Earning the Love of a Princess-Chapter 188: Under Mother’s Eye
12 October, 1360. Westerhaven Palace, Islia
Camilla sluggishly walked down the corridor towards her apartments, a desperate lack of sleep finally threatening to catch up with her. She had being staying up late for several nights and helping William sort through enormous piles of paperwork.
Initially, she’d only been able to watch as he’d pored over documents night after night, reading and scrawling at a furious pace. Yet despite his efforts, the pile of documents on his desk never seemed to shrink much. She knew he was writing to confirm royal pensions being issued. The number of families left without a male provider by the war, was staggering.
Each night, William had insisted she go to bed and rest at her usual hour but Camilla struggled to fall asleep, knowing he was working late into the night by the glow of a single candle.
So one night, she’d offered to help him.
For a moment, William had looked at her as if she’d suggested he grow wings and fly. But then, a hopeful expression has taken over his tired face.
"You can write! I don’t know why I keep forgetting that!" William had exclaimed. He’d asked her to write the same text that described a pension grant, over and over again on numerous sheets of clean parchment. William had then customised each one with specific numbers and recipient names. Finally, he had signed and sealed each one with wax and his signet stamp.
They had finally finished the last of the letters last night, well after midnight. William had beamed and kissed her soundly, promising to thank her properly once they’d both caught up on sleep somewhat.
Camilla had been glad to be able to help, instead of following the noble Islian tradition of merely serving as her husband’s decorative asset.
She wasn’t expecting to see William again until dinner, given he’d made vague mention of some important reunion scheduled in the afternoon. She decided to try and lie down for a short nap.
Camilla stepped into their shared presence chamber, not at all expecting that the reunion William had mentioned, would actually be taking place in there.
All eyes in the room immediately turned her way. William smiled at her but Camilla could tell from his clenched jaw and tense posture, that she wasn’t interrupting a pleasant meeting.
A richly dressed, middle aged couple sat in armchairs, with a young man standing awkwardly behind them. The couple slowly stood and bowed to her, though there was nothing friendly about their gaze.
The woman in particular, looked at Camilla coldly. She was wearing a severe looking white wimple and veil. Mourning clothes. There was something familiar about the woman’s plump face, even though Camilla was sure they’d never been introduced.
"This is my wife, Princess Camilla." William spoke tersely, breaking the chilly silence. "Wife, may I present you to the Earl and Countess of Rhie, along with their second son, Lord Henry Bentworth. They’re here to present Lord Henry to court, to begin his knightly training."
"Ah." Camilla replied faintly. "Lord and Lady Bentworth, Lord Henry, a pleasure to meet you all. And my sincere condolences for the recent loss of your son and brother." 𝐟𝚛𝕖𝚎𝕨𝗲𝐛𝚗𝐨𝐯𝐞𝕝.𝐜𝗼𝗺
The noble couple nodded curtly.
"Lord Henry was originally destined for a career in the church." William explained to her. "However, now that circumstances have, well, changed, he’s relocating to court. He’ll begin his soldier’s training as a royal squire."
"As one of your squires?" Camilla couldn’t help but ask. Would William really want the brother of his once beloved companion as one of his men, a living reminder of what he’d lost?
"No." her husband replied. "Lord Henry is to join one of Rufus’s battalions."
Camilla nodded but said nothing more. She could see physical resemblances to Richard in both of his parents, but particularly in the countess, who had the same narrow grey eyes and thunderous gaze. The older woman’s eyes were now firmly fixed on Camilla while William spoke.
To escape the probing stare, Camilla swiveled her head to look at the younger Bentworth son - a heavyset, awkward looking lad of about fourteen summers. Standing somewhat timidly at his parents’ side, he seemed overshadowed by them. The youth frowned slightly at Camilla but also bowed to her, then glanced at his mother as if seeking her approval.
Lady Bentworth continued to stare at Camilla as if she’d committed some terrible deed.
Why is she looking at me this way? I’ve done nothing wrong, Camilla told herself. I was never intended to be part of this conversation so it’s best I just make myself scarce.
Camilla was about to excuse herself and retreat to the bedchamber, when she heard her name being called. She turned around just in time to see the wet nurse enter through the presence chamber doors that she’d left carelessly open to the corridor.
In what Camilla was sure had to be the most poorly timed entrance in the continent’s history, a smiling Marie bounded into the room, carrying Malcolm in her arms while calling out with her broad country accent.
"Your Highness! I brought the tiny lord as soon as he woke, as per your instruction..." the wet nurse stopped chattering as soon as she saw the stony faces in the chamber all turn in her direction.
Marie quickly bit her lip and bowed her head. "My apologies, Your Highnesses! I didn’t realise I was interrupting a visit."
Camilla nodded and quickly stepped forward to take the baby from the wet nurse’s arms. "It’s alright, Marie. Thank you. I’ll send for you when you’re needed again."
Sensing the hostility in the room, Marie quickly exited. Camilla was determined to do the same and retreat to the safety of the bedchamber, when she heard the countess ask, "You have a son now, Your Graces?"
"Yes." William replied simply. "As I was explaining before, Lord Henry will be accommodated initially in Guillfer Hall along with all the other new squires. After that-"
Lady Bentworth cut him off, her voice ominously soft. "Such an odd coincidence though, don’t you think? My son is gone, yet yours still remains. Does that seem fair? The Lord giveth and he taketh away."
Camilla instinctively turned her body so that Malcolm was no longer within Lady Bentworth’s line of sight. Something told her to protect her child from the countess’s iron stare.
"I see no parallel, my lady." William replied coolly. "You can’t compare the life of a grown man who went into battle while knowing the risks, to that of a mere baby. And many families have lost a son, not just yours. The fortunes of war, I’m afraid."
"But you went into battle also, Your Grace. You faced those very same risks you speak of. So why are you still standing here in perfect health, while my boy was left to rot in the mud?" Lady Bentworth challenged, eyes flashing.
Camilla opened her mouth to snap that her son hadn’t been left to rot on the battlefield, like so many others. That William had given Richard more consideration in death than Richard had probably given anyone in life.
Camilla pressed her lips together. This wasn’t her battle to fight. Instead, she politely nodded her head to each member of the Bentworth family and strode towards the bedchamber. She didn’t want her baby in that poisonous atmosphere any longer. Shutting and locking the door behind her, Camilla released a breath she hadn’t even realised she was holding.
Laying baby Malcolm in the middle of the large bed, she muttered, "Lord forgive me for being so nosy, but I simply have to hear this conversation." Ever so quietly, Camilla pressed her ear to the bedchamber door.
The words were muffled through the thick oak leaf, but still audible.
The earl’s deep voice said, "Your Grace, I must admit my countess and I were very surprised when we heard about your choice of bride. Was it necessarily wise to align our monarchy with the House of Stephenson?"
"It was a measure to help extend peace between the two countries. Or to help delay inevitable conflict, would actually be a better way to describe it." William responded.
"Well, it didn’t work!" the countess replied. "Our country was mauled by war regardless! Can you still justify your choice of wife, even after that?"
"I can. Our marriage meant that we went to war this year instead of the year before. It bought us a year during which we could strengthen and prepare our forces better. The fact that the Moraigthians carried out a surprise attack over winter...well, I hope you’re not suggesting my wife is to blame for the mild, dry weather that made an early invasion possible?"
"She’s still the niece of the enemy, some even say her king’s true heir." the countess continued, undaunted. "How can you share a bed with a woman with treacherous blood in her veins? Are you simply blinded by a man’s lust, Your Grace?"
