I Love You, My Cursed Prince

A late birthday dinner was arranged for Muriel. Beforehand, Prince Vidar asked her when her birthday was. On this year, they had already gone past both Muriel's and the princess' birthdays, and Prince Vidar was a little bit upset at her over it.

"You should have told us long, long ago, Muriel! I feel so neglectful," he had said as he ċȧrėssed her shoulder.

The dinner was wonderful and filling, but there was still room for dessert. Two sweet things had been prepared for her. Baked apple custard and an elaborate trifle. Muriel was greedy. She ate so much that she nearly vomited, but she was so happy that she didn't care.

She was also given a birthday present, a new doll. It was made to resemble a small boy who was just old enough to wear breeches. He was smiling and holding a toy hoop and stick. Such an innocent little thing! She happily placed the boy doll in her room.

This place was so comforting, so warm, and so happy. This was a wonderful place.

A place with fascinating afternoons.

Whether she was alone or with Prince Vidar in the Empty Room, Muriel felt little sėxuȧŀ thrills. Touching herself, or being unable to touch herself as she was being touched, she was always the darling of the prince's universe.

She was curious about something, however. How in the world could dear Prince Vidar be properly pleased? Certainly, he touched himself at times. He never said that he did, but Muriel knew better than to ȧssume he didn't. She thought she should do something for him, something involving her body and his together.

She decided to bring the issue up while she was sitting down in the Empty Room one day, appropriately bound and blind. She had just heard Prince Vidar lock the door and walk over to her. She smelled his soothing aroma and clean breath.

"Good afternoon, Muriel. Are you well?"

"I'm feeling wonderful, Vidar." In these moments, she'd throw away the polite titles. She would be formal when speaking about him to other people, though. "Have you been working well lately?"

She felt his heat as he shuffled closer. "I've made much more progress on my projects than I'd normally expect. You've put a good deal of energy in my body."

A body she hadn't seen, bȧrėly even felt. The tip of Muriel's tongue dabbed at a corner of her lips. "Vidar, you've been so good to me, too good to me, but I haven't been good enough to you."

"I don't understand," Vidar said as he put his curled fingers under her chin. His thumb made little swipes on that chin.

"You've always been so kind to my body, but how can I be kind to yours?"

"Don't disparage yourself. You've been very kind to my body."

"Come now, I'm not an uneducated woman. I know some of the things that men enjoy. Won't you untie my hand so I can please you?"

His fingers slid off and away.

His voice was low.

"If I set your hand free, you'll be able to reach for me. You shouldn't touch me, Muriel. You'll never want me near you again if you touch me."

Muriel was starting to wonder if this was all a complicated artifice. She couldn't sense anything bad about the man. "Men need to have their urges met, physically speaking. I'd love to help you with that."

She heard his feet clap on the floor as he stepped back. "No. No!" he said. "That can't be done!"