The Most Beautiful Eyes Ch 10

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 caressed 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 sexual 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 assume 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, barely 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!"

"So you haven't imagined a way? All the times you've thought of me, it hasn't crossed your mind?"

A gasp. "What are you trying to do to me?"

Muriel shrugged. "If you don't want to untie my hand, then could you think of another way to have me please you?"

"Ah! Oh ... well ... Muriel?" There was a light wet noise, as if Vidar had sucked some air into his mouth and popped his lips. "I'm much taller than you. I don't know if I could ... ah ... reach you."

Reach?

Muriel's fingernails were tapping on the chair's arms. "Reach where? Tell me where you'll reach so I can be prepared for it."

She heard him approach then. He seemed to stop on her left. That's where his scent was. His fingertips tapped her lips a few times.

"Oh," Muriel said with nearly instant understanding. She blushed, but she wasn't offended. "I presume you wash yourself regularly?"

"Sometimes, even the most beautiful people don't understand that they need to rinse themselves, therefore, I take no offense. You ask wise questions for a virgin."

Muriel suddenly thought of something. "What of disease?"

"Yes, that can also cause a bad odor, along with much worse symptoms." She thought she heard him clap two hands together once, as if he was about to make an important point. "When I wasn't such a disgusting creature, I did have my pleasures, but I was always cautious. I even used condoms. I'd never willingly expose you to anything unhealthy."

Muriel smiled and nodded. "I trust you."

That statement alone was meaningful. It was difficult for Muriel to give her trust to anyone.

"Very well, Muriel. You'll need to breathe through your nose, and please keep your teeth off me. That can be very painful."

She truly licked her lips then, tasting her very thin layer of rouge. "I'll do my best for you."

"Yes ... well ... please wait a moment."

Fabric whispering against other fabrics, cords being tugged. Fluttering and flapping.

Again, a hand on her face.

She smelled something heavy, dense, and so musky that she thought of a time when she had her legs spread and her hand between her thighs.

"I'm ready and willing," Muriel said.

And ... there ... smooth and soft, almost rubbery, but obviously flesh, and it was so warm. Right on her lips. She opened, and there was more, nearly filling her mouth.

His hand went up to her hair. The fingers dug in a bit.

An intake of breath, it wasn't hers. He sounded ... like he had just got a paper cut, but Muriel knew that she hadn't harmed him.

"By ... by the Creator!!"

Well ... that didn't sound like he had just got a paper cut. That sounded like he was so joyful that he could hardly contain himself! Muriel had to force herself to not smile. She didn't think smiling would be a good thing to do in this situation.

Backwards, chafing against her lips, then back in as the man's voice buzzed out absurdity.

Feminine pride was simmering in Muriel's belly and brain. She was pleasing the man who had always been so benevolent, so loving, so nearly perfect!

Out, in, out in, groaning, fingers tugging on her hair. The chair was beginning to rock ever so slightly.

This was beginning to put a soreness in her jaw.

Muriel whined against the flesh in her mouth. Saliva was trickling out and running down her chin and neck.

"Ah! Aggghhhh!!" He yanked his penis out. His hand left her head. More fabric moving. Grunting. Then fleshy, rubbing noises.

Muriel closed her lips and wished she could wipe at herself.

"Fuck!! Ah ... haaaaaah ... hnnnn."

She sighed.

And even more fabric, it swiped against flesh. Then Vidar's voice. "I ... well ... thank you."

She grinned.

"You're face is wet," Vidar said. She felt him rub her face dry with something that seemed to be cotton.

"Thank you, Vidar."

"Why ... why must you be so endearing?"

A tired bit of air flowed out of Muriel's nostrils. "Hmmmm ... I believe you've inspired me to be endearing. I want you to think of me that way."

"Ah! So you've been manipulating me all this time?" He chuckled.

"Yes, but so have you. I'm clay in your hands."

"I suppose that's what seduction is, isn't it? A form of manipulation."

It didn't feel like manipulation, though.

***

Muriel found herself wondering about the mark on her toe. Maybe she could talk to Prince Vidar about it. He would empathize, wouldn't he? He might even be able to help her figure out what possible spell could have been placed on her, and whether it was a curse or a blessing.

She brought it up during an innocent conversation with Prince Vidar. She almost forgot about it, though, because she had been laughing and enjoying his scent.

"Oh, I've been pondering something, but it's a hurtful subject."

"A hurtful subject?" His voice and warmth was on her right. He had began sitting on cushions. Muriel knew because she'd seen the cushions on the floor near the chair before she'd been blindfolded. "What hurtful subject could you think of? Don't you live well?"

"I live incredibly well," Muriel said with a nod, "but I hope you'll humor me when I ask this. When you were cursed, how did you know?"

A pause.

Then, "I felt pain, a sort of pain I don't want to describe to you. My body morphed and altered itself within ten minutes, which was even more painful. Then I fainted."

"I ... I'm sorry." Muriel swallowed some of her nervousness down, but not all. "Where's your mark?"

"The fairy's mark? On my ankle."

"What does it looks like?"

"It's a dark purple, nearly black, and it seems to be a half circle."

Muriel took a breath. "The fact that you're cursed, that alone doesn't embarrass you, does it? You're embarrassed because of what the curse did to your body."

She heard him adjusting his weight on his cushion. "What's sprouting in your brain, Muriel?"

"I was wondering if you've met anyone else with fairy's marks."

"Ha ... well ... some people have spells that are more obvious, but some are more subtle, and those sorts ... I can't make any sufficient analysis with those sorts."

Muriel's fingers danced in the air as she pretended to be cheerful. "As for the latter, what if those people don't know spells have been cast on them?"

"Hm? How couldn't they know?"

"Well ... what if there are spells out there so subtle and so easily hidden that even the target doesn't know what it is, or doesn't even think the mark is a true fairy's mark?"

More shuffling of the prince's weight. "That's dangerous. What if that person accidentally harms someone?"

Muriel's fingers stilled as her courage forsook her. "That ... that's a frightening concept."

She worried about it for the rest of the day, even into the night. She rolled around in bed very miserably. It was as if her pillows no longer functioned properly.

Muriel gave up and got out of bed. The moon was so bright, peeking out from between closed curtains on her window, leaving a sharp line of light on the floor. She rubbed at her eyelids and decided to put on an easy outfit with quilted jumps and a cloak. Then she went for a walk.

Her sinuses felt a bit irritated, even swollen. So irritating! She was snorting and blowing her nose all the way down the castle's halls, her small oil lamp quivering. She thought that some fresh air might do her some good. So, she went to the nearest exit, held her cloak tighter, and went out into the cool night air.

A potentially dangerous spell ...

Muriel's sinuses cleared up, but she wasn't happier. She was sucking on the insides of her cheeks and grinding the grass with her slippers as she wandered around.

What if she ended up hurting someone?

What if she hurt poor, sweet Vidar?!

What if she ended up killing someone?!

Damn it, who marked her? Why? What was the spell?

Was it even a spell?

Could anything be done?

Muriel couldn't think of anything. She worried that even if she told her kind patrons about her mark, they wouldn't be able to help her. They might even worry that she might harm them. They wouldn't be cruel about it, though. They'd try to be kind, but Muriel believed she might be dismissed from her position very quickly if they thought she was dangerous.

But ... would that be a bad thing? Wouldn't it be best for her to leave? But then she'd end up with her family, and she'd hate to harm them even more. Should Muriel become a damn hermit just to be safe?!

No.

Muriel shook her head.

This might have been a selfish thought, but she wasn't about to ruin her own life over a possibility that lacked strong evidence. As far as she could tell, she wasn't hurting anyone. Maybe the curse was weak, if it even was a curse.

A sudden noise, far up somewhere! Thudding and scraping!

Muriel looked up. She didn't quite know where she was. Her eyes searched the roofs of all the buildings, including the keep and its many sections and towers.

Hm? A ... a dark shape ... its details weren't visible. It was a vague shadow of a thing. It seemed to be hanging off an edge of a conical roof of a tower.

Then it moved up, and then around to a place Muriel couldn't see.

The fuck was that?! A really big bird?

Right then, Muriel decided that walking around at night was not the best thing in the world to do. She went off to find an entrance to the castle's keep.

***

"Why is there a tray of food here?" Muriel asked the doctor.

It was on a small table a foot or so away from the chair and the cushion on the floor. A handwritten note had been folded and left on the table. It read, "Please don't lift the lid. This is meant to be a surprise." There was a bottle of wine and a glass too.

Doctor Bergson shrugged at the tray. His green eyes were completely blasé. "His Highness must have something for you. I wouldn't look inside."

Muriel was concerned, but only a little, and she happily let the doctor set her up for Prince Vidar. Then she waited for all the familiar noises and voices to go on. Finally, when she felt Prince Vidar sitting on the cushion near her, Muriel asked, "What's under the lid?"

"Food," the prince replied quite simply.

"Well, I suppose that's to be expected, isn't it? Why is it here?"

"Hmmmm." For a moment, he caressed her right under her chin with the side of a finger. "I love to watch you eat, particularly when you're enjoying the tastes and textures."

Muriel's lower belly flared up in a pleasant way as she smiled. "Oh, you want to feed me by hand?"

"If you wouldn't mind."

The clinking of metal against metal tickled her ears. Prince Vidar was already removing the lid.

"Oh, this is so riveting," Muriel said as her fingers happily wiggled. She accidentally grazed the long cord that was attached to the emergency bell. She had never tugged on that cord, and she didn't think she might ever do so. The rich, sweet aromas of all the food filled up her nose. "Hmmmmmm!!"

"Can you figure out what this is?" he asked as he held something warm to her lips.

Muriel opened her mouth and accepted the treat. Crispy batter with dried currants, covered in powdered sugar. And inside, there was something crisp yet juicy!! After she swallowed, she asked, "Is this an apple fritter?"

"Yes. How's the flavor?"

"Divine! The perfect treat for the season! I'd love to eat this near a bonfire."

"A bonfire at night, of course," he said as he put another fritter to her mouth. "With music and dancing."

"So divine!"

A moment later, when she was done with her second fritter, a new thing went to her lips. There seemed to be a spoon containing it.

Soft grains, sweet syrup, raisins, fruits.

Muriel swallowed. "Is this a boiled pudding?"

"Correct, Muriel. It a little pudding just for you."

Like a dog or a cat, Muriel licked her lips. "Oh, that's wonderful. It's a dessert for a party."

"With wine and laughter and glittering smiles," Vidar said. "Are you thirsty?"

"I'd like a sip, yes."

Tink! The spoon was laid down. Pop! The bottle was opened. Then liquid being poured into another vessel, the glass. He held the rim to her lips so she could take her portion.

"There, would you like the next one?"

Muriel nodded. "Yes, thank you."

This time, it was something small. First, there was a paste with an almond flavor. Then there was something underneath that, a rich but still tender bit of cake. "Hmm!!" She tried to clean her teeth with her tongue. "What is that?"

"You don't know?"

She shook her head. "I've not a whit of an idea."

"It's a small white cake with a marzipan coating."

"Ohhhh ... that's a lovely thing! It should be served at a wedding!"

"It was a popular wedding dessert some years ago," the prince said thoughtfully, "but I don't know what's popular today."

"My sisters are betrothed," Muriel said. "I'll have to attend their weddings. I wonder if my father will able to afford such a dessert."

"Don't worry over that, Muriel. Try this."

Next was something soft with whipped cream on top. Muriel adored it. She even trembled as if she had been sitting in ice water. "I know what that is! Sponge cake with whipped cream!"

"Cake and whipped cream is one of your favorite desserts, isn't it?"

"Of course!"

"Ah, I'm glad. I have a few more."

There were a few more moments where Prince Vidar hand fed his little guest with the rest of the desserts, taking time to give her wine when it was needed. At some point, a bit of cream stubbornly remained just outside of her lips.

Then hot, wet heat with a masculine hum.

A tongue!

Prince Vidar had licked and sucked the cream right off of her. Muriel giggled and asked if there were any other "parts" that had cream on them.

"No," he said, "but I can't imagine the lack of cream would deter you. You're such a sweet girl."

And a moment or so later, Muriel had an erection pressing past her lips. She was fine with that, more than fine.

***

"Pardon me, Your Highness," the butler said one morning, interrupting a fun music session the women were having, "there's a problem. The Crown Prince has arrived, and he's demanding a room."

Princess Arya threw her flute across the room. Muriel cringed and folded her arms as she nervously looked down at the piano's keys.

"Keep him in a reception room for now," Princess Arya ordered. "Have a room opened for him in the guest's quarters, but don't put him there until you've been told otherwise."

When the butler was gone, she stepped towards Muriel and whispered in her ear, "Pretend you don't have a relationship with my younger son. Do you understand?"

Muriel frowned.

"If my older son thinks for a minute that you're linked to the younger, then everything will be ruined."

Muriel laced her fingers together in her lap. She still didn't understand.

"Yes, Vidar has given you presents. He's a generous sort, but if the Crown Prince learns of that and asks you of it, pretend that's all. If Emil learns that you've been entertaining him, then he'll start to wonder why. We can't have Emil learning of Vidar's true condition."

Well ... Prince Emil certainly did seem frightening. Muriel nodded and whispered, "Yes, Madam."

"You are to stay near me as much as possible, and don't speak to the Crown Prince. I'll speak for you. If you think for a moment that you'll be alone with him, then run. Run away to another room. I don't want you to have a conversation with him."

"Yes, Madam."

"I'll try to have him leave this place soon, but he doesn't respond well to refusals, so I can't give a solid promise."

Again, Muriel nodded.

The women checked on their appearances and went to a reception room, where Prince Emil was calmly sitting in an armchair. His smile was mellow. There was a thin case in his lap.

Muriel curtsied to him. The princess did no such thing. Prince Emil put his case on a low table and stood up. He gave his mother a little bow. "Good morning. Are you well?"

"I was feeling very well," Princess Arya said with a bitter look on her face. Muriel wouldn't have been surprised if she had just put a hunk of lemon in her mouth. "You've never been one to visit, not that I would typically accept you. Still, how can you come uninvited and ask for a room?"

With an outstretched hand, palm upwards, Prince Emil said, "I thought you might have softened after all this time, since you insist on stewing in here." His hand retracted. "Perhaps I should have sent a letter beforehand? But then, you'd only refuse me." His shoulder quirked up. "Would you a least let me give your companion a gift?"

Princess Arya stepped a bit ahead of Muriel. "She has no need for such a thing."

"But," the prince said with a flick of his lace covered wrist, "she takes gifts from an ill man, doesn't she?"