Earning the Love of a Princess-Chapter 37: Late Summer Flowers

16 September, 1358. Magdaline Castle, Islia

Camilla watched as Katerine finished securing the flower crown to Elizabeth’s head, admiring the result. They had chosen dahlias in different shades of orange, to complement the bride’s dark hair and rust coloured velvet gown.

"You look beautiful, Bess." Camilla smiled at the nervous girl and squeezed her shoulders reassuringly. Meg and Katerine nodded in agreement.

The quartet of ladies were crammed into the bedchamber shared by Meg, Katerine and Elizabeth, though Elizabeth would be moving that very night into her new husband’s rooms. There was sadness over the ladies being separated in their living quarters but Camilla was grateful Elizabeth’s betrothed was based at court, and was happy for Elizabeth to continue as her lady-in-waiting.

Camilla knew that Elizabeth’s betrothed had every right to demand his bride be placed in the service of a more prestigious mistress than a royal pariah.

However, ever since the court of Moraigth had announced the birth of a daughter to the royal couple instead of the much longed for son, Camilla was well aware her own value had risen. It was ironic that neither she nor her uncle had any wish for her to be heiress to the Moraigthian throne, yet it was out of both of their controls.

The same throne my father and brothers died for, Camilla thought bitterly. The irony of it all.

She shook her head to clear it of dark thoughts. It wasn’t the day for it. She was determined to enjoy Elizabeth’s wedding and be a supportive friend to her.

- - -

The ceremony in the main chapel was small but Camilla found it lovely. Given the groom was the youngest son of a moderately powerful earl, no one expected the king or queen to attend. But Camilla was glad that this meant the wedding breakfast would be less formal. She noticed Prince Rufus as one of the guests, as he was a childhood friend of the groom. Next to the prince stood a pallid looking young woman in a heavily embroidered blue dress, who she assumed was Rufus’s long suffering wife. Camilla had never met Princess Annabel but heard she had recently returned to court after delivering a daughter. Rufus had made his great disappointment on the baby’s gender well known.

The guests threw flower petals at the married couple as they walked walked up the aisle, arm in arm. Lord Archibald Taunsen was a broadly built man with a gentle demeanour and a friendly smile. He seemed fond of his new wife and Elizabeth no longer looked quite as nervous. Camilla was glad to see her friend with a man who looked kind.

The wedding breakfast was held in one of the smaller halls that spilled out into the eastern gardens. Camilla observed quietly as the toasts were made and the roast meats were cut and served. She noticed, with wry amusement, that men who had refused to speak to her for months, were now clamouring to offer her food from their own plates.

The perks of being an heiress, she supposed.

Once the main plates were cleared, bowls of sugared plums were placed on the tables and the musicians began playing. Camilla watched as Elizabeth was whirled around firstly by her new husband and then by the other male guests. In Islia, it was considered good luck for an unwed man to dance with a bride and luckier still to kiss her. Elizabeth took all the pecks she received on the lips in good humour.

She noticed Princes Thomas and William joining the festivities part way through. Thomas was either in high spirits or already drunk, Camilla guessed by the way he dramatically bent the bride backwards over his arm to kiss her. He then joined the dancing with enthusiasm.

William, however, seemed distant and distracted by other thoughts. While he embraced the groom and politely kissed the bride, he spoke little and stood against a column while nursing a cup of wine, eyes narrowed.

Camilla gave him a tentative smile but he seemed to look right through her. He had started treating her a little less coldly before departing for the campaign but he was now clearly back to ignoring her. She’d never understood what she’d done to offend him.

His whole manner was colder and harder, his face leaner. His hair was sun-bleached and had grown longer around his tanned face. Camilla snuck looks at him through her lashes while he danced with Katerine, then Meg. She remembered what Tession had once said about the prince rarely being truly happy.

"Dance with me, Princess?" a deep voice purred in her ear. She turned to find herself almost face to face with Prince Rufus. She hesitantly nodded and let him lead her out.

"You have become quite a marriage prize yourself, Your Grace." Rufus observed as he guided her across the floor.

Camilla gave him a thin smile. "To be honest, it doesn’t change much for me, my lord. Inheritances can be won or lost with the flip of a coin. And I still have no expectations of marriage bringing me joy."

Rufus threw his head back and laughed. "Silly girl. One doesn’t marry for joy, trust me."

"Shhhhh!" Camilla looked around nervously as she knew Rufus’s wife was nearby. He drew her closer.

Camilla tried to pull away slightly, being well aware of the prince’s rather flexible morals. Too late, she noticed the couple next to them were Princess Annabel and Prince William. Annabel’s face was flushed red and she aimed a harsh stare at Camilla. As she opened her mouth, Camilla braced herself for an angry stream of words.

Sighing, Rufus let Camilla go and grabbed his wife by the elbow, quickly guiding her away from the rest of the dancers before she could create a scene.

Left standing next to William, Camilla looked up at him awkwardly. He looked nonplussed, as if he’d rather be somewhere else. His eyes raked up and down Camilla’s body and she saw him grimace slightly. Then he abruptly walked away before she could say anything to him.