• Pachinko Eyes

    Everybody has them, these pair. They do not operate on all their subjects in the same manner, and they rarely malfunction with regard to the object of their interest. They are pretty much a whole different set of eyes the body rolls into place in the presence of specific individuals.

    These are the famous cursed eyes the women of our family have been burdened with, generation after generation.

    Alas, this story does not involve my own set, or those of my family or friends.

    This is a story spinning the events of the Pachinko eyes of a prince, from a land to where you have never been, and a princess dear to my heart, but whom you have never seen. I myself rarely see her, and have never been introduced to the prince.

    But beware. This is not a tale of passionate love and endless drama. It is the story of a beautiful princess, and her Pachinko-eyed prince.

    ------------------------------

    “She’ll have you if you agree to it,” the king’s voice echoed strongly, making his son wince.

    “If she is so beautiful, I don’t think I need to travel all the way to the neighboring country to do that,” said the fairly-handsome prince matter-of-factly.

    The most beautiful woman in the world wished to be his bride, as fate would have it. He only had to meet with her and approve. And though he knew beauty was not everything, he also knew if she were as beautiful as everyone said, he would not refuse her.

    “This was the princess’s only condition. Consider yourself lucky,” his father, the King of Galax, said with a huff, the sound echoing in the larger-than-necessary throne room. “You’re not exactly remarkable, as far as princes go.”

    His son frowned, pulling a hand through his dark hair in frustration. “Not the most encouraging words a father should give his child, don’t you think?”

    “I am not prone to lies, as you know. You are a good man, I’ll admit. But you are no rare catch. I expect she wishes to inspect you as well.” The king scratched his head thoughtfully, drumming his fingers on the armrest of his throne. “Although she was the one to urge her mother to suggest the match. I never would have thought to try marrying you to her myself.”

    “Because I‘m not remarkable,” the prince said darkly, perched on his chair at his father’s side.

    “Exactly.”

    -------------------------------

    It was clean, her kingdom, the prince noted grudgingly while he drove his expensive car through smooth, cobbled streets. Buildings were a mixture of old and new, but all were well tended to. Street lamps were everywhere, plenty of them carrying attractive shop signs. LORD OF SUGAR ICE-CREAM PARLOR, TEARS FITNESS CENTER, TROLLY SUPERMARKET, he read as he passed them.

    On one of the main roads -with QUEENS in a big, bold lettered sign- he found the most extravagant shops, likely with prices even he would find hard to swallow. The most colorful of them TITANIA BEGONIA FLOWER SHOP. The block even boasted a public library: PACHINKO PUBLIC LIBRARY number 4. He was impressed. There were at least four libraries in such a small place!

    The Kingdome of Pachinko was prosperous indeed. And many corners, he found, sported the queen’s photo or portrait. She was lovely, yes, but he could not imagine any daughter of hers being the most beautiful of all. COBBLED STREET the first, he noticed the sign, relieved. He was close.

    The royal palace floated into sight, as grand and exquisitely designed as the rest of the kingdom had lead him to expect. Unlike his own, classically designed home with its triangular domes, this palace had oval ones. They were made from smooth, crimson cat-eye stone that glinted beautifully in the violet and yellow spotlights below.

    The golden, spiraling gates opened long before he came close, and a flurry of synchronized drums and trumpets sang his greeting upon his entry. He stopped in the wide driveway and gave his keys to a crisply dressed valet, who had popped up next to him when he dismounted.

    He gasped as his eyes lay upon the most stunning woman he had ever, or will ever, see. The life-sized painting on the entrance door to the palace had a lifelike portrait of the lovely queen, and next to her a vision of dazzling beauty. He had guessed, oh, so wrongly. Long, auburn tresses, deep violet eyes, and skin fair as a white dove. But the remarkably put-together face was what robbed him of breath.

    He approved! More than anyone on this earth could possibly imagine. He would probably be glad to marry the painting!

    The doors opened slowly, and he ignored the unexpected wash of disappointment as the painting slid out of sight, and the queen herself stepped outside. They exchanged greetings as she welcomed him into her home.

    “My daughter, princess Briar,” the older woman sighed, gesturing toward a lady in a white mask just behind her. “I’m certain you’ll get along.”

    It was all the prince could do not to gape. Had he been duped? Why would the most beautiful woman in existence hide her face behind such a colorless, faceless mask?

    Maybe he would end up marrying the painting after all.

    (research how to address royalty)

    -----------------

    Dinner was extravagant, and satisfying. The woman in the mask was not. She never said a word past the nod of acknowledgement earlier, and he was starting to think the entire most-beautiful-woman thing was an elaborate scheme of his father’s to marry him off.

    “I’ll leave you two alone,” the queen said graciously, rising from her seat at the foot of the long table. “My daughter never speaks to young men when I’m present, unfortunately. So I must be off if the both of you are ever going to get acquainted.”

    “You’re very kind,” he said evenly, masking his confusion. Why on earth was that!? How many other men had come to marry her, exactly?

    “It’s not what you believe.”

    His head snapped in the princess’s direction. “I beg your pardon?” he asked softly, wondering if she’d read his mind.

    “I could tell you’d misunderstood what my mother said. None of the young men who come to visit were here to marry me. I’m sorry, you must think I’m very strange, keeping silent for so long,” she added.

    She had a throaty, beautiful voice, he noted in amazement. “Not at all!” He smiled, his golden-brown eyes softening. Her mask made it impossible to tell what she was feeling, and he had to focus on her tone of voice. “I’d just been wondering why you wouldn’t speak before.”

    “My mother is very sensitive about the subject of my marriage. She would not have responded well.”

    He didn’t quite understand what that had to do with it, but he nodded in understanding anyway.

    “Your father the king did tell you of my proposal?” she asked directly.

    “Yes. I was honored to be the subject of your interest.”

    “Oh, it had nothing to do with me. That sort of thing is always prearranged,” she said with the same directness, and he flinched at the words. It sounded like she was forced into it, yet from her earlier statement it also seemed she’d been the one to suggest the match.

    “I suppose,” he acquiesced uncertainly, feeling annoyed; nothing was as he’d imagined. He picked up the napkin from his lap and wiped his mouth. “Why me, then?”

    “Because I’ve seen you before, and I knew you were the only one who could see me.”

    The napkin dropped from his stiff fingers and he stared at her in shock. “I’m sorry?” He was fairly sure he’d never seen her in his life! And such strange words. He heard her chuckle softly and frowned, too confused at the entire situation to manage at anger just yet. Is she playing with me?

    “I dreamt of you, you see. I know it sounds insane, and it seemed so to me as well. But here you are, real as the moon and stars. yet I’ve never seen you before. Not while I was conscious,” she added, and he heard the smile in her voice, but no sarcasm or deception.

    “You’ve seen me,” he went along warily. “Why can’t I see you?” The mask went all the way around her head, even her hair concealed. It hadn’t the slightest design, not even the classical smiling-sad face of the theater. It was a white blank, and it irritated him.

    She sighed. “Because, Prince of Galax, you have the Pachinko eyes I’ve always longed to find. And so it is far too early for that.”

    That smile was still in her voice, except now it was sad. “I beg your pardon?” he said with a touch of anger. “Please speak more clearly.”

    “If I do that I’d be giving you the answers. But it is no game, believe me. I don’t find this situation enjoyable either.”

    “Then you should not have wasted my time, Princess,” he said decisively, rising. “If you’ll excuse me, I believe I’ll return home. It has been very nice meeting you however. Please, do come visit us again.”

    “Wait! I’m sorry. I have not spoken to anyone about this in a long time, I’ve forgotten how strange it can sound.” She rose as well and ran after him, her long, sky-blue evening gown trailing behind her. “Please stay. I promise you will see me by the end of the week. I simply want to know you better before you do. In my experience, my looks can be very distracting.”

    He glanced at the fair hand at his sleeve and sighed. She sounded genuinely abashed and repentant. “I’ve seen the painting, and I suppose I understand why you must.” Although he doubted the bit about the dream and eyes.

    “Well, please forget you have,” she said authoritatively, referring to the painting, the confidence returning to her voice.

    He nodded, his own smile returning as he felt her relax against his arm. What a strange woman. Was she aiming for love? She was beautiful, why would she even need to assure herself their personalities matched? Any man who saw what he had would fall head over heels, and stay that way.

    ----------------------------

    The incessant bustling outside his suite woke him earlier than he had planned, the sound of several vacuum cleaners rumbling beyond his door. He dressed quickly and marched out of his room, going past maids furiously dusting at something or other, and men and women in business suits talking enthusiastically into their mobile phones, inside their respective and many offices along the massive hall.

    He was outside at the front driveway at last, where it was quiet and peaceful –but for the lawnmower growling somewhere out of sight. He sighed tiredly, pulling out his own cell phone from the inside of his jacket and flipping it open. It was a good time to call his father and tell him of the goings-on. And demand an explanation for the extreme lack of information –a.k.a warnings- on his prospective bride.

    After the second ring, his father picked up.

    “You behaved well, I hope?” was his immediate greeting.

    “Of course,” the prince breathed out, barely keeping from rolling his eyes. “You failed to mention the princess was insane, but I managed quite well. Her mother is another story altogether, however.”

    “Don’t call your future fiancé insane, son. And what is this about the mother?”

    “The queen. She is nice enough, to be honest, but once I’m in her presence for more than ten minutes, she begins to weep uncontrollably.”

    “Naturally,” the king said evenly. “I would weep as well if my daughter were to marry a prince with your credentials.”

    “Who’s side are you on?” he grit out, glowering.

    “It was a joke, my boy. Did you ask her why she was so sad?”

    “I wish I hadn’t. She said she was afraid I would not be like her husband. What man wants to remind his bride of her father?”

    “Maybe she meant it in way of character or kindness,” the king suggested, a note of boredom creeping into his voice. “Is there anything more? I have an important internet conference with my ambassadors in a few minutes.”

    “Only that I’m not certain this beauty is who she says she is,” he said lowly.

    “Oh, but I’ve seen her. Would have married her myself if she hadn’t asked for you specifically.”

    “Father! You are a married man.”

    “Yes…that too, I suppose.”

    He hung up soon after, glaring at the phone darkly. The worst of it was, his mother was no different than her remarkably unsupportive, emotionally detached husband.

    He jumped back as something whizzed past his ear. He looked to where it had gone and saw a colossally large Saint Bernard’s (the size of a tree) barely stretch his hind legs to catch the flying Frisbee.

    A child ran past him, laughing and squealing, toward the dog. He watched the boy climb up the long fur and sit on the shaggy head. The dog woofed once and the prince’s ears popped. It then bound off, creating a small earthquake.

    Prince Warren of Galax took a deep, shaky breath and headed for the parking space beside the palace, where no giants of any kind would disturb him.

    Once there he spotted the princess moving around his convertible. She had an aura of distress about her that made him wish he were back home in Galax. Where it was safe, quiet, and predictable. At least more so than it was here.

    “What is it?” He froze when he noticed the state of his beloved car.

    His dusty car.

    His windshield-less car.

    “What…happened to it?” he grit out, fists clenched tightly. He walked over, ignoring the fidgeting princess at its side. The rest of it seemed well enough. But it was now deformed!

    “I am truly sorry! I will fix it for you, I promise. You’ll never notice I blew the windshield,” she rushed wretchedly.

    “Blew the…? What on earth were you…? How did you even manage it!? It was bulletproof, for heavens sake!”

    “I…Um…It was an accident, I swear to you. Mr. Brunswick, a friend of mine, is the best mechanic anywhere. He will make it as good as new. In record time,” she added, wringing her hands at his flabbergasted expression. “I’ll take us to him right now if you like.”

    She cleared her throat at his fierce look. “Now it is, then.”

    They all but jogged along the road, and he noticed, despite his silent rage, the street signs. COBBLED STREET the first lead into the city itself. The name suited, as it was the road that lead to the palace. Just before entering COBBLED STREET the third, she stopped to address a handsome gentlemen with graying temples.

    “Good morning, Professor Oatley. Have you seen Mr. Brunswick anywhere? Prince of Galax here is my guest, and he needs his car checked,” Briar said hastily.

    Needing it ‘checked’ was the understatement of the millennium, thought the prince irritably. The woman had blown his windshield clear off!

    “Good morning, your highnesses!” he said with a light bow, clutching a single book to his side. “He went to Karmic Jewelers. An anniversary present for his wife, I’ll bet. If you can’t find him there he’s definitely gone to the Tears Fitness Center.”

    She thanked him and they moved on quickly. “The center, it’s a block away from the jewelry store, you can’t miss it!” the University professor shouted after them.

    They passed Cobbled Street the sixth before a cherry wood KARMIC JEWELERS sign hanging from a light post came into sight. There were several jewelry stores all around that very street, but Karmic’s looked the most stylish.

    “There he is. Mr. Brunswick!” She waved to an elderly man just coming out of the store with a small gift bag in his hand. It seems Prof. Oatley was spot-on.

    After a small chat, he promised to take a look at his car that afternoon, then excused himself to buy a cake for his wife from the Downtown Bakery a few blocks away. On their way back to the palace, the prince amused himself with reading street signs, finally calming down. COBBLED STREET the fifth, COBBLED STREET the fourth, COBBLED STREET the third, he read, ignoring the many folks that constantly approached them to talk to their princess.

    “What do you do back home?” she asked with a sigh, after a middle-aged lady called Mrs. Poptwinkle finally walked away.

    He paused. “Do?”

    “You know, work.”

    “Er…Well, I help my father with the public relations work outside, I suppose.”

    “…Is that all? Do you have a college degree? Have you never walked among the people?”

    “I do of course. But no, I haven’t met many of my people. I spend most of my time around the palace, or in the palaces of neighboring countries.”

    “Hmm. How dull,” she muttered, and he frowned at the condescending tone.

    “I beg your pardon? Most royalty stay with royalty, you know.”

    “Not true. Several of my royal friends do make an effort to understand the people and their needs. It seems you are just one of those who don’t care very much.”

    “I care!” he snapped, stopping to glare at the masked figure. “Such judgments are reserved for those who know what they are speaking of.”

    They both stood there in the middle of the empty road, and even though she wore a mask, he could almost see the angry sparks shooting at him.

    “I thought you helped with public relations. That was not the most political way to handle the situation,” she laughed suddenly, taking him aback.

    “I…No, you’re right. That was terrible.” He coughed in embarrassment.

    “Would you like to see my lab? It’s not too far from the palace-”

    “No! I mean, no, today was very full for me. Maybe some other time.” Maybe never. Heavens only knew what disaster she could cook up in a lab, if she could blow up his bulletproof windshield.

    “I’m a pro, I promise you. The fireworks last night were all my own making. You’ll love it, I’m sure,” she added knowingly.

    Fireworks!?

    “I’m a fireworks expert, you see. But as you’re so tired, I’ll take you to the lab tomorrow.”

    And it was no request.

    ----------------------------

    The next day was the worst and best he’d experienced in the Kingdom of Pachinko. And it started with a ‘batang’.

    They just finished breakfast when she asked him: “Are you ready for my lab? Oh, don’t worry, I’ll take you there tonight. I understand you have much to do in the day,” she said reassuringly when he choked on his espresso.

    “Yes, thank you. Are you busy this morning as well?”

    She nodded. “I’m heading to the Spot O’ Tea café. A few of my friends are having a breakfast business meeting there in an hour, and I thought I’d spend some time with them as well. But I’ll see you at lunch.”

    She wished him a nice day and excused herself, rushing off. He took the opportunity to walk by himself to the Brunswick Garage on the eighth, then happily drove his restored car back to the palace where he parked it in a spot Briar’s explosives could not easily reach.

    --------------------------------------

    Prince Warren cringed inwardly as the queen entered the dining room he was occupying that evening. She headed right for him, her puffy, frilly green dress swishing around her feet.

    “I hope you’re feeling well today, love,” she said somberly.

    “Yes, thank you. Your hospitality is overwhelming,” he said carefully, smiling as he took another sip of his espresso. “You are well, too, I hope.”

    She nodded, smiling half-heartedly. “Of course. I could only be well when…” He stiffened as she sniffed. “-such a lovely young man is staying over.”

    She hiccupped once and he shot out of his seat, grinning like a fool. “Thank goodness for that. I’ll be out in the garden for a small walk then. Fresh air, you understand.” He made a quick dash for the exit, praying she didn’t start bawling before he could get away.

    “Oh, excellent. Briar is waiting for you near the fountain,” she announced, now tears streaming down her pale cheeks. “It is what I came here to- Oh. So indulging,” she whispered tearfully to herself at the speed with which he disappeared.

    ------------------------------

    She had indeed been waiting. And to his dismay and rising panic, she dragged him across the illuminated palace garden with the additional glow of a flashlight. She was wearing a simple outfit consisting of denim pants and a pink shirt, a white leather jacket over them to ward off the night’s chill. At her request earlier that evening, his own clothes were just as simple.

    She walked with him just before the gate, then turned to the left and walked on. They kept going deeper into the darkness of the colossal garden for some minutes before she stopped, pointing ahead.

    “Right there. You see the lever?”

    He squinted until his vision adjusted. Fused with a tree to look like one of its branches, there it was indeed. But for what?

    She reached out and pulled it down easily. He stiffened as the ground trembled under his feet.

    “There,” she told him, pointing to their left. The ground a few feet away was opening, until a wide hole in the ground had been exposed. “Down that.” She took his arm and lead him just beyond the edge.

    He stared into the hole in awe. Several feet into the darkness there was…a lab? Scientific equipment, wooden boxes stacked together, powder barrels with indiscernible labels …

    “This is my lab, where I make my fireworks. I do have assistants, of course. Plenty of the boxes you see down there are ready for shipping,” she pointed.

    “You sell your work?”

    “Yes. I design fireworks as well. That is what this lab is for, experiments,” she said proudly.

    “Is that what you were doing yesterday when you mutilated my car?” he asked, deadpan.

    “Oh…Er…”

    “Why is there no roof? No, firstly, why is it underground?” he asked with interest, not waiting for her answer.

    She sighed and clasped her hands together. “It is underground for safety reasons. They are explosives after all. And with no roof just in case I’m still inside when they explode. Come with me,” she motioned to him and walked away, missing his incredulous look.

    He did follow however, stopping as she leaned down and pulled open a hidden trap door in the grassy ground. She went in and he followed suit, climbing down the short rope ladder. The tunnel they stepped into was narrow, and he had to bend in half to walk through.

    “How else do you spend your time?” he asked teasingly as they scrambled through the small tunnel and into the open space of the lab.

    “That’s mostly it, actually. You can only do one thing truly well at a time,” she said humorously, prying one of the barrels open. “I’ll show you how to create a Sparkler,” she began.

    In the process of refusing, he stepped back and toppled over one of the many barrels surrounding them. The fallen container set a few more rolling, ending up with a good portion of the chemical equipment spilling on the floor.

    “Oooh! What have you done!?” the princess breathed at him in horror, staring at the mess behind him.

    He looked back at her, shocked himself. “I’m sorry. I’ll fix them right away.”

    “That’s not it,” she snapped, making him scowl in offense.

    A low rumbling noise started, and the prince looked around in alarm. That accident couldn’t possibly have done anything, he thought. Or this place would have been in flames already.

    “Batang,” he heard her squeak in horror.

    “Batang? What’s Batang?” he asked apprehensively, then caught sight of the sparkling, foaming chemical liquids on the floor. “Can’t you stop it? You are an expert, aren’t you?” he went on, realizing what was happening.

    “I am! But nobody can stop a chemical reaction once it gets out of control. And Batang is not a good sound. I know, because I named it.”

    “It’s a sound!?”

    “My entire collection is about to explode! What a waste,” she added miserably.

    He would have growled if his jaw hadn’t been busy hitting the floor in disbelief. “You are insane,” he said with strained calm. “This is not the time to grieve your belongings.”

    “We have to get out and watch the show outside,” she scrambled ahead, ignoring him.

    He scrambled after her, hissing something unpleasant.

    Batangs were turning to hissing and churning, and finally the chamber now far behind them was whistling madly in warning.

    “Hurry! We’ll miss the show!”

    “We are about to get blown to bits and that is what worries you? And what show!?”

    She opened the trapdoor above their head as the tunnel began to shake alarmingly. The prince grit his teeth and grabbed the princess around her waist, practically flying them both out into the open night air.

    That very second, the open space of her lab several feet behind burst into flames, just as Briar said it would. A collection of red, yellow and blue lights shot up into the air and exploded in the sky beautifully, taking his breath away. Several explosions went off in the tunnel just behind them as well.

    The prince only took the time to give the impulsive princess a ‘look’ that had her shrinking slightly in his arms; it seemed an open roof was not as safe as she’d planned.

    Several blue lights shot out and burst silently, and Prince Warren gasped as the ends separated from the rest of the widening orb and made a show of slithering every which way, like they had a life of their own.

    More burst into the shape of a weeping Willow, another two drew the shape of dancing hearts, another a fan swishing open…It went on and on, and it was magnificent. The best fireworks display he had ever witnessed.

    “You are most definitely, and without a single molecule of doubt, a pro.” He could imagine her grin of satisfaction at that.

    “I knew you would come around,” she said huskily, head tilted up as she watched the display with him. He could almost swear that last burst was shaped like a blossoming rose.

    He shook his head, chuckling. They stood that way for some time, until the explosions were far in-between and the sky filled with smoke.

    “You know, they say that if you watch the fireworks with the one you love on new years, you will be together forever,” she whispered.

    “Forever? And men actually go through with it?” he asked innocently.

    Her head snapped to him, and he just knew she was glaring.

    -------------------------------

    As always, many of the citizens stopped them on the street to speak to Briar. In fact, it happened so often he requested they never walk anywhere again. They adored her, the people. And the men in particular sniveled at her feet, begging her to take off her mask and show them her lovely face once more. Even the painting at the entrance had been removed, to his own dismay.

    He still was not allowed to see her face, but in that time he learned to read her voice expertly, and gauge her moods through the slump of her shoulders or the tap of her foot. This knowledge would prove invaluable when they married. He’d already decided to go ahead with it, even if she insisted he wait until the week was out.

    A strong bond had formed between them, even without his thinking of the beauty the whole kingdom clearly missed. She was kind and warm, lively and humorous, and he could not imagine a future without her.

    “Do you love me?” he asked her over lunch, whilst her mother was otherwise engaged. His serious tone startled her, he noted shrewdly, and she stopped before her fork went under the mask.

    “I…Yes, I love you,” she admitted, with a rare note of true embarrassment and a hint of misery.

    “Then will you marry me?”

    She was silent for a long time, and he began to feel uneasy. They loved one another, didn’t they? So why was she hesitating?

    “I reserve the right to answer that until the last possible moment.”

    “You’re still uncertain about me. I understand, of course.” He didn’t like it, but she had a right to be sure if they matched. It had been just under a week since they’d met, after all. A miraculously short time for any kind of love to have developed.

    “No. I am very certain.” She sounded it, too.

    He would never meet another woman as confusing as she if he lived to be a thousand. Unless maybe they had daughters. Then confusion would be the least of his worries.

    He looked forward to tonight, when the week was over, when the marriage arrangements could be set in motion. As it is, that would take months, and they could get to know one another far more then.

    “Tonight you remove that accursed mask,” he told her in mock ferocity sometime later, tucking her arm under his elbow as they walked in the endless expanse of garden at the back of the palace.

    She nodded, and his mouth flattened when he felt her hand trembling. “What’s wrong?” he asked in concern. She shook her head slowly. “Are you worried I will not think you as beautiful as the rest of the country does? Or maybe you’re afraid I’ll forget the ‘you’ inside?”

    He heard her gasp, grinning inwardly at his own cleverness. She nodded and he pulled her closer to his side. “Your beauty I’ve seen in the painting, it took my breath away. And I would never forget that heart of yours, you silly woman.” He grinned warmly and she relaxed.

    ---------------------

    That evening he dressed just so and headed for the ballroom at the firsts floor, noting the large number of extravagantly dressed guests pouring into the palace. He may not be a remarkable prince, but he would make a dazzling proposal.

    He actually saw Mr. and Mrs. Brunswick, Mrs. Poptwinkle, and Professor Oatley, among many others he’d seen on the street. The prince greeted them and they chatted a short while before entering the ballroom.

    He was introduced to several more of the townspeople. He discovered that Oatley was not only a professor at Pachinko University, but owner of Wild Oatley Stables, the best horse breeders in the area. Brunswick was the kingdom’s best mechanic, and Poptwinkle bred the largest dogs to ever walk the earth. That gave him pause, and he just barely kept from asking if she’d given one of them to Briar.

    He also Discovered that the Five Elements High school was named after Briar’s great, great grandmother, Elements. A humble teacher, before she became the first queen of the Kingdome of Pachinko. She has the Five Elements Elementary School named after her as well, Mrs. Brunswick told him.

    And he met Titania Begonia, owner of the Titania Begonia Flower Shop on Queens. A burley woman with a wild, deafening laugh and a blindingly colorful collection of flowers on her wide-rimmed hat. He liked her very much.

    Finally the guest of honor was announced. Everyone turned to the entrance of the room where she stood, still in her mask She wore a magnificent lilac satin gown that flowed around her like a cloud. She descended elegantly down the steps, hand sliding softly over the rail as she moved. She grasped the mask in one hand and began to remove it firmly, and he heard everyone hold their breath. He chose that moment to walk up to her.

    He heard her gasp as he went down on one knee before her. Fishing out the jewelry box he’d bought at Karmic’s from his pocket, he opened it and held it out to her, careful to keep his eyes downcast.

    He heard her mask clutter to the ground and the crowd gasp in unison, but refused to look up. “Prince Warren of Galax,” he heard her gasp.

    “Will you marry me, Princess Briar of Pachinko?” he asked, clearly and confidently. “You see, I do not need to see you to be sure I want your beautiful soul for my own. Say yes, Briar. Now is the last possible moment.”

    “…You must rise. Please.”

    The near-invisible tremor in her otherwise steady voice had him looking up with a worried frown. He stiffened, his eyes impossibly wide as his other knee gave out and he collapsed on both on the marble floor. He had never seen anything like it in his entire life. Not in any royal court he’d ever been to.

    Her hair was a lovely shade of auburn, her eyes just the deep violet he’d seen in the painting. But… her skin was wrinkly, as if from age. She had terribly blemished skin, uneven eyes, a lopsided, thin-lipped mouth, and a jaw too square to belong to any normal woman. She was…ugly.

    ‘Exquisite’ and ‘Beautiful’ echoed almost deafeningly around the room, and he just could not understand it! Weren’t they seeing what he was? Were these people under some sort of spell-?

    “I’ve always been sure of you, Warren. I simply was not certain you would feel the same once your Pachinko eyes beheld me.” Her tone was sad, resigned. “You are the only one…who could truly see,” she echoed her words of their first meeting. “You understand why I did what I did. You would have gone running if I’d shown myself to you the first day.”

    He cleared his throat, head lowered, unable to keep looking at the momentous lie he’d just proposed to. “You said,” he began hoarsely and cleared his throat. “You said you saw me in a dream.”

    “I did. How would I have known to ask for you otherwise? You do not have the most impressive repertoire-” She paused at his fierce look. “You must understand, you are the only one in the world who sees me like this.” He knew she was pointing at her face. “A curse of my beauty, I believe. The man I’m destined to fall in love with…would see me as the most gruesome creature to ever walk the earth. The moment I met you this face is what I began to see as well. My beauty is a thing of the past to me now, something I see in paintings, and in the eyes of my people.” He heard her sigh, and got to his feet carefully.

    “What are you then? Which princess are you?” he asked harshly, still not ready to face her.

    She shrugged, chuckling humorlessly. “I’m not sure, and it honestly does not matter.” It was the same throaty voice he loved, but it belonged to a different person than he believed. “It is horribly cruel either way you look at it- pardon the pun.” He heard her turn away, and only then looked in her direction, surprised that she was leaving already.

    “Send my regard to your father. He is a very interesting man and I would love to meet him again soon.”

    He heard the murmurs of appreciation turn to ones of confusion and dismay as she left the room hastily.

    It hurt him. It hurt him terribly that he would never see her again, the woman he thought he knew.

    Saying quick goodbyes, he jumped into his royal-blue convertible and dashed through the gates, unwilling to think of what had just occurred. It was too huge a disappointment to contemplate so soon. The funny, lovable, spirited woman he’d fallen for was not what she claimed-

    He frowned, eyes narrowing. Maybe she had not tried to trick him, but she’d been deceitful, a liar. She should have come clean about everything.

    But then he never would have waited to hear her laugh, know her quirks, see her kindness, feel her love. I never would have waited to see her. As well she knew. And now that he has, despite the alarming vision of her, he did not want to leave.

    After precisely a minute of staring blindly ahead, he hissed under his breath and spun the wheel. His tires screamed as the car turned sharply, and raced back toward the palace.

    He got out of the car and kicked the door closed. “Briar! Come out this instant and marry me,” he bellowed, not caring if anything or anyone heard. He saw her stick her head out a window on the second level. Her face was unclear, but her wide, shocked eyes were. “I’m so sorry I left. I think I needed some minutes to think.”

    He heard her laugh weakly. “You think fast,” she told him, a smile in her voice. “I didn’t expect you so soon.”

    You didn’t expect me at all, he thought, angry at his own stupidity. “Come down,” he finished hoarsely. Her head popped back in, and she was flying out the front door so fast he stared. She stopped a small distance away, unsure.

    Her face, it looked the same. But the longer he stared, the less sloppy and deformed it seemed. He was seeing her soul, he knew. Because even though her unfortunate features remained, somehow their being hers made them inconsequential. Was that what it meant to have Pachinko Eyes?

    “You are beautiful, Briar. I don’t know how I saw you differently. I must have been blind back there.”

    Her face shone at the words and she flew into his arms, laughing. “You must have Pachinko eyes if you think I’m anything near beautiful.”

    He grinned and lifted her into his arms, ready to carry her inside as she laughed -and protested the undignified position.

    “I believe I’m beginning to understand your secret.”

    Her eyes shone up at him and she chuckled. “Our kingdom’s name comers from this very blessing-curse that befalls the females of my family,” she whispered. “My father had Pachinko Eyes, as did my grandfather, and his father, and his father. We are beautiful women, and as luck would have it, the ones we are fated to love, and who will love us truly and completely, they see us…pretty much as you see me.”

    She sighed a little sadly. “A curse, but a blessing, as it allows us –me- to be sure of our beloved’s sincerity. Forever. But that is a secret.” She put one finger to her lips, smiling her lopsided smile. “Our daughters need the secrecy, if they are ever to help their fated loved ones see them, like I was able to.”

    The prince laughed in delight, pulling her to him gently. “My lips are sealed. But exactly how many daughters do you plan for us to have? Can’t I have sons?”

    She blushed. “Of course. I have a little brother myself.”

    He paused, surprised. “I’ve not seen him.”

    “You must have. When he’s not writing stories in his room, he plays in the garden. With Squall.”

    “Squall? Another brother.”

    “Oh, heavens, no! I don’t think I can handle two of him. Squall is our dog.”

    The prince blinked. He had so hoped that scene on his first day had been a short-term hallucination. “How does he react to strangers?” he asked in a small voice.

    The audience staring in avid fascination would never know that the beautiful, laughing, violet-eyed Aphrodite in his arms was what one would consider ‘unfortunate’ looking, slightly wrinkly, and more than a little discolored. But her eyes shone with the same warmth, love, and spirit everyone could see. Because after all, the beauty that lies within is the only one everyone could agree upon. If only they took the time to glimpse it.

    There, the saying ‘Beauty is in the eye of the beholder’ simply did not apply anymore.




    END