Earning the Love of a Princess-Chapter 187: Ever the Romantic

The sun tracked across the sky and had started its dip toward the horizon, when William finally sat up and sighed, "We should head back to the palace now, I’m afraid."

Nodding, Camilla sat up as well, then stood up and inspected her gown. It was dry at least, though the long skirt was somewhat crumpled. She didn’t even want to think about the state of her hair.

The two of them walked back to the tree where Everitt remained tied, calmly munching the surrounding grass. Untying the steed, William hoisted himself into the saddle and pulled Camilla in front of him.

"I really wish we didn’t have to go back." she grumbled.

"So do I." William murmured as he started slowly leading Everitt through the densely clustered trees. "Maybe we can make a life here instead, unbothered by anyone. We can live off Damiran figs and whatever I can hunt. You can stitch us clothing out of leaves and vines."

Camilla laughed, feeling his steady heartbeat thudding against her. "You make us sound like Adam and Eve. Then again, their story didn’t have a very happy ending."

"Ours will." William gave her waist a squeeze to warn her the horse was about to pick up its pace. Camilla wrapped her arms securely around him and a moment later, they were heading at a smooth canter back to their gilded cage in Westerhaven Palace.

- - -

Walking into their bedchamber, William shrugged off his outer tunic and shirt, walking into the dressing room to choose an outfit suitable for dinner. Once he was dressed, Camilla called for her maids.

Matilda immediately clicked her tongue in disapproval when she saw Camilla’s creased gown. "Whatever happened to you, my lady?"

"And a very good afternoon to you too, Matilda." William called out cheekily from his cluttered desk, where he stood while reviewing a document.

"We went riding." Camilla said shortly.

A strange sounding cough came from William’s direction. 𝗳𝚛𝚎𝚎𝘄𝕖𝕓𝕟𝕠𝚟𝚎𝕝.𝗰𝕠𝐦

The maids quickly removed the green gown and laced her into another one. Camilla refused to meet her husband’s eye as she stood there only her chemise, knowing he was quietly watching the entire ritual. Bonnie brushed out her hair, then twisted it up with golden pins.

"Alright then, my darling. Let’s go and face the vultures, shall we?" William held his hand out.

On their way to the banquet hall, they stopped off briefly at Malcolm’s nursery. Peering into his cradle and seeing his sweet, sleeping face, Camilla felt her heart swell and her firmly laced breasts prickle with milk.

She had no choice but to leave the nursery behind and attend dinner, no matter how much she wished she could just nurture her baby and forget about everything else. With a resigned sigh, she allowed herself to be led down the palace corridors.

The banquet hall was crowded and noisy, full of the boisterous chatter from vain courtiers that Camilla remembered.

It all struck her as pointless and boring, the constant gossip and jostling for favour. She donned a bland smile as she bowed to the monarchs and took her seat.

She glanced quietly at William, who looked equally bored and irritable next to her, remembering the silly fantasy he’d described earlier that day. Of running away from the confines of the court and living wild amongst the mangrove forests. The thought made her smile for how impossible it was.

Camilla couldn’t imagine her husband as anything but a Prince of Islia. Everything he was - his fearless energy, his cockiness, his exuberance that hid a childlike vulnerability - was a direct result of all that he’d experienced growing up within the royal house. You simply couldn’t separate the man from the prince.

The same way her identity had been formed by being born the daughter of the Duke of Arlington.

William slumped back in his seat, lazily watching his surroundings. "I’m hoping Tom and Eleanor will get into one of their screaming matches tonight and provide us with a little entertainment. And if they don’t, Rufus looks like he’s in the mood to pick a fight."

Camilla looked down the high table and saw Rufus shoveling food in his mouth, his head deliberately turned away from his wife, who looked like she was complaining bitterly about something.

Rufus noticed Camilla was looking at him and aimed a mischievous wink in her direction. She smiled and gave him a little wave.

"Ever the romantic, husband." With a smile, Camilla clinked her goblet against William’s.

- - -

William unbuttoned the stiff collar of his tunic, feigning polite interest as he watched the queen’s youngest ladies-in-waiting lead the evening’s entertainment, all dancing in identical bright blue dresses.

He let his mind drift to the tasks that awaited him over the next few days - including the restructuring of some armed battalions and finishing the distribution of endless pensions to the families of fallen soldiers.

William truly loathed the second task, loathed having to face the kin of deceased men. Weeping widows and children made him so uncomfortable that he’d often just stand there stammering useless condolences, as stiff and inflexible as a wooden block. It was a hundred times worse when he’d known the soldier personally.

When would the season of hardship and loss for Islia ever come to an end, he asked himself?

Or maybe the best one could ever hope for is moments of joy to puncture the grimness.

He’d better do his damndest to seize those moments, then.

William snapped back to the present, looking around in bemusement. The dance had ended and the audience was now clapping. He joined them in quick applause.

The blue gowned ladies began scattering throughout the hall, to seek dance partners and encourage the crowd to join in the merriment. William saw one glance at him and then start slowly approaching.

He raised an eyebrow. Don’t even bother, he told the young woman with his gaze.

She ignored his silent warning and bowed before him when she reached the high table, giving him a generous view down her low cut gown. Camilla, sitting next to him, was completely ignored by the chit.

William turned to his wife, who sat by with a serene expression on her face. If anything, she looked a little amused.

"Go dance if you wish, husband. I won’t mind." She smiled as she bit into a honeyed strawberry. The fruit stained her pout.

William swallowed, trying to repress a shudder. He faced the lady-in-waiting again, who was staring at him eagerly and in a crisply polite voice, told her, "Be gone, I’ve no need for you. And next time, remember to bow to the Princess of Islia."

The silly girl fled in embarrassment. William stood and hauled Camilla up by the elbow. He wasn’t capable of waiting any longer.

King Edward guffawed when the young couple bowed good night to the monarchs, but said nothing else. Queen Celia gave Camilla a smiling nod.

The moment they were finally alone in their bedchamber, William undressed his wife as carefully as if he were unwrapping a priceless gift. First unlacing her gown, then sliding her chemise off ever so slowly. After that, he dropped to his knees like a supplicant and proceeded to kiss every inch of her warm, sweet skin.

Soon, she was on the bed and squirming beneath his hands, her face flushed and her eyes closed. Ignoring her whimpers, he continued his trail of kisses. Even when she started begging him, he shut his hearing to her words and kept steadily trailing his mouth along every curve and valley, savouring the scent and taste of her.

It was only when Camilla literally screamed that she needed him inside her, that William finally relented. Hastily tugging off his clothes, he then pulled her onto his lap. Her eyes grew wider and wider as she took him into her ever so gradually.

William gritted his teeth against the almost unholy pleasure until she’d finally taken him in to the hilt. Camilla stopped for a moment, both of them shaking and her hands pressed on his chest for balance.

William took in a gulp of air and wrapped his hand around her slender throat, squeezing ever so gently. He pulled her face down towards his so he could kiss her swollen lips. She started to move slowly against him.

He was terrified he’d hurt her.

When he tried to bring it up, she’d told him in no uncertain terms, to shut up.

Well, alright then, he’d told himself as he let himself sink into the hot bliss. Her little cries became more urgent when he cupped her firm, generous breasts as they bounced. Soon, he was panting and twitching beneath her body.

William swallowed her cries as she shook and squeezed against him, then grabbed handfuls of her hair and tilted her head back. He pressed his mouth against her throat, not caring if he left a mark.

He would savour every last moment of peace and pleasure in his life, like a true hedonist, he vowed as he groaned desperately into Camilla’s neck.