Earning the Love of a Princess-Chapter 169: So Close and Yet, So Far

13 August, 1360. Westerhaven Palace, Islia

An eternity.

It had been six days and an eternity since William had returned to Westerhaven, almost bouncing with relief and joy, only to find everything had changed.

The life he’d left behind and expected to return to, no longer existed.

He hadn’t gone back to speak to Camilla again since that terrible encounter on his first day back. In his mind, there wasn’t anything left to say. He’d given her a choice and she’d clearly made it.

She didn’t choose him.

That had really fucking hurt, that she had chosen a baby she’d never met or even mentioned wanting, over him. When William knew that if the roles were reversed, there was nothing and no one he would’ve chosen over his wife.

Perhaps I love her more than she loves me, he mused. It was truly pitiful that he, of all people, had ended up in such a situation.

William had found a large, empty guest chamber at the start of the east wing, and had taken to sleeping there. Every night, William would wait until he was certain Camilla would be asleep, then slip into their shared dressing room and grab items for the following day.

His pages and servants attended to him in the new chamber he was sleeping in, without a single question.

Apparently, the arrangement wasn’t so unusual. A wedded couple weren’t supposed to be sharing a bedchamber at this point anyway. The crop of new maids that were constantly flitting in and out of their apartments these days, had told William as much. Apparently, an expectant mother needed privacy and only the company of women during her last few weeks. It was something called a confinement.

Camilla was expected to remain in their bedchamber, which was now was dark and stuffy, to rest and prepare. As the mere husband, he was expected to find somewhere else to sleep.

After everything that’s happened, I can’t even find solace in my own fucking rooms, William seethed. And those rooms were mine well before I even crossed paths with a certain Moraigthian princess!

He knew it was an immature thing to complain about. But the childish, petty side of him refused to let it go.

During the day, William kept himself occupied with the myriad of tasks required after an army returned from a campaign, especially such a fierce one. There were weapon inventories that needed updating, tracking the recovery of the men who’d returned home while still injured and pensions to be arranged for the widows and families of fallen soldiers.

William rose early and didn’t sleep until late, only briefly stopping for meals. In truth, he was glad there were so many pressing matters to fill his day. It meant that he had little time to think about anything else.

Lord knows the last thing I need right now is to be contemplating my own dark thoughts, William told himself.

And at least the king hasn’t placed me in charge of arranging the collection of the harsh new taxes to be imposed on the people, to pay for the rehabilitation of the north. Tom and Rufus had been charged with that thankless task.

Every night, William would sit silently through dinner as the court continued to feast and celebrate. He wondered how much the average courtier knew about the alleged Islian triumph in war over Moraigth. Did they know their side hadn’t won, but merely lost to a lesser degree?

Or maybe they knew and didn’t care.

- - -

Camilla nibbled at the sugared fruit that her ladies had brought back to her after dining in the banquet hall. The three of them had gotten into the habit of spending every evening in her gloomy bedchamber, feeding her both sweet morsels and tidbits of news from the court.

To Camilla, her friends had become her lifeline to the outside world, to a court that now seemed very far away. They also served as a distraction from her aching back and the little twinges and tightening she was experiencing in her belly, more and more frequently.

Elizabeth slid a small bowl of blackberries across the bed. "Here you go, my lady. I gathered these knowing how much you like them." 𝒻𝓇𝑒𝘦𝘸𝑒𝒷𝓃ℴ𝑣𝘦𝑙.𝒸ℴ𝘮

Camilla smiled her thanks, even though the fruit had lost its appeal to her. All they made her think of was her husband - the times William would insist on simultaneously feeding her blackberries and kissing her, always praising how delicious she tasted. She bit into a berry now.

It tasted like dust.

Damn that selfish bastard to hell, Camilla cursed silently. Not only has he completely broken my heart, he’s also taken away all the pleasure from one of my favourite foods.

William hadn’t bothered coming back to see her since their quarrel. He hadn’t even sent a message to inquire about her health. It seemed despite all his past passionate declarations of love, she’d now ceased to exist for him.

All because she’d done something he considered unforgivable, when it hadn’t even been all her fault! Did he think she’d ended up with child, solely through her own actions?

Camilla tried very hard not to dwell on it, lest she choke on her tears all day. All that crying simply won’t do, she told herself sternly, over and over again. She didn’t want her sorrow and anger to poison her innocent baby. That little soul was all she had left.

It would be alright. William’s rejection hurt terribly now but in time, she’d heal and survive without him. If William no longer needed her, then Camilla was determined not to need him either.

But that wasn’t strictly true, was it?

Camilla knew that as a married woman, her future was inextricably linked with his. As with any wife, her fate and fortune would rise and fall alongside William’s. He could certainly survive and even thrive without her.

The reverse wasn’t true for her, though. Everything she had ever owned, now belonged to him under the law. Even if Camilla no longer had William’s love, she still needed his benevolence, for her child if nothing else.

The though of having to wheedle and beg from the man who’d discarded her, just to survive, made her want to gnash her teeth and scream.

Why, oh why had she ever agreed to wed him? Marriage was a losing game for women.

Is it mine?

Camilla wished she could fly down to the banquet hall that instant and claw her husband’s beautiful eyes out, for daring to suggest she’d be unfaithful and try to pass another man’s child off as his.

She was snapped out of her bitter thoughts by Katerine’s voice, who was busy describing what she’d seen at the high table during dinner.

"Your husband looks utterly miserable, my lady." Katerine chirped with satisfaction. "Every night, he sits there in silence and refuses to take part in the merriment and dancing."

Meg snorted. "And that’s despite every unmarried woman making a beeline for the prince as soon as the musicians start playing. He just waves them all off and refuses to budge from his chair. The man certainly knows how to brood."

Camilla shook her head wearily. She knew what her ladies were trying to do - reassure here that William was struggling without her as much as she was without him. But she found no pleasure in the knowledge. Her sadness was like a suffocating fog, consuming everything.

"Let’s talk about something else, please. I don’t want to think about William right now."

The three ladies nodded, but all looked at her worriedly. Katerine especially looked downcast. "The two of you will make up eventually though, won’t you, my lady? You were so happy and in love just a few months ago. And the prince has adored you almost since the day you came to court."

Camilla looked at her friend for a moment and then looked away. "I truly don’t know. You have no idea how stubborn William can be when he thinks he’s right about something. And even if he finds a way to forgive me in his mind..." her expression hardened, "I don’t know if I can ever forgive him."

- - -

It was close to midnight by the time her ladies finally departed from her rooms. Before they left, they helped Camilla get ready for bed, as had become their habit. Camilla felt uncomfortable at receiving their help, but doing things on her own these days seemed to take forever.

She’d be glad after the baby was born to not be so slow and swollen, if nothing else.

After her ladies whispered their good nights and slipped out of the bedchamber, Camilla laid back on the pillows, watching the flickering light cast by the slowly dying flames in the fireplace.

A little while later, she could hear faint movements in the presence chamber next door, more than likely Sophie. The cat had a penchant for tumbling around over the floor and furniture at night, before eventually curling up to sleep.

Camilla then watched as the bedchamber door opened slowly and silently.

"Good evening, husband." she said placidly to the shadow in the doorway, proud of how even her voice sounded, despite her urge to hurl something heavy at him.