Earning the Love of a Princess-Chapter 152: Flashback: Proof of Sin

3 August, 1355. Port Canfirth Palace, Moraigth

The shrill cries startled Camilla out of her bored reverie.

She’d been sitting cross legged on the floor of Queen Antonia’s presence chamber, helping her ladies stitch a new tapestry. Camilla loathed needlework. Especially because as the youngest and least liked of the ladies in the room, she’d been relegated to a corner of the tapestry, doomed to only be allowed to stitch an endless stretch of plain blue sky.

When the commotion broke out, Camilla perked up, hoping for at least a brief distraction. Very quickly though, she heard the fear in the screams. She set her embroidery needle aside quickly and scrambled to her feet, as did the other ladies.

The only one who remained seated was the queen herself. She merely looked up from her upholstered armchair with a glare and asked in a snappy voice, "What is all that dreadful noise?"

The screams had come from the queen’s dressing room. Camilla followed the other ladies that rushed into the space.

When she managed to step into the room, at first all Camilla could see was that backs of the women in front of her. She quietly cursed her lack of height. Luckily, the room was large and the crush in front of her started thinning out a little. Using her slight frame to her advantage, Camilla managed to squeeze herself into gaps between the older ladies and found herself close to the front of the small crowd. She looked down.

On the floor of the queen’s large, opulent dressing room, was sprawled Lady Sophia Clare, tears running down her face.

Lady Sophia was the elder sister of Lady Valerie Clare, Camilla’s only true friend at court. Unlike her younger sister though, Sophia wasn’t the least bit friendly. She was always trailing behind the queen without respite, doing everything she could to ingratiate herself to her. Even the other ladies laughed about it, calling her the queen’s little lapdog.

The queen didn’t like Camilla so Sophia didn’t like Camilla. It was as simple as that.

But now, Lady Sophia’s usually haughty expression was one of fear and pain. She was doubled over, clutching her middle. Through clenched teeth, she was muttering, "Oh lord, I’m losing it...I’m losing it...no..."

"Losing what?" Camilla looked up at the lady closest to her.

The woman looked back at her as if she were an imbecile. "Are you slow? Her baby!" she hissed back in irritation.

Camilla looked back at Sophia, completely stunned. She didn’t even know Lady Sophia was with child, but she had married fairly recently so it was quite possible.

But how exactly did one lose a baby, Camilla asked herself? Didn’t a baby just grow in their mother’s belly until it was its time to be born? Camilla assumed that had been what had happened with the four children born to her own mother, though Camilla had never actually asked for details. At any rate, her mother was long gone and she’d never dream of asking any of the queen’s ladies about such matters.

Lady Sophia’s wails dragged Camilla’s attention back to the present. She was groaning as if in pain, hands pressed to her belly.

Then Camilla saw the blood.

Blood staining the embroidered silver fabric of Sophia’s skirt. Blood slowly spreading under her and soaking into the pale, opulent rug of the dressing room floor.

"She’s bleeding!" Camilla squeaked out.

No one moved. The ladies stood stock still, just watching events unfold.

Camilla couldn’t understand it. Were they just going to stand around doing nothing? Or were they simply in shock? Glancing around their collective expressions though, Camilla didn’t see shock. Surprise, sympathy, and even hard faced acceptance on some faces but no shock.

"Isn’t someone going to help her?" Camilla shrieked, stepping closer to Sophia. She kneeled on the floor next to her, not caring if the blood on the rug ended staining her own skirt. The queen would probably shout at her for it afterwards, she thought in the back of her mind.

Sophia looked at Camilla with weeping eyes and croaked, "Help me..." She clutched Camilla’s arm so hard, the sharp pointed nails dug into her flesh.

Camilla nodded but then realised she had no idea what to do or how to help. What was she supposed to do? She craned her neck to look back at the other ladies and asked in a panic, "How do I help her?"

"You can’t." one of the ladies standing around replied, her voice cold and flat. "Once a miscarriage starts, it cannot be stopped."

"But we can’t just leave her here bleeding! Can’t we do anything for her?" To leave someone untouched and without comfort on the floor seemed so wrong to the young girl.

The lady shrugged, unconcerned. "She needs to just finish her bleeding and hope she doesn’t lose her lifeblood in the process. Once that ends, Lady Sophia will have to just clean herself up and try for another child in future."

"She’d also better clean up the mess she’s made on the rug!" laughed another woman. "The queen will be furious. She had that rug especially imported from Havietten."

Camilla’s jaw dropped. She couldn’t believe they were joking about a rug in front of a bleeding woman. She turned to Sophia, who had stopped trying to speak and was just sobbing. "I’m so sorry, Lady Sophia. I don’t know what else to do or say." She felt her own eyes starting to water from sympathy.

Sophia, still clinging to her arm, simply nodded through her sobs as if accepting Camilla’s useless words. The rest of the ladies started filing out of the dressing room.

Camilla stayed on her knees next to the young woman, sensing the Sophia didn’t want her to leave. She accompanied her quietly until her pain seem to lessen and her sobs finally tapered off.

"Thank you." Sophia mumbled under her breath.

"For what?" Camilla felt she’d done absolutely nothing useful. She slowly stood up, noticing her velvet dress was stained with blood from where she had been kneeling. It was ruined. She hoped her father wouldn’t be too upset and would send her the money for a new one to be tailored.

Sophia was trying to shakily stand up as well. Camilla extended her hands and using all her strength, helped slowly haul the taller young lady up by both arms. They both looked down at the large blood stain on the queen’s allegedly precious rug.

"Can you walk?" Camilla asked, nervous Sophia might collapse again.

Sophia nodded stiffly but was trembling. Camilla was unconvinced. How was it possible to lose so much blood and still even be standing? Instinctively, she wrapped her arm around Sophia’s waist to try and support her weight.

Sophia held on to Camilla’s shoulder and leaned heavily on her as the two of them slowly emerged from the dressing room and into the presence chamber.

To Camilla’s astonishment, the queen was still lounging in her armchair and the ladies had all taken their spots around the edge of the tapestry again, calmly back to their stitching and quiet gossiping as if nothing had just happened only a few steps away. Camilla could do nothing but just stand there, frozen in place.

The eyes of the queen and ladies eventually swung in her direction but no one made a sound. Every face turned in her direction was blank and uncaring.

Camilla opened her mouth to explain to the queen what had just happened, thinking perhaps none of the other ladies had filled her in yet. But Queen Antonia spoke first.

"Clean yourselves up immediately, both of you. You’re both an utter mess." the queen’s voice was tight with disgust. Her eyes swept down the length of Camilla’s body and then bored into her niece’s face. "Don’t even think I’m paying to replace your dress. That will have to come out of your own father’s purse. Do you understand?"

Camilla nodded, wondering when the queen would acknowledge the suffering of her most devoted young lady-in-waiting.

Queen Antonia finally looked at Lady Sophia properly. "And you. Once you’ve cleaned yourself up, go straight to the chapel and pray for forgiveness."

Lady Sophia’s eyes filled with tears once again and the pleading look on her face was pathetic. The queen was unmoved.

"Why...why the chapel?" Camilla blurted out without thinking. Shouldn’t Sophia be seen by one of the court healers instead?

The queen’s expression was as hard as granite. "Because a miscarriage is proof of a woman’s grave sin. Whatever she did to bring this upon herself, she needs to plead for forgiveness before her soul ends up with the rest of the damned."

Sophia could only nod and bow stiffly, awkwardly to the queen before she slowly limped out of the room. As she left, Camilla saw how blood soaked the back of her skirts were. She suddenly gained an inkling of of what it physically meant to lose a child.

That day, Camilla learned two harsh lessons.

The first was that just because a woman had a baby in her belly, it was no guarantee she would end up with a healthy child in her arms at the end of it.

The second was that if something so terrible ever happened to her in the future, she’d want to be surrounded by people who cared about her and would provide comfort. Being left to suffer alone seemed worse than the miscarriage itself.

There was clearly no room for friendship or even commiseration amongst the queen and her ladies.