Earning the Love of a Princess-Chapter 132: Power of the Crown

Camilla responded with a wan smile but still looked troubled.

"Come now." William studied her with curiosity. "Did you really think our marriage would be the solution to hundreds of years of war between our countries?"

Camilla huffed, "No, of course not! I’m not that naive. I just hoped that it wouldn’t be the reason for conflict either. I hoped it would buy us a little additional time of peace."

"It has." William took her hand in his. "King Edward’s spies confirmed your uncle had been quietly building up his forces along the border, within the Arandar Valley, since the beginning of spring. We believe the only reason he didn’t start attacking in April was because of the heavy rains that month." 𝑓𝑟ℯ𝘦𝓌𝘦𝘣𝑛𝑜𝓋𝑒𝓁.𝑐ℴ𝓂

Camilla looked startled. "I never knew...about any of that."

"I didn’t see any point telling you. It’s not like you could’ve done anything to stop him. Besides," William gave her a lopsided smile, "you and I weren’t exactly on the best of terms that month. Kenneth’s forces were poised to advance in May, but then our betrothal was announced and he was forced to retreat as negotiations got underway. He’ll keep up the appearance of peace for the rest of the summer at least and once the weather starts cooling, it’s too late for him to start a campaign. Because of our union, he’ll have to wait until next spring at the earliest to attack."

Camilla continued to frown. "That hardly sounds like a victory."

"Your helping us add one more year of peace to an alliance already a decade old? That’s not a bad thing at all, my girl."

"If there’s conflict with Moraigth, whenever it happens, you’ll be dragged into it. Your uncle will want you to help lead any campaign, won’t he?"

William looked down at her hand, marveling at how delicate it was compared to his. "I expect so, yes. Does that bother you?"

"Of course it bothers me! I don’t like the idea of being separated from you for months on end, not knowing whether you’re dead or alive!"

"That’s the life of a knight you’re describing. Unless you want to marry a farmer...or a very old man, this was always going to be the case." William was flattered but also a little bemused by her worry. He tried to distract her by picking up a necklace and laying it against her collarbones, the rich green colour of the gems flattering her skin tone.

"Your mother seems to have had a liking for emeralds."

"Yes, they were her favourite." Camilla brushed her fingertips across the necklace, distracted. Then she murmured softly, "Why does happiness have to be such a fragile thing? When I was very young, I took it for granted that one happy day would be followed by another. But as you age, you realise how rare that is."

William’s laugh was wistful. "I think you were a fortunate child to expect that days of happiness would just follow each other." His expression hardened. "But if I have to face King Kenneth in battle as the price for marrying you, then I’ll do so."

William pushed aside the tray of food and taking care not to brush Camilla’s bandaged ankle, he lay his head on her lap. He smiled up at her. "Your lap is as comfortable as I thought it would be."

She ran her fingers through his hair, gently pushing it back from his eyes. "Are you telling me that you used to imagine lying in my lap? You expect me to believe that?"

"Yes, it’s true. No, I don’t expect you to believe it." William closed his eyes, remembering how confusing and uncomfortable it had been to gradually realised he craved care and warmth from a woman, not just passion. It seemed a long time ago now.

"Who would have imagined such complicated thoughts lurked behind your sulky face?" William felt soft fingers tracing his jaw and the outline of his lips.

"Was I really that bad?" William opened his eyes, feeling himself being pleasantly lulled to sleep by her touch.

"Yes, you were the grumpiest, most impossible man in the whole of Islia. Lucky for you, you’re also stunningly fair when you sulk."

- - -

William sat up abruptly at the sound of something rustling nearby. Looking around dazed, he saw it was one of the maids removing the tray of half eaten food. The woman’s face was pinched with disapproval at seeing the two of them on the bed.

William glared at her briefly before jerking his head in the direction of the door. He lay back down on Camilla’s lap. "How long was I asleep?"

"Not long at all. I didn’t want to disturb you." Camilla looked down at him. "Go back to sleep if you like."

William yawned. "Why do you look so sad? I have no appetite for war with Moraigth either, but it’ll be no different from any other campaign. And I’ve always been lucky on the battlefield to date."

Camilla hesitated, then started to speak very quietly.

"During every summer I was forced to spend at my uncle’s court, I rarely saw him outside of mealtimes. I was usually under the queen’s eye. The exception was the third calendar day of every month, which was designated as the Day of Royal Judgement. My brothers and I had to sit in the largest reception hall and watch as various subjects would present their petitions to the king and he would issue rulings.

"My uncle said he did it so his people could benefit more closely from their king’s wisdom. But I didn’t understand how anyone benefited because my uncle seemed to turn down every petition or request submitted. Anyone accused of a crime was almost always found guilty."

William couldn’t understand the link between her story and the upcoming campaign. "Why did he make you sit through this? To merely flaunt his power?"

"I suppose. It went on for hours though. One day, my uncle caught me nodding off from boredom. He had been hearing the case of a man accused of poaching game from one of the royal forests. He told me the man would pay for my lack of attention."

"Was the accused innocent?"

"I doubt it." Camilla said. "Poaching was common. My own father punished it, but he was usually fairly lenient."

"So what happened to this man?" William deduced it wasn’t anything good, by Camilla’s troubled expression.

"He was taken to the training grounds by the royal guards. He screamed and pleaded the entire way. My brothers and I were ordered to follow, my uncle saying these were the consequences of my failing to pay adequate attention during the dispensing of royal judgement."

William stared up at her quietly, a sinking feeling building in his belly.

"I tried to turn away but my uncle said if I did, he’d simply do the same with another criminal, until I learned to truly appreciate the power of his crown. So I had to watch, without making a sound. The man had each of his limbs tied to the king’s four favourite racehorses and was pulled apart limb from limb. His screams haunted me for a long time after that."

William flinched in disgust. "That seems excessive punishment for poaching. How old were you when you were forced to watch?"

"Seven."

He sat up bolt upright, shocked to his core. "What? Are you telling me he made a seven year old child watch that monstrosity? A girl, no less?"

"My brothers and I never told our parents what we saw. There was no point - and my mother was deathly ill when we returned from court that summer. That kind of news might have killed her." Camilla smiled nervously. "You can say that on and off since then, I’ve struggled to sleep well. For a long time, I felt guilty about that man’s death. And I still think about him. What if he only stole because his family was starving? If I hadn’t nodded off during his judgement, would my uncle have been less vicious?"

William cupped her stricken face on his hands. "You can’t think like that, and you can’t blame yourself for it. No child should ever have been forced to watch something so terrible. Your uncle is a beast."

"That’s precisely my point. Do you think I want you facing such a beast in war, especially over me? My uncle...he has no control over his impulses and no one can hold him to account. I’m not saying a king doesn’t have to make hard or unpopular decisions - of course he does. But my uncle makes his decisions because he enjoys watching the suffering of others. He has no morals. If he treats his own subjects without mercy, how do you think he’ll treat you in a battle?"

It wasn’t until that moment that William truly appreciated the dark side to Camilla’s life in Moraigth. Her existence before Islia had always seemed so charmed in his eyes, as the beloved daughter of a rich, popular prince.

As her husband, it would be up to him to protect her to the best of his ability.

As he wrapped her in his arms and let her drop her head to his shoulder with a long sigh, William prayed silently that if conflict couldn’t be avoided with King Kenneth, that they’d end up on the right side of the battle.