On some afternoons, Muriel had her blind chats with Prince Vidar. On other afternoons, Muriel would sit on that white couch and enjoy her time as the prince watched her. She always had a snack on those occasions, and she ate them with enthusiasm.
Sometimes, Muriel wore a pair of shoes that could be easily slipped on and off. Why? Because she had received a message from the prince about how he would like to see her relaxing with her shoes off. It was a much less formal experience than accompanying Princess Arya.
During one blind chat, Muriel asked the prince, "How would you describe your life before you were cursed?"
"Hmmm? I suppose I did what would be expected. I attended all the vital events, along with the most entertaining ones. I laughed and," here, his voice seemed to slowly roll down a hill and into something depressing, "and ... and I had friends ... friends and other varieties of people near me."
Muriel sighed and flexed her gloved fingers. "Forgive me, Your Highness. I shouldn't have asked such a bitter question.
"No, you're not in the wrong, Miss. You're only curious."
"You're too kind, Sir."
The following moment was quiet. Muriel waited and waited. Just when she was about to say something, however, the prince spoke, and he used a very gentle tone.
"I wish I could touch ... No ... I'm sorry. I meant that ...?"
Muriel's eyebrows lowered as she moved her head to one side. "Your Highness?"
"No. Never mind."
She wished she could have put a hand on her hips. "Unless you're planning to stab me while I'm so vulnerable, I don't see why you shouldn't be happy. Please tell me, Your Highness, of your wish."
Muriel heard the creaking of fabric and perhaps even the light popping of some joints. She thought she felt breath flutter on the top of her head.
"I ... I have ... a certain opinion." He almost sounded like he was trying to make a question. "You ... I think you're ... ah," his voice sped up in the end, "you're one of the most beautiful women in the world."
More quiet, but even though it was indeed quiet, Muriel wondered if she listened carefully enough could she hear his body strain under his own emotional weight. She wasn't angry or embarrassed. This was usually how men were. When they thought a woman was beautiful they wanted to tell her so.
"Your Highness, you might as well have told me that you like or dislike winter. This information hasn't harmed me, but it doesn't have much weight in it." That last bit was a lie. Muriel did like that he thought she was beautiful.
"I ... I'm sorry?"
"Lately, compliments towards my appearance have been as common as soil, and much easier to produce."
"Oh, I suppose you're right ... but what I mean is ... Miss ...?"
Muriel shook her head a little and said, "Oh Your Highness, I do love these conversations, but I wish you'd be swift and direct.
"I wish I could touch you!"
"Oh." Muriel's belly felt like it was curdling, but she thought she needed to pretend she wasn't affected. "I didn't know you were unable to touch me." She even faked a small chuckle. "You could slap me quite easily."
Sudden ... smooth warmth, it made Muriel gasp.
Above the ropes keeping her wrist in place, she felt a single fingertip. It seemed normal.
Muriel inhaled and swallowed her moment of astonishment. Then she smiled. "There, you've touched me."
His voice ... it was closer than normal. She thought goosebumps were forming on her throat. "Is this fine?"
"Oh no," Muriel flatly replied, "I'm being violated. How will I ever recover? When you're finished I'll have no recourse but to leap off the cliff."
She heard and almost felt the prince cough his laughter away. "You're a very tolerating sort of woman."
"And you're a very tolerating sort of man. I know I can be a burden."
The fingertip slid perhaps an inch up her arm. It was fairly pleasant. Muriel had to ignore a fluttering in her heart. "I don't know if you're humble or polite," said the prince. The fingertip rose and went off to the dark world Muriel couldn't perceive.
Something even more unexpected happened the next day.
As Prince Vidar stayed near her, discussing some innocent little topic that wasn't very important, a single hand went right over Muriel's gloved one, the right one. Then, Muriel felt something she didn't think would ever come.
Smooth and hot, like a gentle stamp, it went to her forehead.
And the prince moved back and said, "You're important to me, terribly so."
Muriel wanted to ask if he'd just kissed her, but she was afraid that he'd feel insulted. She only said, "My lord is far too kind."
"Maybe that's true. I can't say, but I know I'm happy that you're here." Muriel heard him step away. "But I should leave you now."
She nodded. "Yes, Sir. Thank you."
***
An interesting and possibly shocking request was made of Muriel. Normally, she would have been very indignant towards such a request, but she wasn't. Perhaps she felt pity. Perhaps her heart was softening. She couldn't rightly give the reason if she had been asked about it.
In a secret little note locked way for only her eyes, Prince Vidar asked if she would be kind enough to sit in the bare room with bare feet exposed.
So, Muriel undressed and removed her stays. Stays were fairly tight and it was difficult to put on stockings and shoes while wearing them. She untied her stockings and peeled them away. Then she put her feet in simple shoes, put her stays back on, and donned a vivid gown. Muriel hoped that the doctor wouldn't notice.
Inside the room, she sat down on the couch and found a covered dish. On the low table before her there was the typical wine and reading materials. Muriel smiled and lifted the lid.
Oh my!!
A cake with a circumference similar to Muriel's palm. Two disks of pumpkin cake layered with crushed pralines and whipped cream. Lots of whipped cream!
She opened the bottle of wine. It looked oddly ... brown and thick ... and it smelled like ... chocolate? Was this wine mixed with chocolate? Chocolate wine? Goodness!
Muriel slid off her shoes and stretched her bare toes out towards the lit fireplace. A rug had been laid down so her skin wouldn't be chilled by the stone floor. She poured a glass of the chocolate wine and picked up a book to read.
Her toes flexed and wiggled. The spaces between each digit appreciated the heat. The wine was nice, rich and almost intimidating. The cake was spicy but in the most gratifying way. Muriel loved the whipped cream.
When her belly was full and half the wine was gone, Muriel curtsied and thanked her kind watcher for the dessert.
Later that night, as Muriel was slipping into bed, she wondered if Prince Vidar thought her feet were pretty. On pure impulse, she sat up and lit a few extra candles just so she could bend a leg and look at a foot.
It was small and finely shaped, clean and groomed. There wasn't anything offensive about it. Maybe he did like it.
She put her fingers between her toes. Then she pulled the fingers out and touched the ball of the foot. Soft and warm.
