Earning the Love of a Princess-Chapter 181: Advice
3 September, 1360. Westerhaven Palace, Islia
William rushed down the crowded corridors on the way to his apartments. He’d managed to complete a reasonable amount of paperwork during the day and was hoping to be able to spend the rest of the afternoon with Camilla, before he had to get dressed and head to the banquet hall for dinner.
The king had been fairly tolerant of William skipping dinner in the hall most nights and eating with Camilla instead. That night however, scouts were due from the north. They were the scouts who had been supervising the withdrawal of Moraigthian forces from Islian territory, as agreed in the peace treaty. King Edward insisted William be part of the group to meet with these men and provide a detailed report on their findings.
Slipping into the presence chamber, he found the room empty save for Camilla’s black and white cat, curled up in a ball and asleep on an armchair. The feline lifted her head to peer at William, yawned with disdain and promptly went back to sleep.
William eyed the cat back warily. She was a wild-tempered little thing, always fond of running around and trying to climb everything in the middle of the night. If Camilla didn’t have a soft spot for her, William would’ve gifted the cat to one of the maids a long time ago.
He opened the bedchamber door and saw Camilla asleep on the bed. He frowned in selfish disappointment but refused to wake her, since she obviously needed the rest. Her health was his greatest priority.
William was about to leave the room and close the door behind him when he heard a funny little snuffling sound. He paused, then heard it again.
He tiptoed around the bed and when he looked in the cradle, he found baby Malcolm. The tiny boy was not only awake but he’d also managed to free one arm from his swaddle. The look on his little face told William he was about to start howling at any moment.
William quickly picked up the baby in an effort to soothe him. "Shhh, shhh. Please don’t cry and wake your mother up. You already gave her a very rough time when you were born." he whispered.
Malcolm stared back at him as if he actually understood his pleas and was simply trying to decide whether to agree to them or not.
He had the strangest coloured eyes, William thought to himself. A murky green mixed with grey, like turbulent river waters when swollen with rain after a storm. Malcolm blinked and then opened his mouth.
William clenched his jaw and braced himself for the inevitable wail. All the maids and nurses had commented that his son had an incredibly loud, demanding cry. Sometimes that was actually a source of pride for William.
In that moment however, it wasn’t.
William waited, but there was no cry. Nothing. Malcolm instead yawned and started to suck on his free fist while staring up at his relieved father.
William exhaled, then slowly walked over to the open window and gazed at the gardens below, which seemed to almost shimmer in the hot, damp air. He knew the heat wouldn’t start to die down until at least late September or so.
"Do you see that, my boy? The land?" he whispered to the infant in his arms. "That’s all Islia. It belongs to your line. It’s not all swamps and mangroves, though. My own personal estates are located to the north and northwest of Westerhaven and they’re full of valleys for farming and forests for hunting. One day they’ll be yours, I suppose. Perhaps when you’re a little older, I can take you to visit them. What do you think?"
William didn’t know how much time passed as he stood by the window and had a one sided conversation with his son, who occasionally snuffled back at him. It at least seemed to stop him from crying.
Eventually though, the baby scrunched up his face and started to fuss in earnest. What would Camilla do, William asked himself? She seemed to have an uncanny ability to soothe little Malcolm.
"Well if you had breasts full of milk too, William, you’d probably do a sound job of soothing the baby." he murmured to himself. He then turned to walk out of the bedchamber and find the wet nurse before Malcolm started his deafening cries.
As William turned around to face the bed, he realised Camilla was awake and watching him quietly. He froze and felt himself turning red to the roots of his hair, as if he’d been caught committing a grave error.
"Sorry. H-he was starting to fuss...and I didn’t want him to wake you. So I...uh I..." he tried to stammer an explanation.
"William, you don’t need my permission to pick Malcolm up or to spend time with him. He’s your child too." Camilla smiled at him, the sweet smile that always made him feel like he’d slayed countless enemies without effort and conquered an entire continent.
"Well, I don’t think he’s too thrilled with me anymore." William gave her a crooked smile.
"That’s probably because he’s hungry. Again." Camilla held out her arms. "Here, I’ll feed him."
William passed her the squirming baby. "Alright but I could just take him over to the wet nurse, you know."
She smiled. "I appreciate the offer, but I’m happy to do it." She cradled the baby against her chest and started to unlace her nightgown’s ribbon.
William poured himself a cup of sweetened ale and then settled himself on the bed next to Camilla, revelling in her warm, feminine scent. There was something oddly peaceful about watching her nurse their baby, almost beatific.
Until he saw her tense and flinch as Malcolm settled down into position. A look of unmistakable pain crossed her face, until eventually she seemed to relax somewhat and slowly breathe out.
"For fuck’s sake, wife. Are you in pain?" William asked in surprise.
"Well, this isn’t the most comfortable thing I’ve ever done." Camilla gritted out. "But the pain doesn’t usually last more than the first few moments."
"You have a wet nurse who could be doing all this for you, though."
"I realise that." Camilla responded through clenched teeth.
"So why do you do it, then?" William asked. "I’m not trying to dissuade you or anything. It’s just, well, you don’t look exactly comfortable doing it. It all seems like unnecessary suffering."
Camilla exhaled slowly before responding. "I’m getting more accustomed to it, each time. And I’ve been told this is quite normal in the beginning. Though it would be nice for you to have a word with your son and ask him not to bite down quite so hard."
William almost spit out a mouthful of ale and started choking with shocked laughter. Camilla thumped him on the back with her free hand and glared at him at the same time.
When he’d finally caught his breath again, William managed to ask, "So why this insistence on nursing Malcolm? Especially if the lad’s prone to biting?"
"Some advice I received." Camilla said vaguely, blushing slightly.
"What advice? Please tell me it wasn’t from one of those horrid midwives or maids, was it?" William stared sidelong at his wife.
"No, quite the opposite. It was from Bess." Camilla responded. "She told me that nursing a child helps prevent you falling pregnant with another child, though no one can really explain why. It’s partly why she continues to nurse Kate, despite the protests of her very unhappy mother-in-law."
"Really?" William raised his brows.
"It’s not that I’m not happy to have Malcolm. I am." Camilla hurriedly added, as if she felt the need to explain her actions. "But as much as I adore him, I’d rather not face the ordeal of another pregnancy and confinement right away."
"No, no. That makes perfect sense. I can’t think of anything worse for your health than having baby after baby without pause." William mused. "So nursing one child prevents you conceiving the next? How interesting. It is guaranteed to work?"
"I don’t think anything can be said to work with absolute certainty. Apart from you keeping your distance from me, of course." She aimed an impish smile his way.
William aimed a flat look at her. "That’s not going to happen. Absolutely not."
"Well then, this is the best way I can think of. It seems to have worked for Bess so far. And that’s even with Archibald pestering her nonstop." Camilla muttered the last sentence under her breath.
William started laughing again. "One day, you’re going to have to let me secretly listen in on one of these conversations you have with your ladies. They sound a hell of a lot more interesting than what I ever imagined. Truly, I had no idea!"
Camilla rolled her eyes and sighed. "You’re a wicked soul, husband."
"Yes." he hummed. "And aren’t you the most fortunate of women?"
