Earning the Love of a Princess-Chapter 134: Ivory Silk

17 August, 1359. Magdaline Castle, Islia

Camilla was already awake before Meg and Elizabeth tiptoed into her bedchamber before sunrise, even before the maids entered. In fits of excited giggles, the two ladies-in-waiting bounced on the bed until Katerine was eventually shaken awake.

"Wake up, Katerine! Otherwise you’ll miss the entire day." Meg sang out. "The maids will be here shortly and you’ll be stuck seeing Matilda’s sour face."

Katerine groaned and pulled the blanket over her head. "Don’t remind me. That woman is only happy when she’s miserable."

"Well, serving me makes her plenty miserable." Camilla noted cheerfully.

"Are you at all nervous about today, my lady?" Elizabeth asked.

"A little. But mostly relieved. Having my uncle at court these last few weeks has been...very unpleasant, to say the least. I had no idea if this day would even come or if I’d end up back in Moraigth against my will." Camilla pursed her lips in displeasure. "To be honest, until the vows are said and the ceremony is over, I won’t trust my uncle not to do something to try and sabotage things."

"Maybe he can refrain from drinking himself into a stupor, given its a grand occasion."

Camilla laughed. "It’s a wedding, not the Second Coming. I’m not expecting miracles. So long as he doesn’t pass out on the floor or call me by my mother’s name, I think that’s the best I can hope for."

All four young women laughed, then quietened down when they heard Matilda’s shrill voice and sharp knocking at the door.

- - -

Camilla sat in the tub, knees pulled up to her chest and soaking in the fragrant water while Bonnie carefully washed her hair with rose scented soap.

"Are you afraid, my lady?" Bonnie whispered.

Camilla smiled a little and shook her head. "I’m marrying a good man. There’s nothing to really fear." No point telling the maid that the man making her the most anxious at the wedding wasn’t the groom.

"His Grace has certainly been a most ardent suitor." Matilda sniffed. "Constantly present in your rooms without the least consideration for your reputation."

"And after today, my reputation will no longer be your concern, Matilda. How ever will you occupy all your additional free time?" Camilla flashed her maid the sweetest smile she had.

Camilla then tried to imagine a William that cared about how he was perceived by others, but it was too preposterous. Instead, she ducked underwater briefly so Bonnie could start rinsing out her hair.

Her wedding gown had been carefully hung in her presence chamber the day before, to avoid it creasing and allow the maids to inspect it for any tiny flaws. It was definitely a simpler cut than what a royal Islian bride would typically wear, being fluid ivory silk, embroidered with silver and gold thread on the bodice and along the edges of the bell shaped sleeves.

After stepping out of the tub, Camilla was quiet as the maids patted her dry. A chemise was pulled over her head, followed by the wedding gown, Bonnie and Louisa adjusting it until the skirt cascaded gracefully.

Bonnie then ushered her to the dressing table and started drying and combing out her hair, setting it into loose curls down her back and dotting it with rose oil.

Finally, Meg and Katerine pinned the flower crown on her loose hair - a simple wreath of fragrant white jasmine.

"You look so beautiful, my lady. Like a forest fae." Elizabeth breathed. The other two ladies nodded, close to tears.

Camilla smiled back tremulously at all three. "Thank you, Bess. Thank you all for taking such good care of me."

As if sensing the bride needed a little time alone before the ceremony, Meg quietly ushered everyone out of the bedchamber and closed the door behind her.

Camilla sat on the edge of her bed, trying to find a sense of calm while both happiness and sadness intertwined within her heart. She realised she missed her family more desperately than ever on her wedding day. She’d never have her mother to hold her hand and whisper her wise reassurances. She’d never have her father escort her proudly down the aisle, or see her brothers good naturedly tease the groom.

William and I will have to be enough for each other, she vowed to herself as she took slow, deep breaths to steady herself.

Matilda’s voice drifted over a knock at the door. "Your Grace, His Majesty has arrived!" 𝗳𝚛𝗲𝕖𝚠𝚎𝚋𝗻𝗼𝕧𝗲𝐥.𝚌𝚘𝐦

"Just a minute!" Camilla quickly blinked back the tears that were threatening.

"But Your Grace-"

"I said, just a minute!" Camilla snapped back, then started laughing despite herself. Something about her tone reminded her of how William would snarl when his patience ran out. He had already started to influence her, and she him, whether she liked it or not.

Camilla recalled something he’d said weeks ago - that they had all of their lives to get to know each other.

All of their lives. The thought made her smile. And as she walked out of her bedchamber, she felt far less lonely than when she’d entered it.

Camilla bowed to her uncle, who was dressed in his elaborate formal robes, and gave him a polite smile. Kenneth looked her up and down, grimacing. She wasn’t sure who he was seeing - her or her mother - but it didn’t matter. Camilla felt like a bird whose cage was about to be opened.

"Ready?" he bit out.

"Ready." she all but beamed.

Without a further word, the king turned on his heel and motioned for her to follow him to the chapel. This time, she followed him willingly.

- - -

Walking down the aisle on her uncle’s arm was an overwhelming blur, especially for someone who preferred to shun being the centre of attention. Camilla found herself floating untethered in what seemed like a never ending sea of faces - it felt like the entire Islian court was crammed inside the royal chapel. A little to the side, she saw the queen giving her a comforting smile. Camilla tried to smile back though she wasn’t sure she was entirely successful - perhaps she only managed to blink helplessly.

She saw William standing at the altar, pale with nerves and staring at her wide eyed as she drew ever closer. He was dressed in very dark teal, which somehow made his fair haired beauty appear even more striking than usual. A princely circlet of gold sat upon his head.

Camilla inwardly berated herself for not choosing a more elaborate wedding dress, feeling overawed by the beauty of the man in front of her. Then again, she told herself, he looked anxious too.

William held out a slightly trembling hand to her and she took it, eager to remove her arm from her uncle’s grip. They faced each other in front of the priest as the wedding guests took their seats again.

Camilla swallowed, trying to ease the lump that she could feel forming in her throat. She could barely bring herself to meet William’s piercing gaze. All the calm she’d been striving for, abandoned her completely as the blood pounded in her ears.

And then suddenly, William grinned at her. In front of the kings, the court and one very old and stern looking priest. For Camilla, it was like seeing the sun emerging from behind the clouds.

His smile was the one he saved only for her - affection, amusement and desire all rolled into one. She wanted to melt into a little puddle. Instead, she grinned back.

The priest gave them both a murderous look, clearly unhappy with their lack of solemnity. The congregation on the other hand, started to smile and murmur behind their hands. It was very rare that in a marriage between royal houses, the bride and groom showed such evident pleasure in each other.

Glaring at both of them, the elderly priest started his sermon in a monotone. Camilla barely heard a word he said. She paid no attention to the pomp and ceremony around them - the obscene jewels and fur of the nobility, the scent of the finest incense on the continent, the hard gazes of the two kings awkwardly sitting side by side under a golden canopy and pretending to be friends.

In that moment, it didn’t matter to Camilla who their families were or what their union meant for their respective countries. She just stood there, hands linked and staring up at the young man who brought joy and colour to her days. The only one who made her want to kiss him out of love and yet choke him out of frustration.

Even if he’d been a dirt poor farmer or a labourer, even if their union wrought war over their heads, she knew he was the only one she’d ever want to marry.

Camilla had to blink back tears again, wondering if she truly deserved such happiness.

Much to her chagrin, William winked at her while she recited her vows, clearly unable to suppress his reckless streak.

She laughed. The priest almost choked on his outrage.