I Love You, My Cursed Prince

She marched up to a spot maybe two feet away from the figure and folded her arms. "Are you having a laugh at me?"

The head shifted down at little as if he was looking at her. There were eyeholes, or she thought so. The shadows were nearly consuming him.

"Absolutely not, Muriel. There's no joy here."

That was certainly Vidar's voice. It was muffled, but she recognized it.

Muriel was shooting out so much air that it was almost a miracle that she didn't float up to the ceiling. "If you're going to hide your body, then I'll simply leave. I'll keep your secret to my grave, but I won't live here anymore."

She spun around and took one step.

A tight, unyielding grip on her right upper arm, right through her cloak.

"Huh?" Muriel looked back.

It was ...

A man's hand. That's all.

But it was the most she had ever seen of Prince Vidar, and she was glad to have it under her eyes. She stepped back around and took that hand in her own grasp, lifting it from her arm. Still looking at the hand, she rubbed the fingers with her thumb as she moved closer to the oil lamp.

Only a hand. Fingernails. Joints. Normally tapered and everything.

But ...

But?

It was a bit difficult to perceive in the poor light, but it seemed that the prince's skin tone wasn't even. It was as if someone took several different patches of flesh tones and welded them together. From the darkest of the dark to a sickly pale, random collections of skin colors.

"Oh, Vidar." Her voice was much softer and the anger was gone. Is this your skin?"

"There isn't a part of my body that doesn't have this coloring."

"Is it more striking in the daylight?" She was c.a.r.e.s.sing the back of his hand with her index finger.

"Of course."

She encircled his wrist with her fingers. Then her eyes went to the arm.

A long, b.a.r.e arm ... protruding from an opening in the cloak.

But ... its location on the body ... it was ... too low. It wasn't where the shoulder should be.

And it was so oddly long! Muriel thought that tall men usually had long arms, but this was bit too preposterous.

Vidar pulled his hand away from her. Then he reached up to the cloth on his head. The angle that his elbow helped to create was so odd. It didn't seem natural.

Those unevenly colored fingers pinched the fabric.

Deep set eyes are normal.

The eyes Muriel saw were an extreme version of that.

Muriel was looking at a bald head with the most spectacularly prominent brow she had ever seen. No eyebrows, by the by. Only flesh, crazily colored flesh. The eyes ... they ... were small, or they looked small ... yet wide and even bulging ... they didn't fit on the face. They seemed to have been designed for a smaller head. The shadows probably made it look worse than it was, but Muriel still found herself completely unable to smile.

"Oh. I ... I hope you don't have difficulty keeping your head warm." It was the kindest thing she could think of, and she said it with a mild tone.

Wait ... she couldn't even see his nose yet ... and ... there was already so much of his head?! Muriel frowned.

He tugged some of the cloak down, showing some of his nose.

Muriel's cheek and eye both twitched.

That was a nose's bridge, and it was too thin. Far too thin. How could he even breathe?

Lower.

The nostrils, and the cheeks. They simply didn't work together. The nostrils and tips of the nose were also too thin with only a lightly triangular shape. The cheeks, oh by the Creator the cheeks! They were so deadly sharp, so hollow, so achingly hungry looking, starving. Did he even have muscles under the skin there?!

Muriel took a short breath and clapped her hands together as if she wanted to say something, but she didn't say anything.

And lower.

A ... a chin?

A jaw?

But they looked like they had been stretched out. No, the whole head was stretched?! It was like ... well ... a very slender briolette gemstone with the pointed end facing down.

And those lips ...

Really were thin.

Barely even there lines.

A suggestion of lips.

The eyes, nose, and lips, they were all too small for the head indeed. The chin and jaw reached so far down, and the forehead reached so far up, that the whole thing looked nearly comical.

But also bizarre, uncanny, and even sinister.

Muriel said, "Oh!" But it wasn't a questioning oh. It wasn't an accepting oh. It had the same pitch as a statement made when stubbing one's toe. Then she gave him a very blunt statement. "You have a hideous face."

The strange head nodded. The almost wiry lips moved.

And Vidar spoke.

"I'm aware."

The teeth ...

Muriel only saw them for a moment, but ...

Human teeth were normally in certain positions in the gums. Yes, they often varied, and sometimes they were hopelessly crooked.

But this wasn't a matter of being crooked. The teeth were not aligned in normal human locations. For example, there weren't two front teeth in the center of the top gums. There was one tooth in the center instead.

And there were so many teeth!! She had only seen some of them, but she could already tell that there were more than what a human would typically have.

There was absolutely nothing charming, nothing cute, nothing warm, nothing pleasant about this face.

Again, Muriel barked out, "Oh!"

Then she tapped her fingertips together before her bosom. "I ... well ... hm ... I ... you are very ugly, but ... well it doesn't signify too much." But she was looking down at the floor. She wasn't looking up at the face. It was signifying no matter what she said.

Despite it all, she was mentally reminding herself that she loved him. This was the man who was so kind to her. This was the man who kissed her. This was the man who wanted to grant her the title of Princess Consort.

The pulling and fluttering of fabric.

The cloak was being opened?

Muriel looked back up.

...

...

Uh ...

But ... clavicles don't come in rows ...

And ...

Oh ...

Oh!!

Repeating, branching, unfolding ...

Overwhelming!!

Limbs!

Uncountable!!

More than a spider!!

And this ... this creature moved down.

Muriel retreated. Her shaking hands were on her lips.

This creature ... crawled forward almost like a centipede!!

It looked so much bigger on the ground than it did on the stool!!

Muriel fled.

She slammed the lock on the door aside. She yanked the door open, nearly tripped out of the room, and slammed the door closed.

Heart pounding, lungs struggling, fingers in her pretty skirts, she ran.

And ran.

And ran!!

She stumbled, careened into a decorative suit of armor just outside the prince's quarters, and fell down, knocking the heavy thing over. It landed on her as she screamed. So did the tall lance it was holding.

Pain!

Somewhere, there was the sound of a bell. She could hardly hear it.

Was that ... the emergency bell for the doctor?

Muriel tried to get up.

But she hurt so much, and the armor was so heavy.

She tried to regulate her breathing. The thing with so many damn arms wasn't pursuing her.

Some seconds later, Muriel remembered the most damning fact.

That was Vidar. Damn it, that was Vidar!!

And she had ran from him like he was a physical incarnation of the deadliest plague!!

Openly, unrestrained, she wept. She m.o.a.n.e.d as the tears burst out. Mucus drained from her nose.

It was like that for a moment, but she soon heard and felt footsteps on the floor.

"Miss Devin!!" That was the doctor.

Doctor Bergson pulled and dragged the armor away. Then he helped Muriel to her feet.

"Are you in pain?"

Muriel could barely get the words out. That's how heavily she cried. "I ... I'm a terrible woman! A ... a monster! Ah ... ha ... ack!! I ran away!!"

The doctor supported her body to keep her from collapsing. "You could be injured. Let me escort you to your bedchamber."