Earning the Love of a Princess-Chapter 175: So Be It

Camilla wasn’t sure how much time passed. The stabbing pains along her belly and back kept coming in waves, closer and closer together.

She tried not to cry out where possible, having been made to feel by the midwives that she was making a noisy fuss over nothing much. There were times when she couldn’t help it though, and screams tore out of her. She clawed William’s hands so hard that she could see marks on his flesh from where she’d dug her nails in.

She was aware of his presence next to her, patting her back and whispering words of encouragement. When she looked at him, she could see his face was pale and his eyes were darting around the way they did when he was anxious. To her though, he tried to smile reassuringly and didn’t say a word about his own fear.

Camilla appreciated his presence more than she could say. Even though she was unsure how things between them would end up, she was glad to have someone in the room who cared about her.

Or maybe he no longer did and was just trying to be kind? She wasn’t sure.

She also couldn’t think about it for long as another ferocious pain shot through her. A sound between a scream and a growl escaped from her throat.

Would the hell never end? Even the midwives were starting to look restless and fatigued.

Camilla swiped back a strand of her hair stuck to her cheek, silently cursing the sweltering chamber. She felt William press a cool cloth to her forehead. He had removed his tunic hours ago and rolled up his shirt sleeves. His shirt clung to him, damp with sweat, as he brought a cup of ale to her lips so she could sip from it.

She took a drink, then fell back on the pillow. Camilla now understood how William’s own mother had died in childbirth. Closing her eyes, she muttered a quick prayer.

The prayer was interrupted when she felt hands pressing down roughly on her belly, increasing the pain. She howled.

"What the fuck are you doing?" Camilla heard William bellow through the haze of her agony.

"Pushing to help the child move down its mother’s body. We have to get it moving. If it becomes stuck and she keeps bleeding like this, both will die." one of the midwives replied. Camilla felt hands pushing down hard on her again.

She heard a sharp intake of breath at her side, then William’s voice choked out, "She’s not going to die! Don’t ever, ever say such a thing!"

"I’m tired." Camilla mumbled. "Just leave me alone, all of you." She closed her eyes.

"My lady, you must push! Whenever we press your belly, you have to push." a midwife replied.

"I can’t...I’m tired..."

"Camilla, listen to them!" she heard William say behind her closed eyes. "You must do as they say."

"What...does it matter? I want to sleep." Camilla was starting to feel light headed, like she could drift away from her own body. It was a rather pleasant feeling, far better than the waves of stabbing pain and the midwives’ harsh voices. She opened her eyes and saw William’s white face.

"What do you mean, it doesn’t matter?" William raised his voice.

Camilla closed her eyes again. She felt his hands shaking her.

"Didn’t you hear her? If you don’t push, you’ll die! And the baby will die!" William’s voice cracked.

A pang of sorrow ran through Camilla. Her poor baby, its life would be over before it could begin. Then again, would that be any worse than having a father who cared nothing for him or her? Her baby would suffer their father’s neglect and resentment all their life.

She’d seen what that had done to William. Wasn’t she better off not letting history repeat itself?

"So be it." she whispered. She smiled slightly at the temptation to just sleep all the pain away.

"What the hell are you saying? No! No!" William was yelling now, shaking her hard by the shoulders.

Camilla’s eyes popped open in sudden anger and disbelief. How dare he pretend to care about her fate now, when he’d shunned her for weeks? If she had the baby, William would resent her for the rest of his life, for forcing fatherhood on him.

He’d probably exile her to some remote house in the countryside until the end of her days. Wasn’t that his solution for unwanted, unloved wives?

"Camilla?" he wouldn’t stop shaking her. "Can you hear me?"

"What does it even matter to you?" she growled under her breath, squinting resentfully at William. "As if you care what happens to either of us."

He looked at her as if she’d slapped him. His shocked expression made her even angrier. He had no right to look so hurt, when he’d been the one who had wounded her by turning away from her so completely.

"Stop pretending you care whether I do what I’m told or not. If the baby and I die, you’re free. You won’t have to be a father. You get what you want." Camilla tried to close her sleepy eyes again. "Just leave me alone."

William’s eyes started to water again and he looked at her like a brokenhearted child. He’d once been the sweetest, most thoughtful husband in the world to her. She steeled her heart against him now.

"Please don’t say such things." he begged her. "If you don’t survive this, I’ll die with you."

Camilla asked herself - if she survived, could she live her life in distant exile with her child, both of them unloved? 𝘧𝘳𝘦ℯ𝓌𝘦𝒷𝘯𝑜𝑣𝘦𝓁.𝒸𝘰𝓂

No. The answer was immediate. Knowing the extraordinary happiness and love that had once existed between William and her, Camilla knew she couldn’t live the rest of her days grieving the loss of it. Remembering it would break her heart every single day.

"Just leave, William." she gasped out as she felt another pain wrack her.

"I’m not leaving!"

Camilla shook her head in resignation. Why wouldn’t he just let her have some peace? She felt him squeeze her hand and his breath in her ear as he began to rapidly whisper.

"I know I was wrong. Completely wrong." Camilla heard the strain in his voice. "I shouldn’t have shut you out like I did. I was so shocked when I saw you with child. But I should’ve spoken to you about it."

Camilla groaned as she felt insistent hands pushing her belly again. "It doesn’t matter." What was the point of discussing things that couldn’t be changed?

"It does matter! I’m truly sorry, my love. I am so fucking sorry! I left you alone when you must’ve been so scared, just because I couldn’t face the thought of sharing you with anyone else. Even our child."

It was the first time William had referred to the baby as something belonging to both of them. Camilla opened her tired eyes and looked at him. Tears were starting to roll down his face.

"It’s too late to change anything now, I can’t not have the baby." she said.

"I can change, though." William pleaded. "If you do this, I swear I’ll be a good father. I’ll do my very best for our child."

Camilla squeezed his hand and cried out as she felt as she was being knifed again. As the pain started to ebb, she said, "Those are just words. They don’t mean anything." Tears welled her eyes, though she wasn’t sure if they were from fear, pain or heartbreak.

"I swear on my mother’s name that I’ll be a good father." William replied, his voice choked. "But I can’t do it on my own."

She looked at him with blurry eyes, looked at his anguished, tear streaked face. "You really mean this?"

"Yes! I swear I’ll spend my every remaining day proving myself to you. But if I’m to do that, you have to live! You can’t just give up. Have the baby so that you can give me another chance!" William’s voice then dropped to a whisper. "Please, Camilla. You’re the love of my life. I’m not going to be able to live without you."

Another pain roared through her, another press of hands on her belly. This time, Camilla pushed alongside it. Maybe she was a fool, but even if there was a small chance that the two of them could find their way back to each other, she had to try and seize it. For her baby’s sake, if nothing else. Hoping she wouldn’t regret her decision, she looked up at William and finally, gave a small nod.

"Yes! Push again!" one of the crones shouted.

Camilla bore down again, biting her lip so hard, she tasted blood.

The minutes - or hours - slid by, a blur of pain and pushing and the midwives yelling instructions. Suddenly, Camilla felt a distinctive shift inside her belly.

"The child is moving down!" called a voice. "Don’t stop pushing, my lady!"

Feeling like the building pressure was going to cut off her air, Camilla tried to lift herself up on her elbows. A gnarled old hand on her chest promptly pushed her down.

"A mother must remain on her back-" one of the midwives protested.

"Shut up and let her do as she pleases!" William snarled back. "You serve her, not the other way around."

With that, Camilla felt his strong hands on her back, helping prop her into a half sitting position. She gasped as she could breathe a little easier and bore down harder. Another shift in her belly.

Clinging to William’s hands, she looked at him, wild eyed. Her fear was mirrored in his gaze, but he squeezed her fingers and nodded. Then he gave her a shaky smile in a desperate attempt to help soothe her.

"It probably won’t be long now, pretty girl."

Pretty girl? In that hellish moment? Camilla almost laughed out loud. But a warm pinprick of light bloomed in her chest at hearing him use a term of endearment from long ago.

She pushed again. A midwife screamed she could see the baby’s head. The pain was constant now.

Gathering the last of her strength, Camilla yelled as she pushed as hard as she could, then fell back on the pillows and closed her eyes. She hoped that had been enough as she had no more left to give.

"Lord have mercy." she heard William’s stunned whisper beside her.

A baby’s choking cry filled the room.