Earning the Love of a Princess-Chapter 195: …Just Disappointed

Where within a castle would a lady hide when she wants to avoid her husband?

That was the question William asked himself over and over again during the day. In between running errands, overseeing training and reviewing documents, he looked for Camilla wherever possible.

He’d asked servants, courtiers, even the stable master in case she’d decided to go out riding on her own. Nobody had seen her all day.

He even asked her ladies-in-waiting in desperation and received nothing in return but blank looks.

Apart from Lady Meg of course, who snorted indelicately and asked William what dreadfully foolish thing he’d said for his wife to be avoiding him.

William had glared at Meg, then given a nearby doorframe a little kick from embarrassment. She’d only giggled harder.

He now stood in front of a heavy wooden door, banging impatiently. "Tession! Are you in there?"

"Come in, Your Grace." the old man’s voice drifted out.

William swung the door open and stomped inside, scouring the cluttered room with his eyes before his shoulders slumped in disappointment. No sign of Camilla.

"Whatever is the matter, my young lord?"

Tession’s endlessly soothing voice had the exact opposite effect on William, making his twitchy sense of irritation even worse. "Stop calling me that! I’m not some child. I’m nearly one and twenty!" he grumbled.

"Very well then, my mature and distinguished lord. How may I be of service?"

William shot Tession a very hard stare. "Have you seen my wife?"

The old man shook his head. "Not since yesterday, when she was here to return a book. But if I see her, I’ll let her know you’re looking for her."

William grunted goodbye and walked out of the room. He was truly out of ideas on where to search, short of asking Queen Celia and Princess Blanche if Camilla was in either of their rooms. And that truly was an option of absolute last resort because it would unleash unwanted questions in his direction.

Especially because he still wasn’t sure what he’d said that was so terrible.

- - -

"Hey, Francis! I need to talk to you for a minute!"

Francis Lowell twisted around on the stone seating he was perched on, upon hearing his name being called out. He quickly saw Prince William striding across the western garden and heading in his direction.

Francis raised a hand from the dagger he was polishing, in friendly greeting. His smile faded however, when he saw William’s expression.

The prince’s brows were pulled together in a fierce frown. He had the look of a man that had just spent the afternoon wrestling with a beehive.

"Lucky me." Francis muttered.

"Have you seen my wife at all today?" William barked out.

Francis gave him a suspicious sideways glance. "Good afternoon to you also. And, no. Why would I be keeping tabs on your wife? Isn’t that your responsibility?"

William heaved himself on the stone seat next to him, cursing. Looking at him, Francis could feel a laugh gurgling in his own throat.

"Are you also going to cross your arms and stamp your feet like a child in a tantrum, Will? Or are you actually going to tell me what’s wrong?"

William turned to face him, as if about to yell. Instead, the prince breathed out slowly and asked an unexpected question.

"What do you do when you’re unsure if your wife’s angry at you?"

"What?" Francis blinked. "What the hell? Are you jesting with me?"

"Look at this fucking face. Does it look like a face that jests?"

"Alright, alright! Calm down, point taken." Francis hastily replied. "Tell me what happened."

William shifted restlessly on the stone bench, obviously not wanting to go into detail. "We were talking last night about our upcoming visit to the Marquis of Niarnol. It seemed to be going well. We even-"

Francis twitched a brow when William abruptly shut his mouth. "What makes you think she’s upset with you? Did she raise her voice, or pick a fight?"

"No..." William huffed in obvious frustration. "But I sensed it in the way her voice changed. Then she deliberately went to sleep as far away from me as possible, short of rolling off the bed and onto the floor. And she’s barely spoken to me since then."

"That doesn’t sound promising. You know her best, Will. Listen to your instincts. If they’re telling you that she’s upset, she probably is."

"Is that often the case with you and Anne?"

Francis chuckled. "Anne will be the first to admit that these days, she couldn’t hide being angry or sad or deliriously happy from me even if her life depended on it. Everything makes her emotional."

William looked puzzled until he obviously remembered that Anne was expecting a child in the autumn.

"I’d say the easiest way by far to find out is to just ask your wife. Then again, women often have this terrible habit of saying they’re fine when deep down, you know things are absolutely not fine." Francis gave the prince a confused little shrug.

"But I already asked Camilla last night, and she said she wasn’t angry with me."

"She actually said those words?"

"Yes." William nodded vigorously. "She said that she was just..."

"Just what?" Francis couldn’t resist prodding.

"She was just disappointed."

Upon hearing those four words, a roar of laughter erupted from Francis’s throat, followed by another. Will is going to kill me for laughing at his woes this way, he tried to tell himself.

Still, Francis couldn’t stop laughing uncontrollably. He could feel his eyes start to stream. "Holy hell, brother! What the fuck did you say to your wife? Because she doesn’t sound angry, she sounds fucking enraged!"

William stared at him, his eyes like chips of green ice. "Francis, when I tell you that you’re an ass, please know that I truly, truly mean it. With every fibre of my being."

Francis had started wheezing, taking in gulps of air between laughs. He leaned forward and pounded his own aching chest with a fist, then wiped his cheeks. "The princess is one of the sweetest tempered ladies I know. For her to be that furious...well, you must have a way with words."

Francis stood up and sheathed his dagger, clapping William fondly on the back. "Keep looking for you wife, my friend. And when you finally find her, you’ll be in my prayers."

- - -

William sat in his favourite armchair in his presence chamber, dressed for dinner and idly waiting for his wife’s return. Just before it was time to head to the banquet hall, Camilla swept through the doors, a book in her hand.

She looked startled to see him sitting there but she gave him a quick, tight smile and started heading towards the bedchamber.

"Where were you all day?" William asked, trying not to snarl.

"In His Majesty’s library." Her voice was cool.

The library, the one place he hadn’t thought to look. Goddamnit.

William stood and followed Camilla into their bedchamber, where he found her adjusting her jewelled headband in front of the mirror.

"Why are you avoiding me?" He figured he should just get to the point.

She didn’t even blink at the question, focused on her reflection. "I’m not. I’m heading down for dinner now. Are you joining me?"

"Not until you tell me why you’re avoiding me." William replied bluntly.

"Suit yourself." Camilla said in a detached voice as she languidly turned from the mirror and started gliding towards the door.

William grabbed her wrist and spun her around to face him. "You’re clearly angry with me. I want to know why." He tightened his grip when she tried to pull free.

"If you have to ask because you don’t know...well, I’m actually not sure what I find more infuriating. What you said in the first place or that you genuinely have no idea." Camilla glared up at him, eyes sparking. "Now, let go of my hand."

"No." To prove a point, William petulantly squeezed her wrist even harder, though he was careful to make sure he didn’t hurt her.

She could drive him to fury so fierce that he wanted to claw his hair out but at the same time, he wholeheartedly adored her. And there was something so fucking alluring about her when she stood so close to him, smelling so good and flushed with temper.

It was a strange dichotomy indeed, William thought. Maybe instead of going to the banquet hall, he could just take her dress off and torment her until she told him why she was angry.

Using the distraction of his own thoughts against him, Camilla wrenched her arm free from his grasp and darted for the door. Despite the high heels, she was surprisingly agile.

William caught up with her before she opened the presence chamber doors out to the corridor. "Why are you so determined to avoid me and go to dinner?"

"I have several important things to do. First and foremost, Queen Celia wishes to have a word with me." Camilla’s cool, soft voice was making him want to break things. "And secondly, there’s several men I should probably speak to, flirt with, dance with. In fact, maybe I should let them feed me dessert so I can lick the crumbs from their fingertips."

William almost keeled over from shock. "What the fuck did you say?"

"Don’t fret, husband. It’s no worse than what you expect me to do when we visit the marquis. And I’ll make sure I check with you beforehand, so that I’m only seducing men that help King Edward’s cause." Camilla smiled sweetly. "Aren’t you fortunate to have a wife that can be used as a valuable tool for the Crown of Islia?"