Earning the Love of a Princess-Chapter 225: Blissful Ignorance
22 October, 1361. Westerhaven Palace, Islia.
William clumsily shoved his hair back from his face and stretched out in the bed as he gradually woke up. He was usually in the habit of rising before dawn. Today, however, was a rare day when he didn’t have any training to oversee or urgent paperwork to attend to. Instead, he was determined to take his time waking up and enjoy lying next to his wife who was tucked up against him.
The same wife who in the very next moment, sat up and then bolted out of bed, startling him.
William raised himself on his elbows in confusion. "Camilla? What are you doing?" he called out, his voice rough with sleep.
No response. He heard a faint sound from their dressing room.
He then heard her starting to retch and heave. Ugh. "Do you need anything?" he asked, sitting up properly.
"No." More retching.
"Is there anything at all I can do for you right now?"
"Yes! You can take over this part of pregnancy for me." Even when battling nausea, his wife’s wit wasn’t dimmed.
William chuckled, climbing out of bed and pulling on the trousers he’d discarded the previous night. Eventually Camilla walked slowly back into the bedchamber, shaking, her face nearly as white as the silk robe she’d wrapped herself in.
She allowed him to gently lead her back onto the bed. William handed her a cup of spiced ale.
Camilla took a sip, before she grimaced. "Yuck. This tastes awful."
"Does it?" William took back the cup and tasted it himself, shaking his head. "It seems fine to me."
Camilla sighed. "There will be nothing wrong with the ale. It’s just me. A lot of things taste different when you’re with child. It’s another delightful trial to endure."
"What? Wait...what? Food and drink tastes different to you?"
"Not all but some, yes. You may now stop staring at me with such morbid curiosity, husband." Camilla grumpily crossed her arms across her chest.
"Sorry." William muttered, trying to look more serious. "I...I just had no idea." He realised - part fearful, part fascinated - that he was facing the next several months with no idea what to expect from his wife. He knew what she’d look like and what she’d go through at the very end, but the rest was a mystery to him.
"How long will the nausea last?" he asked, fearing her answer.
Camilla shrugged weakly. "With Malcolm, it was for the first six months or so. After a bit of trial and error, Tession was able to prepare a tonic that helped me a great deal and allowed me to eat more. I’m hoping if I take his remedy earlier this time, I’ll manage better."
William perked up at the thought of the old healer being able to help. "I can go see him now and ask him to prepare whatever he did last time. I assume he already knows?"
"Knows what?"
"That you’re with child again."
Camilla blinked at his as if he’d asked a very silly question. "Of course he doesn’t. Only the two of us know."
"Really? Why is that?"
"Because, my love." Camilla patted his cheek in amusement. "Who else would I tell first if not you?"
William felt himself reddening when he realised his question was a fairly silly one.
- - -
Tession looked up from the notes he was scribbling when he heard the knock at his door. "Come in." he called out, knowing even before the door swung open, who was going to be on the other side of it. Only one of his visitors had that sharp, hurried way of knocking.
A moment later, Prince William strode into the small library. For a moment, Tession was taken back several decades, to a young Prince Johan. Although a decidedly less hostile and wild tempered Johan, he conceded.
"Good morning, my lord prince." he smiled. "How have you been?"
William aimed a quick, distracted smile in his direction. "Camilla said you prepared some kind of tonic when she was expecting Malcolm and it stopped her feeling nauseous? I need more of it. Do you have any already made I can give her? And how quickly can you make more?"
Tession stared up at William for a moment, digesting his rapid questions, before the pieces of the puzzle came together in his mind. "Are you saying Her Grace is with child again?"
"That’s what she’s told me. And she’s spent most of the morning sick as a dog."
Tession nodded, almost smiling at William’s typically blunt description. The boy never did learn to polish his manner of speaking. His words had gotten him into scrapes all his life.
"I don’t have any of it right now as Her Grace found it worked better when it was freshly prepared. I have the ingredients listed somewhere here..." The old man stood and started flipping through the pages of a black, leather bound volume on the corner of his cluttered desk. "Ah, here it is. I already have everything I need to prepare it. If you return before sundown, I shall have a few vials prepared by then. In the meantime, tell your wife to eat plain fruit and bread. She should avoid exerting herself until she’s able to eat more."
William nodded. "Thank you, old friend. I’ll return before dinner is served." He turned on his heel to leave again.
"Wait!" Tession called out. "A word please, my lord."
"What is it?" William looked back, a lack of tension or anger in his voice. He sounded suspiciously calm to the old healer.
"You’re pleased to be having another child then, my lord?" Tession asked, not sure how else to word the question. "I only ask because with your elder son...well-"
William smiled faintly. "I’m not going to throw another tantrum, if that’s what you’re asking. Receiving the news this time isn’t such a shock."
"So you’re content?"
William opened his mouth and then closed it, seeming to hesitate. He leaned his shoulder against the wall before he replied. "To be honest Tession, I’m fucking terrified. All I want is for Camilla to remain strong and healthy throughout. Part of me wishes I’d never seen what goes on when a child is born so that I could just continue in blissful ignorance. I swear the images from that night are seared into my mind."
Tession slowly nodded. For a man, especially in the upper echelons of Islian society, to accompany his wife during her labour, was very rare indeed. Then again, William was always happy enough to ignore conventions when they didn’t align with what he believed was right.
"But I don’t think it’s fair to just shut my eyes to what goes on. I can’t help my wife if I’m ignorant about what she experiences." William continued. "So to answer your question, I’m not troubled at the thought of raising another child. Malcolm is a wonderful little boy. I’m only troubled by the risk to Camilla’s health. So anything I can do to help make things easier for her, I’ll do it."
Tession continued nodding, marveling at the changes in William brought about by his marriage. While he’d always cared for the young prince, Tession had secretly despaired of him ever find lasting happiness in love. He’d assumed that his initial passion for the Moraigthian girl would wane after a couple of tumbles with her, like it had with other women William had pursued.
Instead, the opposite had happened. The fierce bond between the couple was something regarded with disbelief and a fair amount of envy by the Islian court. 𝕗𝚛𝚎𝚎𝐰𝗲𝗯𝗻𝚘𝚟𝚎𝗹.𝕔𝐨𝕞
"Childbirth is inherently risky." Tession said gently. "But the princess has many people around her that will be happy to care for her over the next months. I’ll be glad to help where I can. And when her time comes, she’ll have the royal midwives..." The old man’s voice faded to nothing when he saw the terrifying rage that filled the prince’s eyes.
Again, all Tession could think of was Johan in one of his uncontrollable furies that would sweep like an inferno.
William didn’t begin yelling, to his credit. But his voice was tight with anger when he spoke between clenched teeth. "Tession, that’s something else I’ll need your help with. Camilla will need new midwives. How would we go about finding suitable ones before June?"
"But why...well, I could make enquiries around the local villages. Wherever babies are born, there will always be a woman nearby who the mothers will trust. What, uh, what exactly are you seeking in a midwife, if I may be so bold to ask?" Tession eased his frame back onto his timber stool.
"Women who will actually care for my wife, not just ignore her pain and yell at her for taking so long. Women who won’t just treat her as some foreign brood mare that no one really cares if she lives or dies. Because, old friend, I can promise you I care a great deal about that."
