I Love You, My Cursed Prince

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?"