Earning the Love of a Princess-Chapter 164: Out of the Shadows

2 August, 1360. Westerhaven Palace, Islia

"My lady! My lady!"

Camilla was startled out of her drowsy state by Meg’s shrieks. She struggled to sit her awkward frame upright on her bed. A couple of moments later, Meg tumbled through the front door of the bedchamber, red cheeked and panting. "The army..." she managed to gasp before she started wheezing, leaning her weight against the door frame.

The entire court had been anxiously awaiting updates almost a week, yet no messages had arrived. Even Queen Celia was apparently praying multiple times a day at the royal chapel, fearing terrible news.

Camilla pushed her aching back against the bed head and stared at Meg in terror. "Is it good news?" she asked, clenching her fists to brace herself.

"Yes!" gasped Meg. "A peace treaty...is signed. Our forces...are returning home...expected here within a few days!"

Camilla gaped at her friend. "A treaty? So they...they won? Not just a battle, but the entire war is over?" This was a miracle beyond even what she’d prayed for. "How can that be possible?"

"I swear, that’s what the messenger said. I don’t know the details, though." Meg confessed. "The poor man looked like he’d ridden his horse to the brink of collapse to share the news with Her Majesty."

Camilla shook her head in awe, fearing Meg must’ve heard wrong. If there had been no decisive battle, why would both sides suddenly agree on peace?

My uncle would rather fall in battle than negotiate, especially with Islia, Camilla said to herself.

Seeing the hesitation on the princess’s face, Meg offered, "There must be more to the story. I can go ask for more information, my lady. The queen’s ladies will understand if I approach her on your behalf."

"Thank you, Meg. I’m sorry to send you out there again when it looks like you ran through the entire palace to give me the news."

"It’s no trouble, my lady. I’m dying to find out myself. It seems, um, rather out of character for your uncle to agree to any kind of treaty." Meg finally caught her breath and began heading out the way she came in. "I’ll be back as soon as I can!" she called out from the presence chamber.

Camilla exhaled slowly, refusing to let herself cling too tightly to Meg’s words until she’d been able to glean more details. She hoped Meg would be able to return before nightfall.

Then again, Camilla realised she had no idea what time of the day it was.

She had started losing track of the days, or even whether it was day or night, after being ensconced in the shadows. How long had she been in confinement? A few days? Close to a fortnight? Camilla felt ready to claw the walls in desperation and boredom.

Whenever she asked her maids, they would only respond in terms of how long until her baby would likely be born, which they told her was in about a month. "Rest up, my lady." they’d reply cheerfully. "Nothing else matters until then."

Of course other things matter, Camilla felt like screaming! Was she truly expected to just lie passively in bed for weeks on end and do nothing but sleep to pass the time away? How did other ladies endure being confined with their sanity intact?

Camilla was standing next to William’s desk and idly thumbing through some of the papers he’d left behind, when she heard the bedchamber door open again. She spun around eagerly, only to slump in disappointment when she saw it was one of her new maids and not Meg.

"Your Highness!" the woman cried. "What are you doing standing up? You must lie down and rest immediately!"

"I’ve been lying on the bed almost all day. Standing for a few moments won’t cause any harm." Camilla replied flatly. "Lying down actually makes my back hurt more."

"My lady, that makes no sense at all!"

"Have you carried any children of your own, Seraphine?" Camilla asked quietly, eyes sharp.

"Well, no..."

"Then you need to stop trying to give me advice! I’m already going to be in here trapped for weeks. If I want to stand for a while because I’m sick of the baby kicking me without stopping every time I lie down, then I’m going to goddamn stand!" Even Camilla was a little taken aback at the snarl in her tone.

Oh well, she thought as she watched the maid flee the bedchamber. It needed to be said.

Fortunately, Meg was able to return later the same day, along with Katerine. Camilla shooed away the ever present maids from her bedchamber so that the three could speak privately.

"It’s as the army messenger reported earlier. A peace treaty was signed between Islia and Moraigth a few days ago." Meg confirmed triumphantly. "Your uncle’s forces are withdrawing from our northern provinces and back across the River Caine. No land has changed hands, so everything will go back to how it was."

"Not exactly how it was." Katerine muttered darkly. "The Moraigthians set almost the entire counties of Eberelle and Kotailt on fire. There’s nothing to eat and the people are starving. Lord knows how they’ll survive the winter, with no crops to harvest."

"Why would my uncle unleash such destruction, only to let himself be convinced to seek peace?" Camilla asked.

"Actually, my lady," Katerine said tentatively. "It was King Kenneth who petitioned for the treaty first."

"But why?"

Meg and Katerine exchanged brief looks, then Meg replied quietly, "His baby son died in the cradle. The king no longer has a male heir and his greatest lords were less inclined to risk their lives fighting for a king with only a daughter to inherit."

Camilla was stunned.

"We hesitated to tell you about the baby’s death in your condition, my lady." Katerine said gently. "But we knew you wouldn’t want to only hear half the truth."

"N-no, you did the right thing by telling me." Camilla replied hastily. She could feel her own child kicking relentlessly. "It’s just that...the start of the war was partly driven by that child’s birth and now he’s gone..."

"Bless the little boy’s soul, but the king should never have used greed on behalf of his son to start a war." Meg said firmly.

"Well, if his lords refused to unite behind him, I can understand why my uncle couldn’t fight on. But why didn’t the Islian forces then push forward and try to crush the enemy?" Camilla was struggling to understand why a man as ruthless as King Edward wouldn’t have seized his advantage over a divided Moraigthian army and just run roughshod over them.

Meg shrugged. "There would’ve been good reasons behind it. And you’ll be able to ask Prince William about them in only a few days."