Earning the Love of a Princess-Chapter 170: No Need to Argue

"Good evening, husband."

William jolted in surprise and nearly stumbled in the semi darkness of the bedchamber, the moment he heard Camilla’s voice.

Fuck, thought William. Is nothing at all fated to go my way these days? What am I supposed do now?

Her voice was placid and sweet, which surprised him. William had assumed Camilla would be ready to tear him to shreds the moment she saw him, given he’d been deliberately ignoring her and avoiding visiting for the last few days.

"Good evening, wife." he replied. "I, uh, just need to grab a couple of things. I didn’t mean to disturb your rest. I thought you’d already be asleep." 𝒇𝙧𝙚𝓮𝔀𝓮𝒃𝙣𝓸𝒗𝒆𝒍.𝙘𝒐𝒎

"Hmmm. You thought or you hoped?" Camilla’s voice was still sweet but the edge in it was unmissable.

William sighed in resignation and grabbed the candlestick holder he could see on the table next to the fireplace. If she already knew he was there, he figured he might as well see what he was doing while in the dressing room, instead of fumbling around for things in the dark.

After using the fire to light the tapers, William placed the candleholder back on the table and reluctantly turned to face his wife.

Camilla was sitting up against pillows in a pale linen nightgown as she stared back at him, clearly wide awake. Her expression was utterly flat.

"I’m very sorry to disappoint you by still being awake, then. I guess I’ve robbed you of the opportunity to sneak in and out of here yet again like a coward." Camilla smiled faintly.

William could feel his hackles rising at the insult but managed to hold back the urge to snap back. He didn’t need to make things worse. "I’ll only be here a couple of moments. And I’ve no interest in having another argument with you. It’s been a long day."

"Is that so? A long day of what - feasting and drinking over your recent victories?"

William glared at her. "Actually, there’s an enormous amount of work on my shoulders trying to help repair the ruin to the north that the invasion created. I don’t expect you to know that, but please don’t assume you know how I fill my days. Because you have no goddamn idea."

"You’re right." Camilla agreed. William blinked.

"I have no idea because I’m stuck in here, unable to leave, and you haven’t bothered to spend five minutes with me. So, no, I can’t be expected to have any goddamn idea how you’re filling your time these days." Camilla coolly replied.

Inwardly, William was tempted to smile at his clever wife. Camilla always did know how to get a rise out of him, for better or for worse, with her words.

Outwardly though, he simply crossed his arms as he stared hard at her. She unflinchingly met his gaze.

She looked adorably small and alone in the large bed, the same bed where the two of them had shared so many happy, passionate, laughing nights. Part of William was tempted to just wrap his arms around her and tell her he’d go along with whatever she asked, so long as she’d stop looking at him as if he was a terrible disappointment.

Wait, he told himself. What about the way that she has disappointed you?

Something stopped him from rushing to her, perhaps it was his pride. Try as he might, William’s feet wouldn’t move. He was too angry to concede, he admitted to himself. Too angry to be boxed into a corner and forced to accept a life he’d never wanted.

The silence stretched on between then, uncomfortable and heavy with mutual hurt. Finally, Camilla looked away with a little laugh.

"What’s so funny?" William asked sharply.

"I was just thinking...those nights we would barely sleep because we’d spend hours just talking. I used to think I could tell you anything." Her voice was soft as she reminisced. "And now look at us. So angry that we can hardly bear to speak to each other."

Fuck. The woman really knows how to punch where it hurts the most, William thought.

Out loud, he retorted, "And you believe I’m solely responsible for that, don’t you?" He didn’t mean for his tone to sound quite so icy.

Camilla looked at him calmly, as if she were wondering whether he was even worth responding to. Before she could say anything more however, she winced with what looked like pain. Her entire frame seemed to go rigid as her hands clutched her belly.

"Are you alright?" William asked uneasily, approaching her bedside.

Camilla nodded quickly but squeezed her eyes shut for a moment and bit her lip. "I’m fine." she muttered.

He wasn’t convinced. "You’re obviously in pain. Do you need me to call someone to help? One of your maids, perhaps?" William rubbed the back of his neck, feeling awkward that he knew so little about what his wife was going through.

"No, I’ll be alright." Camilla opened her eyes again and slowly blew out a breath, seeming to relax somewhat. "The maids say it’s quite normal for the baby to kick this hard. It means it’s not too long until he’ll be born."

William nodded slowly, then stared. "Wait. You called it a ’he’?"

She shrugged. "I think it’s a boy. I guess I’ll find out soon enough."

"Is that what you want? To have a boy, I mean."

"What I want is for my back to stop aching constantly and to be allowed to enjoy the fresh air again. I’m not really thinking of anything beyond that." Camilla looked down at her hands, still resting on the curve of her belly. "I won’t keep you any longer. Go to the dressing room and get whatever you need."

Something about her words stung William like a whip. "Are you trying to get rid of me?"

"It’s very late and it sounds like you have a great many things to do tomorrow. I’m not going to try and force you to stay somewhere that you don’t want to be." Camilla said quietly and lay back against the pillows with her eyes closed. "Good night, William."

He backed away from the bed, his throat tightening. Stalking into the dressing room, he grabbed a few items without paying much attention. When he returned to the bedchamber, Camilla didn’t move and her eyes remained shut.

It’s like she couldn’t care less whether I’m here with her or not, William thought. Maybe she truly doesn’t care. Maybe all this has caused her not to love me anymore.

She has the baby now and she’s chosen him over me. What does she need me for?

His fury and anguish blended together into something that made him want to put his fist through a window. Instead, he clenched his jaw and walked out of the room without another word.

William slammed the door hard behind him.

- - -

Camilla looked up at the velvet canopy above her head with hot, aching eyes. The tears continued to roll silently down her face.

She tried to convince herself they were merely tears of anger from having argued with William again. What was the point of lying to herself, though?

Despite her calm facade, she was miserable and lonely without him. She was scared of being abandoned and of giving birth alone. And she feared that everything between them had gone so wrong, they’d never find happiness together again.

Camilla wondered if she’d made a terrible mistake earlier, when she’d closed her eyes and told him he shouldn’t linger here if he had other things to do. She just hadn’t been able to endure his cold stare any longer.

Even in the dim light, she’d seen his expression of distaste, the way his eyes had kept flicking repeatedly over her belly and burning with resentment.

He’d made her feel like she’d morphed into a hideous, unlovable monster.

It reminded Camilla of her first few anxious months in Islia, when even her breathing had seemed to make William scowl. Back then, she hadn’t known him. But now she did.

And now it was clear she disgusted him.

"It’s alright, it’ll be alright. I promise." she whispered to her child, feeling his little limbs prod and kick restlessly as if he could sense her unhappiness.

Camilla knew she wouldn’t be truly alone. Her ladies had vowed to band around her and help raise her little one. She knew she could rely on Blanche for support and advice. Even Queen Celia had stopped by earlier that day, having obviously gotten wind that William was avoiding his wife.

The queen had patted Camilla’s hand with cheerful briskness and assured her everything would come right in the end, to focus on her health and not let herself be distracted by the stupidity of men.

"Mark my words, the silly boy will come crawling back to you in a few weeks, begging for forgiveness. Just wait it out until then."

Camilla couldn’t imagine William begging for much of anything, but all she could do was hope the older woman was proven right.

What other option did she have?