All Chapters of Spider King: The Legend Begins: Chapter 41 - Chapter 50

Princess Arya asked about the conversation during dinner ... technically. "Was my son courteous to you?" "Yes, Madam," Muriel said. "Oh, that's nice to hear." Nothing else was said of it. Princess Arya was cheerful, even humming to herself, so Muriel couldn't say that she was unwilling to talk about the issue. Perhaps she sensed that Muriel was the uneasy one, and she was showing mercy. Dessert was a lemon cheesecake. It looked simple, but it tasted wonderful. Muriel almost forgot about her lack of confidence. Just when she was about to have her final bite, the butler came to her with two lower servants on each side of him. The servants had covered bowls of what was likely more food, which was confusing since the meal was practically done. The butler said very solemnly, as if he was giving the women important news, "His Highness has requested that the cooks s

Prince Vidar had sent a message with a funny little request. He asked Muriel to wear one of her nicest and frothiest outfits, jewelry and all, even if the gown wasn't properly colored for the autumn season. She could always put a fur stole around herself if she was cold, anyway. Muriel put on a gown of an intense raspberry red color. There were swirling, looped curls stitched in a white geometric pattern over the edges of the robe part of the gown, along with lace borders. In the back, hanging from the shoulders and trailing down, there was an extra "sack-like" panel of fabric with subtle pleats, giving the dress a mildly distinguished look. There was a small pattern of ruffles on the underskirt, along with little white fabric roses in rows. Below the lace that came from her sleeves, there were matching bracelets of more lace and simple white ribbons. Her low neckline made room for two necklaces, a lace choker and a low hanging strand of fal

"Your Highness, you might as well have told me that you like or dislike winter. This information hasn't harmed me, but it doesn't have much weight in it." That last bit was a lie. Muriel did like that he thought she was beautiful. "I ... I'm sorry?" "Lately, compliments towards my appearance have been as common as soil, and much easier to produce." "Oh, I suppose you're right ... but what I mean is ... Miss ...?" Muriel shook her head a little and said, "Oh Your Highness, I do love these conversations, but I wish you'd be swift and direct. "I wish I could touch you!" "Oh." Muriel's belly felt like it was curdling, but she thought she needed to pretend she wasn't affected. "I didn't know you were unable to touch me." She even faked a small chuckle. "You could slap me quite easily." Sudden ... smooth warmth, it made Muriel gasp.&nbs

The distant piano music drifted along as Muriel fidgeted with a lock of her hair. She was supposed to be embroidering a basket of fruits into some tight fabric, but she couldn't focus well. Her mind had been battling with itself all morning and most of last night. She hadn't slept well. Nothing about her seemed different, nothing at all, aside from the mark. But something had clearly changed, otherwise the mark wouldn't be there. So what was it? What did a fairy do to her? Who was the fairy? Why was this done? "Muriel?" "Hm?" "Muriel!" "Oh?! Your Highness?" Muriel looked up at the princess. "How may I serve you?" Princess Arya's needle was in the air, a long string of a rich blue trailing down to her fabric. "You're quite unbalanced this morning. Would you fancy a cup of green tea?" "That ... that

She wasn't wearing a tight corset. She had on quilted jumps and a loose shirt over that. She felt terribly under dressed as Doctor Bergson walked her to Prince Vidar's quarters. If he took any offense over her attire, however, then he didn't show it. Inside the Empty Room, Muriel sat down on the couch and enjoyed the glowing fireplace. Her snack consisted of crispy curled wafers filled with fruit. Her beverage was water lightly flavored by flower petals. She bent down and slowly, revealing only an inch at a time, pulled her skirts up to her knees. Then she pushed her expensive little shoes away from her feet. She crossed her legs rather flamboyantly, and she untied one of her garters. At first, as she rolled the stocking away, her leg was cooled by the air, but the fire lulled the flesh. When that was was bare, she crossed her legs in the opposite manner and repeated her steps with the other limb. With her legs indecentl