I Love You, My Cursed Prince

The distant piano music drifted along as Muriel fidgeted with a lock of her hair. She was supposed to be embroidering a basket of fruits into some tight fabric, but she couldn't focus well. Her mind had been battling with itself all morning and most of last night. She hadn't slept well.

Nothing about her seemed different, nothing at all, aside from the mark.

But something had clearly changed, otherwise the mark wouldn't be there.

So what was it? What did a fairy do to her? Who was the fairy? Why was this done?

"Muriel?"

"Hm?"

"Muriel!"

"Oh?! Your Highness?" Muriel looked up at the princess. "How may I serve you?"

Princess Arya's needle was in the air, a long string of a rich blue trailing down to her fabric. "You're quite unbalanced this morning. Would you fancy a cup of green tea?"

"That ... that would be very kind of you, Madam."

The women abandoned their frames for tea in a sitting room. The piano music stopped once the tea was ready for them. Muriel poured a cup for the princess and then she took a cup for herself. She still didn't like green tea, but she didn't mind drinking it. It was considered to be very healthy and calming.

In a strict tone, Princess Arya suddenly told Muriel, "You might have had too much sugar lately. I'll ask the cooks to reduce the amount of sugar in the desserts for the next month."

Muriel nodded but she also sighed. "Yes, Madam."

"And that includes all the opportunities you have for desserts." She didn't sound angry, but she was emphatic.

"Thank you for your concern."

A sip of tea, a nod, and then the princess said, "You aren't forbidden from all the sweet things, mind you. Only the amount of cane and beet sugars will be decreased. There will be no limit placed on fruit and honey."

Muriel inhaled her tea's sharp fragrance and tried to think of the most relaxing things in the world.

Later, when she was alone in the room in the prince's quarters with the empty bookcase, she found a pot of tea with a single cup. It wasn't green tea, though. It was something dark and floral. A plate of warm scones were also waiting on her. An experimental bite told her that they were sweetened with honey and bits of dried plums.

Muriel's belly was warmed and almost soothed as she drank the tea and looked around the bȧrė room. She had called it the "Empty Room" in her mind because aside from whatever was needed for her comfort and enjoyment there wasn't much around.

She was trying not to think about the mark.

It wasn't a noticeable mark. Muriel could easily keep that a secret, but she was heavily concerned with what spell was placed on her. What changed? She wasn't experiencing a permanent illness, or a change in her flesh's color, or anything particularly obvious.

She was quiet.

And she realized she was thinking about the mark even though she had been trying not to.

Muriel winced and tried to think of something else, but she couldn't.

Even when she was finished eating she still hadn't said anything aloud.