Again, speaking to herself, careful enough not to reveal any of her most distrustful feelings, but loose enough to let some minor honesty float in the air. All alone, wandering the halls, some free time before dinner.
Sometimes her mistress let her off so she could eat in her room if she wanted. Even during her free evenings, however, Muriel still ate with the princess, mostly because the alternative was lonely but also because she wanted to watch the princess as much as possible.
Who could say what was in the princess' mind?!
Still alone, admiring paintings and tapestries on the walls. The old family's portraits had been removed. New portraits, or rather, portraits of the princess and her family members were there. There were even some paintings of her siblings and parents, the now late king and still alive queen of Junjaia.
Muriel paused her walking and talking to look up at one painting. It was of the princess' mother from maybe five years ago, or at least that was what she remembered Princess Arya saying. That queen was so old, terribly old, not that Muriel had any problems with old people.
She said to herself, "Poor dear. She looks like she's melting, which means she might look even worse in person." She shrugged. "Well, I have no right to judge, now do I?"
"Hm hm hm hm!!"
Humming, muffled laughter?
What the ...?
Muriel whirled around as she tried to find the root of the noise, but she found nothing.
That wasn't her imagination, was it?
Muriel walked on and stopped at a portrait of two boys. These were the princes back when they were children. One was bigger than the other. The bigger boy had his breeches. The smaller boy was still in a dress. For practical reasons, the tiniest of boys often wore simple dresses instead of complex breeches.
They were adorable little boys!!
Their skin was only a bit lighter than their mother's. Their eyes were brown and sparkly. Their hair was black. They really did look like brothers. Muriel grinned up at the painting and said, "Oh, what sweet little bobbins they are!"
She moved to the next painting. It was of a young man, probably one of the brothers. She didn't know which one. The man was standing in front of a tall lattice nearly coated by vines and flowers. His hat was in his hand, black with gold details and a white feather. His coat and matching breeches were a dusty pink color with silver and gold embroidery forming dandelions and leaves. His waistcoat was a pale gray. His cheeks were sharp. His chin and jaw were strong. His hair was loose and black.
Such a handsome man!
Muriel actually blushed.
But she didn't want to say anything about it.
She mumbled to herself about how pretty dandelions are and went down the halls. Then she stopped again because she realized she was lost. She groaned and slapped her own brow. It was time to find a servant and ask for help.
***
The women were working on colorful embroidery again. This time, Muriel was finishing up a small image of flowers in a wreath. The Princess brought up the time of year. "There isn't as much snow. It won't be long before the Capital Season arrives."
Spring and summer were the times when the most stylish and normally wealthy people went to the capital to enjoy all sorts of things, especially tourist attractions and balls.
"Yes, Madam," Muriel said as her eyes stayed on her stitches. "It's a pity that His Highness can't enjoy the excitement."
"Have you been paying any sort of attention, Muriel?"
Muriel's fingers paused and she looked up at the princess' bizarrely kind visage. Her eyes were much softer than normal. Her face was much less tense than it normally was.
Lightly, almost whispering, Muriel asked, "Have I offended you?"
Princess Arya's cheeks rose as she smiled. "What a silly girl. No. I've decided to keep you, and since you'll be seen with me, you'll need to look your best. You'll have to go to the city with me to purchase all the pretty things you'll need for the Capital Season."
Well ... this was ... good?
Muriel shook her head. "I don't know if I can afford anything up to your standards."
The princess' expression didn't change. "This is a requirement for your new position. How could you imagine that I'd be inhumane enough to demand you sacrifice your allowance for it?"
Muriel looked down at her worn hands. Sometimes, they bled and stung little. "I ... I didn't expect this."
"That's not important to me, Muriel. All I care for now is making you appear suitable." Princess Arya put her fingers in a sewing basket, possibly to find a certain color of thread. "Beauty is half nature and half nurture. Nature's done all it can with you, so why don't we try nurturing you into something nice?"
***
It had been a good while since Muriel had done the more frivolous kinds of shopping. Seamstress shops for ordering new clothing. Cosmetics shops for various creams, powders, rouges, and other items for rejuvenating or painting the flesh. Fragrance shops for perfumes and colognes. Milliners' shops for hats. So many things! Princess Arya even took Muriel to a jewelry store and purchased a few pieces to wear on special occasions. They weren't foolishly expensive, but they were certainly fancy.
This was so wrong.
Muriel kept mental notes in the back of her thoughts to check everything for poisoned pins or medicinal smells before using anything.
When she was back at the castle with a new jar of hand cream, something odd was requested of her. The princess said that she should sit near a window in one of the sitting rooms. The windows there were bigger, and she claimed that the creams would be more successful if her hands could take in the winter sunlight, or what little sunlight that was left in the day.
This logic ... well ... it didn't seem to be true logic in Muriel's mind. What in the world could winter sunlight do? Honestly?
But she wasn't able to refuse without risking her livelihood.
So, Muriel sat in a sitting room, in an armchair near a large window, and rubbed cream into her hands. Beforehand, while she was still in her bedroom, she sniffed and examined the cream to the best of her admittedly limited abilities.
