The Most Beautiful Eyes Ch 16

One of the few people willing to have Vidar attend their balls was an old countess who was on remarkably good terms with Princess Arya. Vidar still told the women in his life that he would only sit in a corner and watch the festivities, wearing his plain and dark clothing that he had made all on his own.

Muriel thought she might be able to lure him onto the dance floor with her charms. Her nipples were only hidden by strategically placed bands of lace pinned to her neckline. Her elbow-length sleeves were essentially tiers of that same lace without any exposure of the gown's pale pink color. Her lips were red and inviting, and her eyes were flirtatious. As she danced with many men, mostly older married men, she would always look back at the almost surly man who sat alone.

He had about three feet of space around himself because none of the other guests wanted to be close. Some openly stared at him. Some were determined to ignore him. At one point, Muriel found herself in a very angry state, because someone complained to the hostess. And what did the hostess do? She asked some servants to arrange tall room dividers to hide Vidar. Muriel actually left her dancing partner in the middle of a set, not bothering to give an apology. Then she stomped over to the scene and asked the hostess, "What's taking place here, My Lady? Why is my betrothed shrinking behind these wooden walls?"

Princess Arya had appeared to have the same thought process as Muriel. She had also left her dancing partner and she was approaching with a bitterness in her features. "Dear Countess? Could you provide an explanation for this?"

Vidar didn't let the countess answer. He spoke for her. "It's fine. I'm content with this."

Peeking through the thin spaces between the beautifully carved wooden panels, Muriel said, "This is degrading. How can you have any dignity if you hide behind these things?"

Some of his fingers waved at her from behind the cracks. His voice was tired. "Don't let yourself be riled over nothing. This is the best option."

Princess Arya looked away from the room dividers and tapped her palm with her closed folding fan. "Well ... Countess ... now that I've heard my son's wishes, how can I gripe any longer?" There was still anger in her eyes, however.

Muriel gave the countess a fierce look and said, "Well, if this is what my betrothed desires, then I'll show him my solidarity. Find more dividers, because I'm going to take a seat beside him."

The countess' eyebrows rose while Vidar's voice turned assertive. "No! Go and dance so I can watch you through the cracks!"

Muriel sighed and shook her head. "Haven't you done enough of that?"

"Are you tired of being watched?"

She blushed and fanned herself as if there was a sudden heatwave. Her voice crumbled. "Well ... there's nothing I can do, is there? Nothing at all. If my prince has a demand, then I must comply."

Things continued for a while. Princess Arya and Muriel danced as if nothing had changed.

Except a familiar excitement rose in Muriel's blood.

A hidden set of eyes focused on her, loving her delight.

Her face, throat, and bosom all took on a subtle hue of pink as she imagined his eyes, as unfortunately grotesque as they were, following her movements. She was able to smile and laugh again.

But soon, there was a gasping sort of frenzy in the dancing hall, and Muriel didn't know why at first. She ran off to find Princess Arya. She had been looking for Muriel too.

"What's all this curiosity about?" she asked the princess.

Princess Arya took her arm and guided her off to the room dividers where Vidar sat. "It's rather interesting. My honorable son Emil decided to wander into this ball without any invitation nor warning."

Muriel tried to hide her expression of combined horror and anger behind her fan, but she imagined she wasn't doing a fine job of it. "Oh, Madam! I can only imagine the shock the dear countess felt when the Crown Prince arrived. She must have been unable to refuse such a man."

When they stood beside the room dividers, the princess leaned in towards a crack and said, "Take heart, Dear. Your brother has arrived."

"Oh?" Vidar's voice was drained of anything even similar to happiness. "What an unfortunate coincidence. I was thinking I need to leave soon, only after apologizing to our kind hostess, of course."

"What an unfortunate coincidence, indeed!" someone else said.

Muriel hopped a bit. She hadn't been expecting that masculine voice behind her.

Princess Arya turned away from the room dividers and straightened her back. Her face was so cold. "Oh, how lovely. I hope you're doing well." She took Muriel's wrist and led her to a position a bit behind her. Muriel gave a curtsy as Crown Prince Emil bowed. He was very flashy in a green outfit with a rich, repeating pattern of white flowers.

His well groomed fingers made a lazy little gesture towards the room dividers. "Little Brother, I heard you haven't been dancing." He gave a throaty chuckle. "Well, perhaps that was a very thoughtful decision. You never were the sort to cause anyone any discomfort."

Well, the insult in there wasn't very well hidden, now was it?

Muriel held her fan very close to her lips and looked down at the floor.

As for Vidar, he didn't answer.

Princess Arya did instead. "I'm afraid that we must be impolite, Emil. Vidar has a terrible headache."

Muriel looked back to the cracks, as if she desperately wanted to see the person behind the panels, and she puled out, "Poor, sweet man! We'll have to tend to him well or else his condition will worsen."

"I'm quite disappointed," Prince Emil said as he stepped towards Muriel. "I had hoped to have a dance with my soon to be family member."

Screeeeeech!! Whack!!

Muriel had to rapidly blink a few times before she could understand what had happened. Some of the guests paused to observe the situation.

Vidar had put one of his palms against a wall divider. Then he had shoved it so hard, so quickly, that it slammed against Prince Emil and knocked him towards Muriel's right by maybe two feet. In fact, the divider would have fallen on top of Prince Emil if he hadn't stopped it with his arm. He grunted and asked in a very upset tone, "What do you think you're doing?!"

That was when Vidar stepped out of his lonely zone. He gripped the edge of the tilted divider. His fingertips touched the wood one by one. His odd nostrils were unusually round. He had an uneven scowl on his face, the strangely placed white teeth becoming something that was nearly unbearable.

It was at that moment that Muriel realized something.

Vidar was significantly taller than Prince Emil.

Was it that way before the curse, or did Vidar's new form change his height?

As Vidar folded the divider and laid it aside, Muriel risked a look at Prince Emil's face.

Gentle surprise, that was on the older brother's face. It was as if he had a thought similar to Muriel's, as if he had only just understood that Vidar was taller than him.

And Vidar was looking down at his brother as if he was tempted to tie him up and make him into a eunuch.

"My betrothed is highly devoted," Vidar said. "She must leave with me."

Prince Emil gave a light snort as one of his shoulders rose. Then he smiled. "That's perfectly acceptable. I hope you recover soon."

Muriel, Princess Arya, and Vidar all went to find the countess so they could politely leave, but Muriel felt Prince Emil's eyes stabbing her nape all the while.

***

Despite Muriel's almost childish protests, Vidar ordered his own special panels for future balls. They were sturdy with cracks of air so thin that one couldn't peek through them. However, there were a few specially designed slots, just big enough for Vidar to look through, with sliding rectangles for either covering the slots or revealing them.

"I fret over you, Dearest," Muriel said to him with a shaking head. "This mindset isn't healthy."

Vidar didn't care. On their next ball, he personally set up his panels, forming something like an isosceles trapezoid.

But before the first set, Princess Arya took Muriel aside and whispered into her ear, "If Emil comes again, we won't be able to run away without damaging Vidar's reputation. Leaving at the sight of his older brother twice in a row? Most would find that to be suspicious."

With a frown, Muriel asked, "Do you truly believe your older son will come to this event uninvited, as he did to the last?"

"I expect he will," said the princess.

It didn't take long. Muriel had only danced through one set when she was suddenly approached by Prince Emil. She wasn't certain when he had arrived nor where he had been up until that point. He smiled down at her with that wicked, unnerving mouth of his. As handsome, as soft, as well mannered as it appeared, Muriel hated to see that mouth. He stretched his palm out towards her. There were a few rings on his fingers. He asked for a dance in the most polite, most normal way.

Briefly, Muriel considered refusing him, but people were watching and listening. They would wonder, why wouldn't Muriel kindly dance with her soon to be brother-in-law? Shouldn't they be on good terms? As much as Princess Arya disliked this man, she didn't want the royal family's odd dynamic to be gossiped about any more than they already likely were.

Reluctantly, Muriel put her hand in his. She nodded, silently giving her consent.

Prince Emil's voice darkened as he said, "That's a good little child." Then he took her to the dance floor.

But she refused to look at his face.

When it was over, she ran away from him faster than a cockroach scurrying into a wall's crack. She went right to the trapezoid of wood, sat down on a stool, and swallowed down a bit of vomit that had been playing games with her belly. Then she discreetly reached into a pocket to get a mint tablet. As she chewed on the refreshing thing with a regretful expression, she heard Vidar's voice.

"Once is enough. You've satisfied the public."

"I should hope so," Muriel said.

Prince Emil didn't approach any of the trio for the rest of the ball. He seemed ... quenched. Whenever Muriel happened to see his eyes from afar, he'd be giving her a smug look as if he had just proved something to her.

"If anything," Muriel thought, "all he proved was that he's irritating."

***

It was an early morning, but there was plenty of sleepy sunlight. Muriel was sitting by a window, cutting into a sheet of colorful paper. She was planning on creating a delicate butterfly. Vidar was near her, but he kept away from the window. One of his hands were holding out a paper bird as he admired it. "Such harmless joys, they need to be treasured," he said.

Muriel smiled down at her fingers. "If one can find pleasure in the simpler things, then one can find happiness even if their wealth is taken away."

"I doubt that," Vidar said as he put his bird on a side table.

"Hmmmm ... excess cash does lead to a higher quality of life, or at least it normally does." Muriel shrugged. She accidentally snipped away a bit of paper she had wanted to keep intact. "Oh, such a bother! I'll have to start anew."

Princess Arya stepped into the room. She had on a fancy straw hat with lace and ribbon details. Her cheeks drew inwards, then out, as her breath moved. "Aren't you two coming, or have you both forgotten?"

"Oh?" Vidar's voice was nearly thoughtless. "I'd honestly forgotten for a moment."

"I've promised your honorable son that I'd craft a butterfly for him," Muriel said as she started folding a new sheet of paper.

"Take the paper and scissors with you, if you must," the princess said. "We're off to the maze."

Muriel slid her scissors under her skirt and into a pocket tied around her waist. She did the same with some cautiously bundled paper. Then she stood up and patted her hair.

The maze the princess was referring to was an attraction in a pleasure garden. It was a bit similar to the maze at the Royal Palace, but smaller. Muriel wasn't as excited as she should have been. She was cutting paper in her lap during the carriage ride there. Princess Arya was a concerned, since the ride was a little bumpy. "Please don't stab yourself, Muriel," she said. "Those scissors have been well sharpened."

As if she hadn't suggested that Muriel take the scissors with her!

Muriel rolled her eyes, but otherwise she wasn't troubled.

The walls of the maze were made of well groomed, very tall hedges covered in thorny vines with full peach roses. Whenever someone noticed Vidar, which wasn't difficult since he was so tall and striking, that someone would often creep away, and sometimes they'd whisper in someone else's ear when they thought they were far enough away. Muriel wondered if this would always be a problem for the poor man.

Her scissors and paper tucked into her pocket, her head high, her straw hat pinned to her hair at a stylish angle, Muriel smiled up at Vidar's unpleasantly big head. He had on a cloth cap instead of a fashionable triangular hat. He almost looked like a caricature of an earthy ghost or a hateful old man. "Dearest," she said to him, "I believe I'll never be lost here, since you're so tall. You could look over the walls and find me so easily."

Vidar nodded as he looked around. "Yes, but I'd have to raise myself on the balls of my feet to do so."

"Oh that's not a problem," Muriel said as she put her fingers in a handful of fabric in his cloak. "But I'll still keep close."

The trio entered the maze quietly with Princess Arya taking the lead. The air was sweet and green. The pathways between the hedges were made of rough bricks. "These flowers are nearly as lovely as a baby's sleeping face," the princess remarked as she let her fingertip graze one of the blooms' petals.

"I wonder if there are any perfumes made from these flowers," Vidar said as he stopped walking to look down at one particularly large rose.

Muriel stood beside him. "We could ask the groundskeeper for the flower's name."

"Hmmm ... here's a little mischief." Vidar's voice lowered as he put two fingers under his new favorite rose. "Lend me your scissors. I'll cut a rose away and thread its stem into your hat."

Muriel slapped one of his arms, although it was more of a vigorous pat than a slap. "If every guest took a rose then there would be no more blooms to sweeten this maze. Such a thing is certainly forbidden, and your position in society is not enough to forgive you. Find a way to purchase a packet of seeds instead."

Tapping the edge of a petal with an index finger, Vidar muttered, "I was teasing. There was no need to be so rigid."

"Oh, well it was my fault, wasn't it? I should have remembered how good and honest you are." Muriel turned to look at the princess. She had wanted to say, "It's wonderful for him to be so lively, isn't it?"

But Princess Arya wasn't there.

Muriel shook Vidar's clothing and said, "Vidar, oh Vidar! Your mother's gone!"

Vidar completely abandoned the rose as he spun around. "What?! Where is she?!"

"I don't know!" Muriel stepped a little bit away from her betrothed as she put a hand near her mouth and called out, "Your Highness?! Princess?!"

Vidar was soon imitating her. "Mother?! Mother?!" He stretched up to look over the walls. Then he growled as his features wrinkled into something full of rage. He literally climbed over a hedge, uncaring of the thorns on the vines. He used around six arms to do it.

Muriel cried out, "Wait! What's wrong?" But she was quickly left alone. Perhaps not truly alone, there were occasional groups of people spread out in the maze, but Muriel didn't know those people. She didn't want to seek them out. As wild as her next thought was, she considered trying to climb the hedge wall, but she didn't want to damage her hands. She could see the bloody points of those tiny spikes all over the vines.

"Damn it, Vidar!" she said aloud with clenched fists. "You should've put me on your back and then went over the wall!"

There was the sound of men fighting on the other side of the hedge wall. What in the world?!

"Huh? Vidar?!"

Then, there was something. Something tight, forceful, and fleshy, on her lips, muffling her voice. A hand?! She tried to pry the hand away but she was pulled back.

Cold metal at her throat.

An uncouth, masculine voice.

"Don't scream, or I'll cut you deep!"

She didn't want to die. So, she let her steps move with the man. The hand was removed from her mouth. The weapon moved away, but within a second it was at her shoulder as he gripped her there, as if this man was a close friend or something.

There was a break in a particular wall. Muriel saw the break as she was taken through it. She thought it looked ragged, something that wasn't in the maze's original design. It was as if someone outside force decided to change the maze and they weren't prissy about it.

She was taken through another opening, then another, and then she wasn't in the maze at all. She was taken through an area with a stone wall and an open gate. Then through the gate, then to an alleyway.

Broad daylight!! This was broad daylight!!

Muriel turned her eyes to see the weapon. The hand on her shoulder was dark and dirty. There was a blade under the palm, the sharp edges kept away from all flesh. It was hidden enough so that an average passerby wouldn't notice it, but it was close enough for her kidnapper to very quickly hurt her if needed.

Through a side door of one of the buildings framing the alleyway.

Into an empty, dusty foyer. Up a set of creaky stairs. Then, finally, into a small room.

It was bare, not a single piece of furniture, but a person was there.

A casually dressed Crown Prince Emil, his hands behind his back, his grin a bit too wide, he was standing. He had clearly been waiting for her.

The man that had forced Muriel to this place left, slamming the door behind him.

Muriel tried to maintain a calm exterior, but she was trembling. Her fingers were cold even though the weather was hot.

"Let's not tarry, Miss Devin," the prince said as he took two steps forward, putting his wrist before himself and tugging on his coat's cuff. "I'll be direct. Why would you ever depend on that thing that was once my brother when you could have depended on me? It can't be an issue of wealth nor power. I have far more luxuries available for you, and much more power."

He sounded like a business man discussing some dull matter with paperwork ... or he mostly did. There was an odd flavor daintily added to his voice, something poisonous.

Muriel knew nothing she could say would change this man's mind. He was clearly stubborn, so stubborn that he had apparently arranged to have a hedge maze brutally vandalized just to get her alone.

"Hm?" His eyebrow quirked up as he stepped closer. Muriel could smell his fruity cologne. Her cold hands went into her pockets, warm and protected. She looked down at the man's chin. "You don't have an answer?" Prince Emil asked almost sarcastically.

He touched the soft spot under her chin. He tilted her head backwards.

And like a bolt of lightening, he changed. His face was wild. He barked down at her, "Answer me, you stupid little worm!"

He grabbed her throat.

The scissors!!

She couldn't breathe!!

One of Muriel's hands went to the prince's cruel fingers on her neck. As for the other, well, Muriel yanked her scissors out of her pocket and from under her skirts. She then jammed the pointed tips of the scissors into Prince Emil's ribs, right through his waistcoat and shirt, where blood rapidly bloomed in the fabric.

"Ack!!"

He let her go and retreated, grabbing the scissors' handles.