Earning the Love of a Princess-Chapter 201: We Meet Again
11 March, 1361. Ferrenthor Manor, Marquessate of Niarnol, Islia
The sun was almost at its zenith when the riding party of the Prince and Princess of Islia arrived at the gates of Ferrenthor. Camilla slowed her mare down, taking the time to look at the large and handsome grey stone manor set amongst beautiful parkland.
Their small group had ridden for hours through the Marquessate, past extensive fields and tidy looking little hamlets. It was only then that Camilla began to truly appreciate what a wealthy vassal Lord Michal was. No wonder King Edward was eager to keep him on side. 𝚏𝕣𝐞𝗲𝐰𝕖𝐛𝐧𝕠𝕧𝚎𝚕.𝐜𝚘𝗺
William pulled his horse up next to hers as they reached the grand manor gates and were met by a row of servants. "I’m hoping having a new wife has made Lord Michal a less miserable soul. But if it hasn’t, I apologise in advance. The next few days could be on the boring side."
"Do you really think that might be the case? That marriage could’ve cheered him, I mean." Camilla asked.
"A man can hope, can’t he? But probably not. The new marchioness would need to be an utter saint to make the man’s smile. She definitely couldn’t be a spirited little wench like you." William hopped down from his stallion and smiled up at Camilla as he helped her dismount. "At the very least, I hope the entire manor isn’t still draped in black, like it was the last time I was here."
"Was that on your way home from the Moraigthian battles?" she asked, elbowing his ribs for teasing her.
"Yes and despite everything I’ve said about him, I can’t fault the marquis’s hospitality." William pushed his hair back from his face. "He generously opened up his home to us back then, despite being in mourning for his son. King Edward had taken ill and the rest of us were exhausted, half starved wrecks."
Having gently set her on the ground. William squeezed her fingers and smiled down at her. "Let’s do what we need to do here so we can return home and to our son as quickly as possible, alright?"
Camilla nodded in agreement.
An aged steward in a long grey tunic approached them at the entry doors and bowed. Indicating they should follow him, he quietly led the couple down a long corridor decorated in gold flecked tapestries. Camilla assumed they were being taken to their guest quarters, so that they could wash and rest after their journey. Instead, they were led into a small but elegant reception room, elaborately panelled in oak. Stepping inside, William and Camilla were greeted with a bow by the Marquis of Niarnol himself.
William greeted the marquis warmly, clasping his hand. "My lord, it has been a while. May I present you to my wife, Princess Camilla. My dear, this is Lord Elias Michal."
"A pleasure, my lord." she replied politely as the marquis took her hand, bowing over and kissing it in a show of exaggerated gallantry.
The marquis was a stocky, middle aged man with a protruding belly and bushy dark beard. Camilla recalled having seen him at court once or twice, during her first weeks at Magdaline Castle.
Raising his gloomy eyes at her, he nodded and replied, "The pleasure is all mine, Your Highness. My marchioness awaits us for a meal in the walled garden. I shall lead you there now, where we can dine in comfort."
Camilla nodded and let herself be led away on the marquis’s arm. William followed them, a relaxed expression on his face.
Lord Michal lead then down corridors decorated with rich carpets and galleries full of sculptures. Despite the rich surroundings, Camilla felt a quiet, oppressive sadness everywhere they walked. Everyone spoke little and the servants scurried by with their heads bowed low. There was none of the cheerful chatter Camilla was used to.
She supposed it was a result of the elder Michal son having died. If I lost Malcolm, Camilla thought, it would create a wound that would never heal, and that’s with him only being a few months old. How much more painful would it be to lose a child that you’d spent so many years raising and caring for?
Eventually, the three of them reached the edge of a large, manicured garden, surrounded by grey stone walls. The marquis led them down a short flight of stone steps and into a wide, shady pavilion draped in lush vines.
"Wife! The prince and princess are here." the marquis called out in a deep, resonant voice.
Camilla’s eyes were immediately drawn to the slim woman standing at the far end of the pavilion, wearing a heavy veil and bent forward in a bow. As she straightened, the slightly bored expression on the young marchioness’s face twisted firstly in recognition when she looked at William and Camilla, then in dismay.
Camilla’s gaze met a pair of blue eyes filled with shock. Behind her, she heard William chuckle heartily.
"Ah, Marchioness. We meet again." William’s voice was ringing with amusement. "How have you been, my lady Sarai?"
- - -
The afternoon meal was a stilted affair, to say the least. The two ladies kept exchanging uncomfortable glances. Lord Michal, at least, seemed oblivious. Instead, he spoke nonstop in a mournful tone about all the tragedies that had befallen him - the loss of his eldest son, a less than impressive harvest the previous autumn, the gout in his feet.
Sitting straight and stiff in her plush chair, Camilla wished herself anywhere else but in that garden.
Good lord, the Princess of Havietten looks ready to spear me in the heart with the carving knife, Camilla mused. Then again, she’s no longer a princess, is she?
A woman could only rise and fall with her husband, including mirroring his station in life. With her marriage, Sarai’s rank had been downgraded to that of a marchioness. I suppose it’s just one more reason for her to hate me, Camilla sighed. In her mind, she should’ve always been the next Islian princess, not me.
Of course, William sat at Camilla’s side and seemed to find the entire situation amusing. He chatted happily with the marquis as he ate, praising the food, the quality of the wine, even cheekily congratulating the marquis on finding wedded felicity again.
Camilla kicked him under the table. William blithely ignored her, then leaned over swiftly to peck her cheek.
Lord Michal grimaced, then stated, "The sole purpose of marriage is children, sons in particular. I will feel content only when more children arrive, Your Grace."
Sarai’s face turned pink at her husband’s blunt words. "We’ve only been married a year, my lord. There is ample time-"
"For you, perhaps, wife. Not for me!" the marquis rumbled dramatically. "I pray every night to survive long enough to be able to hand over my lands to a worthy heir, not the wastrel that is Ned!"
"Ah yes, Ned." William said cheerfully. "How’s the boy doing these days?"
Sarai ignored William and stared hard at her husband, her temper obviously rankled by his tone. He glared back, beard quivering. It was almost as if the two of them had forgotten the presence of their royal guests.
Camilla clutched the skirt of her gown in discomfort as she remembered the many times in Port Canfirth when she’d heard her uncle and aunt shouting at each other. It was all she could do back then, to stop herself from watching in horrified fascination. She’d never understood how the rest of the courtiers managed to just ignore it and placidly go about their business.
Is there anything worse than being stuck in the middle of others’ marital strife, Camilla asked herself?
Unless you’re William, she answered her own question sourly. Just look at him, sipping his wine and watching the whole thing as if he’s enjoying a jester’s play.
"We still have time on our side." Sarai replied to Lord Michal in a sharp voice. "The Prince and Princess of Islia here have been married for longer than us, yet do you see them travelling with any children of their own?"
Camilla tensed. Please don’t say anything, she silently begged her husband with a pointed stare. Please don’t get us involved in another couple’s quarrel.
"Well, actually..." William smiled.
Camilla gave him her most ferocious sideways look, cursing his endless love of troublemaking. He looked back at her innocently before continuing his reply.
"...we do have a little boy. His name is Malcolm and he’s with his wet nurse and the rest of the court on progress, heading north. Everyone says he looks like me, except he smiles a lot." William grinned as he continued cutting into his venison. "We’ll be reunited with him at Magdaline Castle within a couple of weeks."
"Oh." was all Sarai could say. The expression on her face was one of having to swallow glass.
If there had been broken glass around, Camilla would’ve gladly used a shard to cut open her own throat. She could feel herself blushing hotly.
"You married a lady both fair of face and bountiful of womb." Lord Michal turned to William and spoke in his grave tones. "Fortune smiles upon you, Your Grace."
"Can we please find another topic - literally any other topic - to discuss over our meal besides the bountiful nature of my womb?" Camilla muttered.
William started choking on a mouthful of wine at her words. Camilla clapped him hard on the back. Hastily swallowing, he threw his head back, his boyish laughter filling the pavilion.
Even the marquis cracked a solemn smile.
