I Love You, My Cursed Prince

The tall entrance doors opened.

Muriel held her breath.

She cringed at all the gasps.

The Queen Consort screamed. She literally ran to a side door and frantically slammed it open, not even waiting for a servant. As she ran away, the king took some steps backwards.

Crown Prince Emil was laughing so hard that he had to crouch down and press his hand into his belly. Muriel despised that noise.

"What ... what is this?!" That was the king.

Thick, padding footsteps, moving closer and closer to the women. When he was just beside Muriel, her eyes dared to touch him for a moment.

Poor Vidar. He always wore the same thing, basically. Homemade clothing with function burying all sense of style. He bowed down once, and then he opened up some of his cloak so he could let some of his many arms stretch out.

More people, mostly women, cried out and left the room.

But Muriel's spine was straight and firm.

The king's hand rose as if he wanted to reach out, but it fell back down within two seconds. "You ... you sound exactly as Vidar should, but ... but you will be tested." He waved at the four men who had examined the fairy's corpse. "Come and see if his ankle has the mark."

Muriel politely turned her head so she didn't have to watch the men hurry over to Vidar. She heard them adjust his clothing so they could see his ankle. She ȧssumed they were poking the mark with a bone needle. Vidar didn't make a sound. Other people did.

Prince Emil was muffling his laughter with his hands while some other court members were still giving horrified outbursts.

Some short minutes later, Muriel heard Vidar's clothing being put back in order. Then one of the men said, "The mark on his ankle matches the mark on the corpse, and the needle's point is green. This is indeed a fairy's mark."

"Ah ... thank you. You're dismissed," King Thorvaldo said as he folded his hands together. As the men left, the king said to Vidar, "I have many letters and other documents with your signature on them, some from before you hid yourself away and claimed you were ill." He nodded. "The papers and pen, please?"

An attendant approached. He held a silver tray. On the tray, there were a few sheets of paper, a bowl of ink, and a quill pen. The king gestured towards these items. "Write your signature at least four times, even more if you have the patience for it."

"Yes, I will," Vidar said as he took the pen. He dipped the point in ink and wrote his name on the paper a few times.

When that was done, the attendant said he would take the papers to be examined by a graphologist that was waiting in a nearby room. While he was gone, the tension was enough to make Muriel want to faint, but she didn't. She only gave Vidar a shy glance.

Vidar was looking ahead ... but not at the king.

At one point, Prince Emil managed to ask with a faint voice, "Is this reality? Isn't this a grand lark? What is this?"

King Thorvaldo hissed out to his older son, "Hush! Hush or leave!"

Prince Emil took several breaths and calmed himself to a certain degree. Muriel imagined he was grinning, but she didn't want to look up to find out.

The previous attendant returned, although he didn't have a tray this time. He had a written document instead. He approached the king and held the document up to him. "This is a sworn statement from the graphologist."

The king took the paper. As the attendant walked away, the king read the document aloud.

It was confirmed. All the examples of Vidar's signatures matched the signatures of the past.

More whispers among the elites.

The king spoke. His hands were shaking. "I ... I have no choice but to accept this." His ċhėst swelled with his long breath. "There honestly isn't much for me to do but plan a wedding for you." He nodded, but he turned around, refusing to face his younger son. "I wish the best for you, my son."

And he ... he left the throne room. He walked through the side door that his wife had used.

Muriel heard Prince Emil erupt into more laughter.

***

The trio didn't spend the night, or any nights, at the Royal Palace. Vidar told the women he didn't want to sleep there at all. So, they rode on to the townhouse in Padulan and slept there for a night. Then they returned to the Vantrim Castle. A few days after that, newspaper after newspaper was distributed to the population spreading many rumors about Vidar's appearance, but also the basic facts. Prince Vidar wasn't ill. He was cursed, but Muriel Devin, the famous beauty, was happy to marry him.

One newspaper had an article with comments from random people in Matas. Thanks to Vidar's rapid attempts at helping the victims of the recent hurricane, his reputation didn't seem too damaged, although most pitied him. "If he really does look like a monster," one person said, "then he might be frightful, but he was still the first to help us, as he should have been, and he's never been greedy with us. And since Miss Devin's willing to marry him, that seals it for me."

Muriel was happy to read that.