I Love You, My Cursed Prince

Muriel was almost frightened when she walked to the Empty Room on the next day. What if Prince Vidar was offended why her refusal? What if he decided to just leave her there, tied up and blindfolded, never showing up? What if he yelled at her? What if he wept?

Still, Muriel kept up a brave facade as the doctor prepared her. When it was time for the prince to come, dragging the bookcase away, going to knock on the door, listening to the doctor, and locking the door, Muriel was still trying to be brave.

He was between her body and the fire. She could feel him, smell him, even hear him. His breath was smooth.

Then it wasn't smooth. It was choppier than a stormy sea.

And he was laughing.

Muriel wanted to ask him what was so funny. Instead, she waited for him to calm down and speak. It took a few minutes.

And finally, Prince Vidar said, "Muriel, Sweet Muriel, were you honestly concerned over my welfare? Did you think I couldn't be in charge of my own finances?"

"Oh, Your Highness ... I ... I never meant to imply that you weren't capable. I thought that you might have been too extreme, but only because of your kindness."

"Do you believe I'm extremely kind?"

Muriel had no idea what his smile looked like, but she was imagining it. In her mind, she thought of a wide grin with clean teeth. "You seem to be that way," she said. She wondered if her nervousness was slipping out.

"You poor, dear woman!" He laughed again. "You didn't have much to worry over! As unpleasant as I am, I'm still able to count. Nobody would have suffered if you used my credit. I would have given you coins and true banknotes if I wasn't concerned over the case being stolen."

Muriel shook her head and pointed her face to her left. "It matters not how much wealth is stored in your coffers. I'm entitled to much less than your mother, certainly. She is your flesh and blood, and I am almost nothing to you. To see her treated with less benevolence, well, how can I not be insulted? An occasional gift now and then, that's fine, but you were so blatant yesterday. It was undignified."

"Very well, then, Muriel," the prince happily breathed out. She heard him shift around to reach her face. Then she felt his lips on her forehead. He didn't exactly kiss her there. He moved his lips up and down, then left and right. She had always thought his lips felt thin but soft.

"You don't sound very accepting of my position," she said.

Muriel felt his fingertips close right on her jaw. He turned her head to its more natural forward position. "I'll let you have victory for now," Prince Vidar said.

When the snow came, it stayed for a long time, and it really was unforgiving. Some tapestries had been hung up in the Empty Room to make Muriel's little shows for the prince much warmer. During one afternoon, as Muriel chatted and sewed in the Empty Room, she got to eat an extra slice of cake that had been put aside only for her. The batter was heavy with currants, sliced almonds, and candied citrus rinds. She certainly didn't mind being given food, especially since it couldn't compare to the princess' provisions. That woman could demand an order form the kitchen whenever she wanted.

And how could Muriel refuse such delicious food anyway?!

Despite the cold, there were still things to do. Dances had to be practiced. Clothing had to be repaired. Kerchiefs were decorated. Music was played. Horses were petted (the stable boys normally cared for them, however). Books were read. Canvases were painted. And the weather was angrily watched.

By the time the snow had finally disappeared, it was very close to spring, and that meant the Capital Season was coming. Muriel had to prepare for event after event. She'd "work" like a bee with all the colors of a favored buŧŧerfly.

Prince Vidar whispered to her ear one day, as her eyes were wrapped away and her limbs were bound, "I'll yearn for you. I'll flounder in my woe as I beg the stars to guide you back to me. And yet, my sweet Muriel, I'll be highly displeased if you don't enjoy yourself in Padulan." He kissed her cheek then. "Please dance, please flirt. Drive the men mad with your beauty, and tell me about it. Those poor souls will despair at their inability to gain your consideration."

Muriel giggled at him.