Earning the Love of a Princess-Chapter 107: Outrun Your Troubles

30 May, 1359. Westerhaven Palace, Islia

The month continued in a blur of jousts, picnics and lively dinners to celebrate another spring. The weather was beautiful and the entire court seemed in high spirits. Even Queen Celia seemed to have regained some of her previous vigour and was amongst the activity, organising and attending events with enthusiasm. Her youngest boy was getting married and it would be a love match, she’d tell anyone who listened. It was to be a spring and summer full of merriment.

The only one who didn’t seem to be embracing the merriment much was the groom-to-be. As the days ticked by, Camilla saw William become more and more withdrawn. He still took part in all events as expected of a prince and a future groom but his genuine smiles became less and less frequent, as if he were just going through the motions. He didn’t even seem to be enjoying the jousts very much, striking down his opponents with practiced, brutal efficiency but little of his previous joy.

At almost every joust, someone would inevitably mention Sir Richard Bentworth and comment what a great shame he wasn’t still at court to challenge the prince with the lance, much to Camilla’s dismay. She would grit her teeth at every innocent mention, watching William’s face turn darker and darker, his smiles more brittle.

In the rare, short moments the two of them were able to snatch together away from the crowds, he was still his sweet and affectionate self with her. Still, Camilla could see his mood growing heavier by the day.

He refused to speak to her about what was on his mind, much to her frustration. Every time she asked he would lightly brush her off, insisting everything was fine or that he was just a little tired from the jousting and all the celebrations.

"There’s nothing for you to worry about, pretty girl." William would reassure her constantly, him always trying to sneak hot kisses whenever they would find themselves alone. There were moments when Camilla was sorely tempted to believe him.

Instead, she grew more and more worried for him as the days began to blur into one. Camilla knew William kept his emotions on a very tight rein, having trained himself over the years to not let himself feel much. She didn’t take offence at it, knowing it was nothing to do with her - being merely a protective mechanism stemming from his harsh upbringing.

But no one could keep carrying on as if everything was fine. His troubles would eventually catch up with him and when they did, who knew how things would end?

That night, William didn’t meet her outside her apartments to walk to the banquet hall together. He instead sent one of his pages with a message that he was running a little late and that she was to head into dinner without him.

Camilla felt her stomach drop with apprehension. Ever since the day they had been betrothed, William and her had walked to the banquet hall together. It was their chance to fill each other in on the day’s events. She never tired of feeling her hand clasped in his warm, strong grip.

That night however, Camilla had no choice but to head into dinner with only her ladies accompanying her. When she entered the great hall and performed her bows before Their Majesties, two pairs of very surprised eyes stared back at her.

"Where’s my nephew?" barked King Edward, clearly irritated. "It’s unlike him to miss the evening meal."

"He should be here very soon, Your Majesty. He sent me a message that he’ll join us shortly." Camilla tried to smile serenely but felt her back become damp with nervous sweat.

"Yes, but where is he now?" the king’s eyes were full of suspicion as they raked across Camilla’s face, taking in her bewildered expression.

"I don’t know for sure..." Feeling her face turn hot, Camilla looked away and took her seat.

The dinner progressed at a painfully slow pace. Dish after dish was presented to her but she chewed without tasting any flavour at all. Her belly contracted painfully with each bite. She would rather not have eaten at all but wanted to avoid further drawing the king’s hawk like glare. There was still no sight of William.

Camilla anxiously looked at the empty seat next to her for what felt like the thousandth time. She had no idea where he’d be or even where to start looking. He might not even be in the castle anymore.

The main dinner courses were finally retired and the servants brought in sweet wine and fruit. Camilla slowly sipped the wine the king was so fond of but she found cloying. She made polite conversation with Prince James and Princess Blanche, acting as if she had not a care in the world.

What if William’s not alone? A small voice whispered in her mind, voicing her insecurities. What if he’s still seeking the company of other ladies behind your back? She tried to squelch the thought, not wanting to panic over something that might not even prove to be true.

At last, Camilla’s self control snapped. She had to know where William had gone, to at least know he hadn’t done anything reckless and come to any harm.

Discreetly scanning the room, she saw a young boy dressed in the red and black livery of the personal servants that served the men of the royal family directly. She recognised this boy as one of William’s younger pages.

Camilla waited until the musicians had started playing and the dancers were crowding the floor. Rising from her seat, she strolled languidly across the hall as if she were going to approach her ladies-in-waiting at their table. As she passed the young page, she subtly gestured for him to come speak to her.

The boy couldn’t have been more than twelve summers old, but clearly already adept at reading the subtle hints and duplicitous gestures that were commonly used to communicate within the court.

"Your Grace," he whispered as he stood beside her without raising his eyes from the floor.

She retrieved a silver coin from her gown pocket and slid it into the page’s palm. "I need to know where Prince William is. There’s another coin for you if you return to me with a confirmed location."

The boy gave a slight nod, then nimbly slipped out of the banquet hall. All she could do now was wait and hope that when he returned with an answer, it wouldn’t be something she’d regret finding out.

After what felt like hours of waiting, the page approached Camilla at the table where she sat in conversation with Elizabeth and her husband, Lord Archibald. Ducking his head near her ear, the boy murmured, "Your Grace, the prince is in one of the small drawing rooms that branches off from His Majesty’s library. It seems he has been there for a while."

Camilla nodded as if disinterested, while the blood roared in her ears. "Is he alone?" 𝓯𝙧𝓮𝓮𝒘𝓮𝙗𝙣𝒐𝒗𝒆𝓵.𝓬𝓸𝒎

"No, my lady." the lad whispered.

Camilla closed her eyes briefly, feeling as if she’d been stabbed in the heart. What was she supposed to do now? Could she bring herself to turn a blind eye, like countless royal and noble women had done before her?

"He’s with Sir Francis Lowell and Sir Robin Sainsbury. It seems the three of them have been together the entire time. No one else has been allowed to enter the room, by express orders of His Grace."

Camilla swallowed, feeling almost faint with relief from the unexpected revelation. "Lead me there now. You’ll have your coin when we reach the room."

With a smile, Camilla excused herself from Lord and Lady Taunsen, claiming to be ready to retire for the night.

"Do you wish me to walk with you, my lady?" Elizabeth asked.

"No, don’t trouble yourself, Bess." Camilla’s tone was reassuring. "Enjoy the evening and dance with your husband. This page can see me to my rooms instead."

Camilla led the page out at a leisurely pace. Once they had stepped out of the banquet hall and into the corridor, she turned to the boy. "Hurry and take me to where Prince William is, understood?"

The boy nodded and scampered through the corridors and up the central staircase until they reached the library. Camilla clutched the hem of her skirt in her fists and raced to keep up with him.

The library felt almost sinister so late in the night. Carrying a torch, the page lead her through a maze of bookshelves until they reached a small door at the back of the room, almost hidden by the shadows of the roof beams.

The page slowly and silently opened the door and Camilla peered inside the small drawing room, which was warm and cozy from the fire in the stone fireplace.

She saw William with a gilded cup in his hand and his back almost to her, sprawled in an armchair that had been dragged to face the fireplace. She could tell from the slump of his body that he’d already had plenty to drink. Her knees went weak with relief at seeing him unharmed.