Earning the Love of a Princess-Chapter 176: Another Try

The midwives crowed in delight as the baby was tugged from Camilla’s body. All William could see was a blur of flailing pink limbs and an open little mouth as the infant wailed in outrage, still connected to Camilla by the cord of life.

William gaped, completely stunned.

"It’s a boy!" one of the women called out cheerfully. "A fair haired boy. Congratulations, Your Highnesses!"

Camilla rubbed her eyes with shaky fingers. William could tell she was desperately trying to see. "Is he alright?" she asked, her voice hoarse from screaming.

"I think so. He looks perfect." William hoped his words were right.

"Yes, he’s a good size and weight. Strong cry. And a head full of golden hair." The crone holding the baby grinned at Camilla as if she hadn’t just spent hours berating and yelling at her. William watched as a second midwife cut the baby’s cord, prompting fresh wails from the infant.

William felt himself flinch. Did a baby feel the cord being cut?

The oldest midwife continued briskly. "The child will now be taken to be bathed and then to the wet nurse, who’s already waiting in the nursery. In the meantime, my lady, you’ll be washed and the linen changed-"

Camilla rasped something as she tried to sit up. William gently helped her, then put his ear to her lips.

"I want to see him." her voice was a thin little thread, but it was determined.

"Give her the baby." William ordered.

"But my lord, that isn’t what’s supposed to happen-"

William sighed, not believing the woman was trying to defy him yet again. If it weren’t for his wife in earshot, he would’ve aimed the most obscene insults her way. Instead, he looked right at her and whispered menacingly, "Give the child to his mother. Don’t make me repeat myself. It has been a very long night."

Mute with anger, the old woman placed the squalling child into Camilla’s arms, partially wrapped in a length of linen. William watched as his wife folded back the linen a bit to look at the baby, seeing her eyes suddenly light up.

"Isn’t he lovely?" she whispered to him.

William hesitated, then leaned closer and stared at the baby, astonishment overtaking him. His eyes scanned the infant’s little features, the tiny hands balled into flailing fists, the fair hair that stuck up rather messily. "He’s...he’s beautiful. I had no idea a baby could be so beautiful." There was quiet awe in his voice. He gingerly touched the baby’s hand with one of his fingers and smiled slightly when the infant wrapped his tiny fingers around him.

William then turned to Camilla with concern. He was about to speak when he remembered there were half a dozen women staring at them both with impatience. "Can we please have a few moments alone?" he huffed.

The women started to file out of the room with great reluctance, one by one. He refused to even acknowledge the glares the older ones aimed his way. William decided the crones would all lose their positions as royal midwives if he had anything to do with it. However, that was a matter for another time.

He turned to Camilla, who was looking down and cooing at the baby as if she hadn’t just been through a terrible ordeal. "Are you alright though? Are you in pain?"

She shrugged as her if she’d already forgotten the last, hellish, hours. "I’ll be fine." Tracing the baby’s faint eyebrows with her fingertip, she turned to William. "Would you like to hold him?"

William felt a jolt of panic. "N-no. That’s not a very good idea."

"Why not?"

"Well..." William frowned. "He looks so small, I’m scared I’ll hurt him. I’ve never held a baby before." The thought of accidentally hurting the child made him sick with terror.

"Well, I’ve never held one either." Camilla replied. "We’ll have to both learn how to do this."

William stared at her. "Truly? You’ve never held a baby?" Surely she was lying to him. The way she sat with the infant cradled in her arms looked like the most natural thing.

"It’s the truth. Here." Camilla held the baby out to him and he desperately tried to place his hands the way she had them, fighting his fear. He felt the warm little bundle come to rest in his arms.

A strange, tight feeling spread across William’s chest as he looked down at the infant, who had stopped wailing and now gave a comical yawn, before starting to suck on his own little fist.

William wasn’t quite sure whether to laugh or cry from the emotion. He had never imagined it would feel that way. "I didn’t expect him to be so, well, perfect." he murmured as he traced the shell of a little ear, a button nose, tiny eyelashes.

"Of course you’d say that. He looks just like you." Camilla smoothed down the baby’s wisps of fluffy fair hair.

William laughed, oddly pleased to her her say that. "Because of his hair colour?" His eyes widened when he saw the infant’s tiny fingernails, perfect little miniatures.

"Not just that." Camilla said. "He has your mouth, your chin, the shape of your face. He has nothing of me about him at all."

William revelled for a few moments in the amazement of being able to see his likeness in his son’s little face. Then he turned to look at his wife, truly looked at her for the first time in what felt like an age.

Her face was shockingly pale and tear streaked, with dark shadows under her eyes. Her hair was a messy tangle around her shoulders. And yet, she managed to look so achingly lovely, especially when she looked down at the baby and smiled.

She looked up at him and they both just stared at each other silently. William cursed his own clumsiness with words. He’d never truly be able to explain how much he loved her, how sorry he was and how lonely he’d been without her all these months.

Camilla spoke first, her voice a hesitant rasp. "Did you really mean-"

"Yes." William tipped his forehead to press against hers and brought one hand to cup her cheek. He closed his eyes and sighed. "I love you more than I ever thought I was capable of. I’m never going to be happy without you in my life. Please, please let me try again with you. And with our boy."

There was silence. He drew his head back and waited for her response.

Finally, she gave him a timid little smile. "I love you too."

William saw the fear in her eyes. He knew she wouldn’t just be able to set aside and forget the last few weeks. It would take a while for her to trust him again.

So he’d have to prove himself to her, every day. There was no other way.

He gave her a brief kiss on her lips. "Are you sure you’re not in terrible pain? That was the most brutal thing I’ve ever had to watch."

She gave him a wan smile. "Well, I’m rather tired."

William was about to tell her that she’d been as brave as a lion, when the door to the bedchamber swung open and the midwives returned. He noted dourly that the crones were all smiles now that the baby had been safely born.

One of the women asked, "What will you name the babe, Your Graces?"

William’s mind went completely empty. He’d never even thought that, of course, every child needs a name. He then smiled and was about to suggest they name him William, since there was such a resemblance between the two of them. He rather liked the idea. But before he could make a sound, Camilla spoke first.

"Malcolm."

William stared at her, completely taken aback. "What? Are you serious?"

"Yes." Camilla stared back. The absolute certainty on her face told him she wouldn’t be swayed.

"Malcolm Devon? It’s hardly an Islian name!"

"I’m quite aware of that, husband." Camilla murmured.

"But he looks like me! And..." William looked up at the ceiling and blew out a deep breath. Was it worth having this quarrel just because she wanted to name their son for her deceased brother? "Alright then, Malcolm it is."

A midwife approached him to take the baby away to be bathed and fed. William quickly ducked his head to whisper to his son that they’d see each other soon, then reluctantly surrendered him.

Camilla leaned back on the pillows and closed her eyes. William smoothed loose strands of hair back from her face, hating seeing her look so fragile.

A midwife stepped forward and started wiping Camilla’s face and neck with a wet cloth. Before he could stop himself, William found himself snapping at the woman to be as gentle as possible.

Camilla opened her eyes and smiled weakly. "Go see the baby, make sure he’s alright."

William opened his mouth to protest that he wanted to stay with her, but finally nodded. Kissing her clammy forehead and promising to return as soon as he could, he stood from the bed and walked on shaking legs out of the bedchamber and through the presence chamber.

He suddenly blinked and squinted at the daylight, such a contrast from the darkness of the last several hours. Trying to smooth down his damp, rumpled shirt, William kept walking out into the corridor. The usual movements of the castle surrounded him.

William started taking his first fearful, tentative steps down the corridor and into fatherhood.