Muriel had to leave soon after her marriage's consummation, and she slept in her new bedroom. She woke up so early in the morning that she could barely see any sunlight. She washed herself with cool water. Then she used a metal comb dipped in just enough of a perfumed oil to give her hair a light sheen and a pleasant aroma. As her eyes lazily took in her reflection in a mirror with a gold plated frame, she wondered if Vidar slept well.
There was a confident moment where Muriel thought the sex might have eased his mind of his terrors, but her common sense returned to her. She couldn't easily treat such a problem, and certainly not with sex. Goodness, right before she learned of Vidar's condition first-hand, she had given into his erotic urges. He would likely have this problem for the rest of his life.
Muriel sighed and put her hair up into a braided bun, but she also let a few locks dangle so she could curl them.
Some maids would come soon to help her, but she didn't want to stress them out too much on their first day. She wasn't the princess' paid companion anymore. She was the Princess Consort of Norantha and Countess of Matas, bride of the castle's master. She had status and a certain amount of power now, and of course that meant she had the right to put out more demands.
And, obviously, money wasn't an issue anymore. She no longer served Princess Arya, and she received no more payments from her, but as Vidar's wife she was entitled to an allowance from him. Since he had a great amount of wealth, that meant her allowance would be very impressive.
Muriel didn't even feel bad about that. They were married, after all.
But she did promise to herself that she would never be extreme.
Eventually, the maids came. They helped her get dressed and put on her makeup. One maid even offered to help her put her stockings on. Muriel just told her to find her favorite blue garters as she put pointed her toes into a stocking.
In the family's favorite dining room, Muriel met her husband and mother-in-law. Breakfast was served. Savory pancakes with bits of bacon and cheese, sliced sausage, and toast with fruit.
It was a peaceful morning.
As for the late afternoon, she walked with Vidar around the keep, chatting with him about all sorts of things. Soon, she leaned into him and whispered something very wifely to him. Well, Vidar made a coughing noise and laced some of his fingers together with hers. Then he escorted her into the keep and up to his bedchamber.
They kissed and nuzzled, but just when Muriel felt her bodice being unpinned, she whispered to him, "Vidar? Weren't you supposed to put your seed inside me? You haven't done that yet."
The two hands on her body were suddenly tight and unmoving. Vidar's voice was almost cold against her cheek. "Muriel, I know that men want children, and men with wealth want them even more, but I'm deathly frightened of the thought."
"Why would you have such an intense fear of something so vital?" Muriel folded her arms and pouted, but she still kept close to Vidar.
"Darling ... you know much more than everyone else what I am. What if a child of mine is shaped the same way? How can you deliver a child with so many limbs?" His voice shrank. "You'd die. The child might also die."
Muriel's bosom chilled, but she ignored that feeling. "You not the only parent. I'm normal, am I not? What if a child of ours would be as perfect as any other average newborn?"
His warmth moved away.
Vidar ... actually stepped away from her!!
"It's a risk we can't afford," he said.
"But you must have a proper heir!" Muriel's good mood was slowly being poisoned, drip by drip. "When the people question us, what could we do without an heir?!"
Who was he to deny her anything? Who?
Vidar sat down in one of his armchairs near his fireplace. Both he and the seat's cushions sighed. His great head pointed down. "We could always hire a man to do what I'd rather not."
Her husband. That's who Vidar was. Her husband.
Muriel's head might as well have been a lit match. Her vision was blocked by so much fire and blood that she couldn't think to do much except stomp her feet, shake her fists, and scream, "What?! What!!"
Vidar bounced right back up out of his seat. One patchy hand reached out to her. "Muriel, calm yourself. I know this is upsetting, but there's no need to hurt our ears."
Muriel marched up to him and pointed at his big, ugly face, too furious to care about how unsettling he looked. "How dare you?! How can you even consider such a wretched thing for your wife?!"
She felt his breath shoot out like an impatient beast's. He pushed her hand away, but it the movement was quick enough to feel like a slap. "Here's another solution. I'll find a fair woman that's already expecting a child. We'll misrepresent you as pregnant and keep the true mother as a wet-nurse and eventually a nanny."
Never before could Muriel remember a time when she wanted to hit Prince Vidar so fiercely. She didn't do that, however. She only picked up her skirts, kicked his armchair, and loudly knocked it over. Vidar took a few clumsy steps away from her.
"I REFUSE TO TAKE ANOTHER'S CHILD!!" Muriel hollered.
"STOP IT!! YOU'RE ACTING LIKE A BRUTE OF A WOMAN!!"
Oh? So Vidar was capable of asserting himself? Too bad, though. Muriel didn't dwell on the new discovery. She just kept screaming at him.
Vidar went for her then. He didn't restrain himself. Not only did one hand cover mouth, but many more went to her body, on her arms, on her waist, even holding her legs together, as he carried her to the bed. Muriel tried to move, but she couldn't. Even though this sort of thing would normally disturb her to the point of blind panic, her anger overpowered her brain. All she could do was flinch and helplessly whine as her eyes fumed.
He pinned her down to the bed as he looked down at her, nearly snarling, but his small eyes still held their tenderness.
And for a moment, there was a little window for Muriel to stick her her head through, letting her breathe in a small amount of clarity instead of her smoky anger. There were thick curtains of arms all around her sight, long fleshy branches, with the source in the center, monstrous and ominous.
But before she had a chance to express any fear, Vidar put another hand over her eyes.
"There's no need to be so wild, Muriel. I'm not going to harm you. I'd never harm you."
The anger returned, although with a bit less violence. Muriel tried to utter something but his flesh blocked her. She smelled and tasted soap, skin, and a little sweat. Wanting to lash out, she trembled beneath the impervious bonds. Then, sadness blended in with the anger, and her own tears added to the flavors.
"Muriel ..."
The hand that had been on her mouth lifted. Then the backs of its fingers caressed her jaw and cheek.
"I'd never let anything harm you. Please ... don't forget that."
A familiar kiss ... yet it held a tart pain.
Muriel still whined, but as her husband's tongue filled her mouth and intruded upon her senses, her mood changed yet again. The muscles between her thighs pulsed. She wasn't even concerned about all the hands on her. If anything ...
If? Anything?
Touching her so sweetly ... yes ... these were all only ... parts of him ... extensions of his will ...
And he loved her ...
His licks were returned.
He wasn't covering her eyes anymore, but that didn't matter. Her eyes were shut.
