inside the container, there were these items.

Muriel's favorite gemstone, the large red jewel that Vidar had given her long ago.

Her favorite folding fan, the expensive one her father-in-law had given her.

A beautiful doll Vidar had made, resembling their young daughter, who was only five years old. Real gold was on the doll's four wrists, two shoes, single throat, and glorious headdress, even though they didn't let ever the girl wear such expensive and easily misplaced things. She wasn't responsible enough to handle them. The doll was safely wrapped in cloth and kept in its own little box.

A bracelet, kept in a little case, made of red coral beads.

Various bolts of silk and wool.

And lastly, a case protecting a tea set made of gilded porcelain.

Muriel wanted to put one more thing inside.

Princess Arya handed her a thin box. Muriel popped it open. There was a precious document folded inside. It was the deed to a large expanse of land, given by the king himself.

Muriel put the deed back into its box and put that into the coffer. Then she closed and locked the thing.

When the time came, the collection of items would be a fine dowry for the girl.

Some moments later, Muriel walked with her mother-in-law into the play room, where the little daughter was pacing back and forth, experimenting with two string figures at once. The girl's four hands were trying to create two rectangular structures with diamond shapes inside.

Her name was Riona. Aside from the arms her father gave her, she looked very much like Muriel, and she was a well loved little piglet. That was one of the pet names Vidar had given her, Piglet. He also liked to call her Puppy, Kitten, and Hoglet. She wore a pale blue gown with a crisp apron and a lace-edged cap on her simple hairstyle.

Muriel knelt down to pat Riona's cheek and ask how her little strings were behaving.

"They won't obey," Riona said with a pout.

"Be patient," Princess Arya advised. "Patience typically has bountiful rewards."

As the grandmother tried to help the tiny princess with her strings, Muriel walked to a window to see if anything interesting was out there. Artair was riding horseback with both his grandfathers. He had been put in breeches long ago. He was already a fairly independent boy, all things considered.

Muriel heard Vidar come into the room. As she turned around, Riona squealed out, "Papa!" Then the girl threw her string figures onto the floor, picked up her skirts, and ran to him.

Three arms stretched down as Vidar's thick knees bent. Then, as he straightened, he held the child in a fatherly embrace.

Muriel thought about Vidar's unpleasantly bulging eyes, so badly placed on too large a head. They seemed even more disturbing when compared to Riona's perfectly upturned, blue-gray eyes.

But Vidar's eyes were still the most beautiful eyes in the world to her.

***

The End

***

Author's Note: Thank you so much for reading my stupid little stories. I appreciate your time.