I Love You, My Cursed Prince

She was back in the chair, bound and blindfolded, waiting for the prince to emerge, and he did. Muriel heard him. He knocked on the door, waited for the doctor's voice, and then he locked the door. Then he was in front of her, and Muriel again smelled that masculine scent.

For a moment she wondered just how ugly this man could possibly be, and why did it seem that she was being manipulated in so many ways?

"Good afternoon, Miss Devin. Are you well?"

Muriel nodded and closed her gloved fingers into what she hoped were elegant positions. "Yes, Your Highness. Thank you for you concern."

"You seemed to enjoy the treats left for you." A sigh, a gritty sigh, she felt it in the air. It sounded correct. "It ... it was fun too see that you were happy." His voice was lighter than normal. "Your fingers are so graceful."

"My lord is very kind," Muriel said.

A bit of urgency came over the prince. "Wait. I mean, listen? Please listen."

"What else can I do, Your Highness?" Muriel couldn't help it. She smirked a little, and she said, "I can't very well leave the room, now can I?" The only reason why she thought she was free to say that was because at this point she was convinced the prince had some meekness in him.

"Oh! Ha ... well ... yes. I mean that I have a request. It ... it's a very strange request."

Muriel wanted to roll her eyes. She settled for an eyebrow rising underneath the blindfold. "I'm loyal to my lord, who's also my prince, how can I deny you anything?" She tried very hard to keep her negative emotions out of her voice.

There was a shuffling that possibly involved clothing and limbs. "I was imagining a bit of ... entertainment. I'd ask for servants to carry certain furniture and other items here. Then, after they leave, I'd arrange everything to my tastes. And finally, you'd come here to sit down and read, or sew, or whatever you fancy, and eat more treats."

Muriel's fingers separated and bent in a way that nearly stung. "I ... I'd be alone in this room?"

"Ye ... yes, Miss." He sounded like he was ready to spit out an apology.

"And you'd simply ... hide in the walls and watch me through a tiny hole?"

"I ... I know it's very ridiculous, but if you did this for me, then I'd be so happy, so very happy."

Muriel's lips thinned out as she struggled with the implications.

"Miss?"

"Ah ... Your Highness, what would your mother think of this common companion if she were to have her prince of a son fawn over her?"

A laugh. There was a cough hidden in there, but it was still a laugh. "She's a strict woman, but not unkind. She understands my problem, and she won't hinder my fingers from any dram of happiness within my reach."

Muriel gasped.

Her brain was like a wooden puzzle box being slid and clicked into its solution. She thought she understood something.

Assuming that Prince Vidar had such poor self-esteem, and he cloistered himself even from the servants, then he might be terribly depressed, even desperate for new things to do and see.

Her cheeks and nose were nearly electric as she felt an odd rush, believing she had truly understood something.

This was why Princess Arya had kicked companion after companion out of the castle, why she had been so selective, why she was so kind to the one she eventually chose!

Princess Arya had wanted to find someone, someone she could trust, to entertain her son, to keep him happy.

"Miss Devin?"

Muriel's bosom trembled under her clothing as she swallowed all her attempts at giggling. "Hm? I ... well, I don't see the harm in giving you something special to look at, something for your eyes only."

This time, the prince was the one who gasped, but Muriel detected joy. "Ah ... thank you! Thank you so very much! I don't know if I can properly express how ... how thrilled I am!"