Earning the Love of a Princess-Chapter 174: Do Better

William looked his wife right in the eye and waited for her answer. If she told him to leave, he’d honour her wishes, no matter how difficult it might be for him.

After a moment of just staring at him, Camilla slowly nodded. William felt his shoulders slump in relief.

Walking into the middle of the stifling room, he gingerly sat down on the edge of the bed. He felt more out of place than he could ever remember feeling. Camilla seemed to barely notice his presence, her eyes squeezing shut against the pain she was clearly in. The scandalised gazes of half a dozen older women however, continued to bore into him.

Just endure it, he scolded himself as he sat, unable to stop shaking with fear. William felt himself flinch and tense every time Camilla tried to choke back a cry. Seeing her in such pain was a sick kind of torture.

"Does the room have to be so goddamned hot?" William quickly found himself pulling off his outer tunic as he felt himself sweating.

Only one midwife bothered to acknowledge his question. "It’s to prevent the baby from becoming chilled when it’s born."

"Preventing a chill is one thing. But this room is so hot, Satan himself would complain." William hissed.

The midwives all shook their heads disapprovingly at him. One of them even went and stoked the fire in the fireplace.

Camilla’s pains seemed to be coming fairly regularly, though the midwives didn’t seem overly concerned. They mostly sat around gossiping amongst themselves and ignoring her. It was on the tip of William’s tongue to insist they do something more to help ease her suffering.

Maybe their lack of reaction meant the baby would surely be born very soon, he tried to reassure himself. It had already been a few hours since the whole affair had begun, hadn’t it?

"How long does birth usually take?" William asked.

The women exchanged looks, obviously growing impatient with his questions. "Sometimes it’s a day, sometimes several days." was the listless response from one.

"Several days?" William stared at her in horror. How could any woman endure that?

One of the crones snorted, then shrugged. "You know nothing about any of this, do you, my lord? Most men don’t."

"Is it always this...brutal?" William was struggling to tamp down the sickening panic raging inside him.

"Often, yes." came the heartless reply. "The first babe is the hardest. Besides, the mother is slim and small hipped and child seems to be of a good size. She was always going to struggle."

William was flustered by the crone’s dismissive tone, by the way the women just watched Camilla writhe in agony but didn’t lift a finger to comfort or reassure her. "Still, surely there must be something you can do to help her-"

"Well, why don’t you do something to help her, my lord?" another midwife interrupted him, grinning to reveal several missing teeth. "It’s your heir she’s bearing, is it not? You’re the one responsible for the situation she finds herself in, not us!"

William gaped at her. The other women roared with laughter.

"It’s true!" the midwife continued ruthlessly. "Did you ever think you’d make your poor little wife suffer this way when you lay with her? Of course not! You men can never think past your own pleasure in the moment."

William felt the blood drain from his face as all the midwives cackled at him. They were briefly interrupted by another piercing cry from Camilla, but then their laughter resumed.

William ran his hands through his hair anxiously. He could see Camilla’s knuckles turning white as she fisted the bedsheets beneath her desperately. She was trembling, her eyes wide with pain and fear.

He felt so useless. And so guilty.

William remembered Lady Taunsen’s words from a few days ago - that he’d left his wife alone during the most vulnerable and frightening time of her life. It only struck him now how terrifying it must have been for her to wait in anticipation of an event that might actually kill her, without hearing a single word of comfort from him.

He could’ve cried for how ill that made him feel now.

Camilla screamed again, her voice breaking from the effort.

William resolved in that moment to do better by her. If she still couldn’t find it in her heart to forgive him after all was said and done, he’d deal with it then. But for now, in this stuffy, crowded room, he’d try to help his wife as much as he could.

He noticed a bowl of clean water near the bed. Rifling through his discarded outer tunic, he found a handkerchief. He dipped the cloth into the water and wrung it out. Then he sat next to Camilla on the bed and quietly began to wipe her damp forehead.

She flinched from his touch at first, as if she feared he might hurt her. That made his heart ache more, yet he couldn’t even blame her for feeling that way. But after a moment, she relaxed a little.

The time passed, William repeatedly soaking the handkerchief and trying to cool Camilla’s flushed face between the pains, trying to offer even a little relief. He then looked at her cracked, bloodless lips and whispered to her, "Are you thirsty?"

Camilla glanced nervously at the midwives, then nodded a little.

William looked around the room until he spotted a silver ale jug. When he grabbed it, he found it empty. Gritting his teeth, he paused before his eyes landed on a junior maid, hunched in a corner and looking bored.

"You!" he pointed at the young girl. "Go to the kitchens and fill vessel with spiced ale. Now!"

One of the crones cackled again and smacked her lips. "How very thoughtful, my lord! I am rather thirsty, now that I think of it. I’m sure my sisters here would also appreciate a cup..." the words died on her lips when William threw a frigid glare at her.

Quickly realising the ale wasn’t going to be for them to enjoy, another midwife piped up pompously, "Her Highness isn’t allowed to drink anything, also for fear of chilling the babe."

"I’m not leaving my wife to die of thirst."

"But my lord..." one of the other midwives tried to interject.

William finally reached the end of his tether. "Is it your kin that rules this country or mine? Have you forgotten whose gold is paying for you to be here?" His voice was a low, dangerous hiss. "I suggest you all shut your mouths."

The midwives went still and silent.

William looked around the room and noticed the young maid he’d ordered to the kitchen, hadn’t moved from her corner. She was staring at him in fright. "What the fuck are you waiting for? Move!"

The young girl scrambled out the door.

William wiped the scowl from his face and sat back down next to Camilla, mopping her flushed brow as he spoke softly to her. "You’ll be able to drink something shortly, alright?"

Camilla nodded vaguely, her mind only half on the clash of words that had just taken place. She threw her head back into the pillow and groaned as another pain overtook her.

After what felt like an eternity, the young maid returned, struggling as she carried the large jug that was now filled to the brim.

With an impatient click of his tongue, William roughly took the jug from her hands and poured ale into a tall cup. The scent of rich, sweet spices wafted through the chamber. He could almost hear the midwives’ mouths watering. With a streak of pettiness, William ignored them. Instead, he gently helped Camilla into a more upright position and handed her the cup.

"Drink as much as you like." he whispered to her.

She aimed him a quick look of gratitude before she drained the entire cup, sighing with obvious relief.

"Would you like more?" William took the cup out of her hands.

She shook her head and squeezed her eyes shut, clearly bracing for another pain. Her hands clawed at the sheets again.

William unclenched her nearest hand and held it instead. "Here. Squeeze, scratch, pinch my hand as much as you like."

"Won’t that hurt you?" she croaked.

William smiled slightly. "I don’t really think you should be too worried about my pain at the moment, do you?"

Camilla looked at him in bemusement but then gave a little shriek of agony. She unwittingly squeezed his hand hard, her nails digging into his skin. She whispered something very quietly and William had to lean in close to hear her.

Her words made him want to sob from heartbreak.

"I’m scared. I’m so scared."

He stared back at her, his eyes starting to water and his own fear churning. "I know. So am I." He massaged her shoulder with his free hand, feeling completely inept. All he could do was silently pray that the ordeal would be over soon.