I Love You, My Cursed Prince

Muriel was allowed to see Vidar's doll workshop. There was a fine layer of wood shavings on many sections of the floor. Materials of nearly every kind were kept safe in tall bureaus. Tools that looked deadly were hanging on hooks. There was a window in this room, but a thick curtain was hanging over it. Vidar said he had to be careful when allowing daylight into the room. He needed the light, but he was afraid of anyone outside seeing him.

Well ... that wouldn't be a problem for long, or so they hoped.

There was a worrying moment where one of Vidar's discolored hands pulled some of the curtain back and let the light shine on Muriel's face. "I want to see your eyes," he had said.

That meant Muriel had to look at him.

Even though she loved him, actually looking at him often bothered her. She inhaled, looked at Vidar's sour face for a few seconds, and then she looked at a carving tool as she exhaled.

"Muriel, you have the most beautiful eyes I've ever seen."

She bȧrėly smiled. "I'll never want for compliments again, now that I'm engaged to marry you."

"I'd hate for you to want for anything." One of his unusual arms left the safety of the cloak, and he patted the top of her head. "Would you like for me to show you my music room?"

Muriel nodded as the arm returned to the cloak. "I'd love to see that."

It was a small room filled with instruments, mostly in storage. There was a piano ready for service, however. Muriel didn't have to watch Vidar play the piano in order for her to understand how he made the complex music. She only stood and listened, closing her eyes and imagining rainbows floating in a bright sky. This odd form of his had at least one advantage. He had multiple hands. He could touch so many keys at once.

When the song was finished Muriel gave honest applause. "Your music is enchanting, Vidar. I'll never be fully satisfied with any other pianist."

Even though the fact that he had so many hands was still alarming in Muriel's mind.

If he ever touched her with more than two hands at once, she knew she'd react negatively.

But he was her life. She was committed to him.

No relationship is perfect. She understood that.

"Perhaps soon," Muriel said, "you'll have the Royal Court as an audience."

"I don't ..." Muriel watched Vidar's big feet move on the floor as he went to a wall and leaned on it. His voice was diluted. "I want to see everyone in the outside world, even the dirtiest street beggar, but I'm frightened."

Muriel stepped closer to him. "Frightened? Do you imagine a mob would come after you?"

Under his cloak, there was shuffling and the general rearrangement of limbs. "I don't fear something so extreme, but the unsympathetic eyes of the public, especially the elites in the palace, I'm afraid of them. I'm not the cultured man I once was. I'm no longer a match for anyone in the Royal Court."

Muriel put one of her gloved hands on the cloak. She felt one of the limbs there. "You have your mother's wise counsel and my love. Don't doubt yourself. You're fairly ugly, but that's not important. You have the mind of a man and the knowledge of a prince." Even though his body wasn't smooth or comfortable, she leaned into him and closed her eyes. "If you'll have me as your wife, then I'll marry you, even if the king won't accept you, even if you have to run away to some distant place. I'll stay with you. I promise."

Vidar sighed and rubbed her back with one of his palms. She felt his breath swell up in his body and then rush out.