Earning the Love of a Princess-Chapter 211: A Weak Mind

22 March, 1361. Magdaline Castle, Islia

William knew from the moment that Magdaline Castle’s spires and towers came into their view, what was expected of them. Having been sent to complete a diplomatic mission for the crown meant that the minute they reached the castle, they had to go directly to King Edward’s presence chamber and announce their arrival. More than likely, the king would want to receive an immediate verbal report of their visit with the Marquis of Niarnol.

Only once they had spoken with the king and answered all of his questions to his satisfaction, would the two of them be permitted to to retire from his presence. Only then would they be allowed to eat, to bathe, to unpack and rest after their journey.

William was also very well aware that his wife had no intention of following the rules. He knew, like he knew his own name, that Camilla would go nowhere and speak to no one until she’d been reunited with their child.

He knew she’d never ever be convinced to do otherwise, so he didn’t even try. He couldn’t really blame her, either.

The moment the two of them cantered into the main entrance courtyard, Camilla leapt off her horse as nimbly as a wild hare. Not bothering to wait for William or a stable hand to help her dismount, she landed on her feet and immediately broke out into a run as she entered the castle.

Quickly dismounting himself, William threw the reins of his steed into the startled stable hand’s grip, along with some hurried instructions. He then chased after his wife, managing to catch up with her at the bottom of the central staircase.

"Wait, my girl!" he called out to her, laughing. "How the hell do you even move that quickly in those skirts?"

Camilla threw him a smile over her shoulder but didn’t slow down. She bounded up the stairs, with William following close on her heels.

The faces of surprised courtiers and servants came and went as William rushed up the stairs and down the corridors to the castle’s southern wing. Some gave hasty bows, others just stared in confusion at the sight of the young royal couple running past them and laughing like unruly children.

Camilla pushed open the door to the chamber next to their apartments, that William had instructed was to be set up as a nursery. Peering in behind her shoulder, he could see his orders had been followed.

One of the young nurses was sitting in a low armchair, Malcolm on her lap. The small boy had what looked like a figurine of a little knight in his hand, but promptly dropped it in the commotion of seeing and hearing two people tumbling through the doorway. For a split second, he looked startled. Then, his eyes caught sight of his mother and a joyful grin broke out across his little face.

Camilla swept the baby into her arms and buried her face in his neck, repeatedly kissing him and crooning in his ear. William stood back a little, feeling like he shouldn’t intrude on the pull between mother and child.

After a couple of moments, Camilla turned to face William with a smile. "Here you go." she said as she passed him his son.

William took the warm, sturdy little weight of the child into his arms. Malcolm looked up into his face with wide, guileless eyes and smiled, a smile of pure innocence that only the very young are capable of.

William couldn’t help but grin back, feeling a tight warmth start to ache in his chest. "How’s it possible to have missed you so much, my boy? When all you ever do is eat and cry?"

Malcolm gurgled as if replying, then reached up to grab a handful of his father’s hair and pulled it with surprising strength.

"Ow!" William yelped in surprise.

Malcolm burst out giggling and pulled another handful, clearly delighted by his reaction.

"Goddamn!" William stared accusingly at his wife, with a laugh. "The little knave is deliberately trying to wound me. Did you teach him that trick?" He carefully pried the plump little hand from his hair, which caused Malcolm to immediately start fussing.

Camilla gave him a puzzled frown. "Of course not! He’s a baby, not a dog you can train for tricks." The happy light in her eyes dimmed a little as she said softly, "You need to go and see the king now, don’t you?"

"Actually, we both do." William said, reluctantly handing the baby back to the nurse.

"Why would he want me present? I’m just a useless girl."

"Because you were the one who spoke with Ned and discovered everything that had been going on. The king will want to know every word and he’ll want to hear it from you." William half smiled. "And he’s no fool. He knows you’re far from useless."

Camilla eyed him flatly.

"If we tell him everything we know quickly, we"ll be dismissed and allowed to spend the rest of the afternoon with Malcolm." William coaxed.

He was relieved to finally see genuine happiness on Camilla’s face at his words. It was a contrast to the sorrow that had shadowed her eyes during the previous days.

Camilla nodded, accepting the logic of his words, and held out one of her dainty hands.

There truly is nothing sweeter than holding hands with my beautiful wife, William thought to himself as he entwined his fingers through hers and started leading her towards the king’s presence chamber.

- - -

William wasn’t exaggerating when he said his uncle rarely takes bad news well, Camilla thought to herself tiredly. She sat still and demure next to William as an enraged King Edward paced back and forth repeatedly across the chamber, barking out questions at speed to her. She answered each of them calmly, telling herself the flames in the king’s eyes weren’t really directed at her.

Well, at least I hope not. He should be wise enough to know that there’s little to gain from strangling the messenger, Camilla thought.

"Why would Ned Michal confess his father’s misdeeds to you? To someone he’d never even met?" King Edward barked for what had to be the third time.

Camilla kept her voice deferential, even though she was bored. "The two of us talked a lot over those days. He grew to trust me, I suppose. It’s not like he had anyone else to confide in, since everyone within Ferrenthor and throughout Islia had written him off as a degenerate fool."

"And what makes you think he was telling you the truth? That these weren’t the ramblings of a weak mind or a fanciful imagination?" Edward challenged, as if he were determined to catch her in a lie.

At that insult to a dead man, Camilla raised her eyes and stared hard at the king. "I know that wasn’t the case because Ned didn’t have a weak mind. He was one of the smartest, most perceptive men I’ve ever had the pleasure of meeting."

The king gaped at her, clearly taken aback by her cold tone.

Camilla softened her voice somewhat as William gave her hand a little squeeze of reassurance. She was speaking to her king, after all. She needed him to believe her and also to leave her head attached to her neck.

"It’s true that his feet were somewhat twisted. But there was nothing wrong with Ned’s mind." she continued quietly. "The marquis was clearly disappointed his second son wasn’t physically perfect like his first. But he was wrong to just dismiss him as useless. Despite having received barely any attention or education, Ned knew everything that went on."

"If that’s the case, the marquis would’ve been better off taking his tongue too. Yet he didn’t." the king said, pale eyes narrowed.

Camilla’s smile was bitter. "I asked Ned the very same thing, Sire. He said his father believed he was too foolish to understand the events around him, so he didn’t bother. It was just another example of the marquis underestimating his son."

King Edward stopped pacing and went silent as he pondered her words.

"And silencing his remaining heir would’ve definitely brought unwanted attention. The last thing Lord Michal wanted was strangers at his home, asking questions." she added.

"So we have no evidence of the marquis’s treason, then." Edward muttered.

"With his son dead and his servants silenced, no. We have no evidence beyond my word against his." Camilla shrugged. She didn’t need to point out how laughable that situation was. The word of a woman - a foreigner of the worst kind, no less! - against the word of a powerful man, before the royal judges. She’d be jeered out of the courtroom before she even opened her mouth.

King Edward started pacing again, fists clenched. The look on his face was one of fury mixed with impotence.

William squeezed her hand again and gave her a sympathetic smile. "No matter the outcome, you did the right thing letting His Majesty know."

"Yes, yes, of course." Edward flapped a hand about in an impatient gesture. "But knowledge about an enemy is no good if you can’t sharpen it into a weapon to use against him."