Earning the Love of a Princess-Chapter 106: Preferences

17 May, 1359. Westerhaven Palace, Islia

Sitting under Princess Blanche’s raised silk pavilion, Camilla watched the restless spectators around the jousting arena. It was certainly a change from last year’s springtime jousts, where she’d sat as a complete interloper. This year, she was on the cusp of joining the Islian royal family.

And yet, some things stay the same, she mused. In a repeat of the previous year, Blanche was the only princess who would ever dream of inviting Camilla into her pavilion as an honoured guest.

She shrugged, too content to let the opinion of other royal ladies bother her. She liked being in Blanche’s company.

Camilla saw William cantering towards the pavilion on his chestnut coloured stallion. Several of the ladies in the tent started preening and whispering to each other as they watched him approach. Ignoring them all, he expertly manoeuvred his horse next to where Camilla stood and removed his helmet.

"A favour of yours, if it pleases you, my lady." William grinned playfully up at her as he pushed the hair out of his eyes.

Camilla could feel several pairs of jealous eyes upon her and she couldn’t even blame them. Her own breath often caught in her throat when she looked at the stunning young man. She leant over the edge of the pavilion slightly and untied the green silk sash under her bust.

"Yes but I’m quite surprised you’re asking me, my lord. Don’t your preferences usually run to fair haired ladies?"

She heard several ladies behind her gasp.

William heard them as well, giving Camilla a slow, dangerous smile. "I occasionally make exceptions to my rule." He deftly caught the sash as it dropped from her hand and tucked it under his breastplate. He then reached up and took her hand to kiss the back of it. The crowd cheered at the chivalrous display.

"If I catch you giving your favour to any other man, there will be hell to pay."

Camilla shook her head and laughed at the possessive tone of his voice. Kissing her hand one last time and making no attempt to disguise his gaze on her low cut bodice, William pulled on his helmet and cantered away.

Camilla took her seat again next to Princess Blanche, who glanced knowingly at Camilla from above the edge of the embroidered fan in her hand.

"If that silly youth had simply acted on his instincts earlier, the two of you could have been married months ago." the elder princess murmured.

Camilla raised her eyebrows. "I don’t understand."

Blanche smiled, her big blue eyes serene. "I remember how rude Prince William was to you at one of the jousts last year. Surely you remember too?"

How could I forget, thought Camilla?

"If William had just acknowledged his feelings back then instead of trying to wound you like a petulant child, things would’ve progressed more quickly." Blanche gave a tiny shrug.

"W-w-wait! Are you saying...way back then...you knew?"

"That the prince yearned for you even then? Oh yes."

"But you...didn’t say anything." Camilla could barely believe what she was hearing.

"It wasn’t my place to say anything." Blanche’s voice was soft but her expression was sly, a contrast to her usual gentle smile. "Besides, William wouldn’t have listened to me even if I had. That’s the nature of men, my dear. They’ll only believe in an idea that they came up with themselves, even if takes them five times as long to get there."

Camilla gleamed at her for a moment, then the two ladies laughed.

Camilla mulled over Blanche’s words. She wouldn’t have been ready then, even if she’d known. A year ago she was too fragile, grieving the very fresh loss of her family and resentful of being stuck in Islia. She wouldn’t have been able to accept William then.

Still, there was comfort in knowing that someone had been thinking of her, even in a moment she’d thought herself completely alone.

- - -

The joust itself was a brutal and spectacularly noisy affair. The crowd roared in appreciation but Camilla felt stiff with anxiety. She had always enjoyed the pomp and ceremony that was part of a tournament but not so much the jousting itself. It had made her nervous enough when her brothers had taken part. But watching William repeatedly charging in with his typical fierce abandon, left her almost paralysed with fear.

She forced herself to watch with her heart in her throat, silently praying he’d curb his recklessness. But as she watched him unseat three different men, she knew he’d never change his approach. Every time he pulled off his helmet to shake hands with an opponent or help a fallen man rise from the dirt, Camilla would see the smile of a man thoroughly enjoying himself. The crowd loved it.

Asking him to try and be at least a little more careful would be pointless. He might even find it insulting. Camilla knew William was the type of man to throw himself wholeheartedly into something he was passionate about. His enthusiasm was something she loved about him.

If only his passion didn’t extend to balancing a heavy wooden lance while galloping at breakneck speed, Camilla sighed.

Once the joust was over, a feast was held for the nobles in the king and queen’s enormous pavilion. The guests milled around, waiting for the knights to join them. Camilla could see the ladies in particular were waiting anxiously.

The three eldest princes entered first, along with a few high ranking knights. Camilla watched quietly as ladies flocked to congratulate them, practically jostling each other for better access.

Prince James gave the ladies a brief, polite nod before hurrying to the side of his adored wife. Rufus and Leo on the other hand, seemed to relish the attention, Leo even allowing a few ladies to pat him rather suggestively.

Discreetly scanning the room, Camilla noticed King Edward’s hard gaze on his sons. The man rarely missed anything.

William finally walked in, laughing with Prince Thomas. Both men still wore their armour but had discarded their helmets. Several ladies crowded around them, showering them with compliments.

Camilla was suddenly hesitant, unsure if she should approach him or wait for him to come see her first. All hesitation vanished when William’s eyes sought hers and he beamed, beckoning for her to join him.

He pulled off his gauntlets as she approached and gave her a gentle kiss on the forehead. Then, thinking better of it, he pulled her close again and gave her a less gentle kiss on the mouth.

The ladies present did their best to ignore Camilla, one curvaceous lady in a yellow gown going as far as trying to shimmy up to William’s side while she spoke to him. He artfully sidestepped the lady, almost causing her to lose her balance and end up sprawled face down on the ground.

Camilla tried to feel outraged that someone was flirting with her betrothed when she was literally right next to him. However, the sight of the lady almost toppling over made her start giggling uncontrollably. She desperately tried to bite down on her giggles, discreetly covering her mouth with the back of her hand.

Unfortunately, she made the fatal mistake of making eye contact with William at that precise moment. It was a lost cause. As his smile widened, she started laughing in earnest.

The lady fired a mortified glare at Camilla as she tried to reclaim her poise. Upon realising the prince wasn’t lifting a finger to help her and was close to laughing himself, she swept away in a huff.

"Such a shame Sir Richard Bentworth isn’t here at court these days to challenge you, Your Grace." another lady cooed, trying to seize William’s attention where her friend had failed. "The battles between the two of you are legendary."

Camilla wondered if she was the only one who noticed the shadow that flitted across William’s face. His eyes flashed and the briefest of scowls marred his features before his smile quickly returned.

"Who knows what duels the future might hold?" William murmured blandly.

Camilla had seen several past jousts between William and Richard and they had been terrifying. The two of them had charged at each other with unyielding ferocity, yet had helped each other off the ground and clapped each other’s backs immediately after, laughing easily like the greatest of friends.

It would be far different if they crossed paths now. She remembered the outright viciousness that had flared between the two men, that final night in her bedchamber.

"My darling, the greatest of hate is often born from the greatest of loves." Camilla remembered her mother telling her, many years ago.

The turn of phrase suddenly made sense.

Camilla reached out and took William’s hand, stroking the back of it with her thumb in an effort to soothe him. He eventually took a deep breath and slowly raised his head to smile at her. The fire in his eyes was almost gone.