Earning the Love of a Princess-Chapter 45: Harp Strings
20 October, 1358. Westerhaven Palace, Islia
Camilla sat on a low stool on the floor of Queen Celia’s apartments, quietly strumming a harp. Due to a recent improvement in her health, the queen had once again started throwing the doors of her presence chamber to the court to welcome visitors during the day. Queen Celia enjoyed the company of young people and her rooms had quickly become one of the liveliest meeting places in the castle. Once again, the queen’s apartments had become a place of flirtation and music.
That day however, Camilla could tell the queen was feeling unwell, so she had offered to play a soothing tune for her. She hoped the music would help drown out the voices of Princesses Violet and Annabel bickering about some alleged misbehaviour by a maid.
William and a couple of other young men were sitting in the window seat, listening apathetically to the music and watching the relentless rain bouncing off the glass.
"Do you know a tune called ’Along Far Horizons’, Princess?" asked Queen Celia softly, her voice gruff with pain she was trying hard to suppress.
Camilla gave her a sympathetic look. "I’m sorry, Your Majesty but I don’t."
The queen gave a smile that was more of a grimace. "William knows it well. I’d like to hear it."
Camilla tried not to look surprised at the thought of the aggressive, boisterous young man knowing how to play as delicate an instrument as the harp.
William smiled affectionately at his aunt and approached the harp. Camilla stood up and offered him the stool next to it, then took a seat herself on a velvet floor cushion by the stool, her apricot coloured skirts fanned around her.
William took his place on the stool and started playing a lively tune, his hair falling across his forehead. In turn, Camilla watched his fingers move across the strings. For someone who spent his days wielding weapons, he had beautiful hands, strong and capable. She remembered those hands on her waist when they danced together, touching her as if she were made of the most fragile glass.
Camilla quickly dropped her eyes to her lap. What was she doing staring at a man’s hands?
When he finished his song, William bowed his head at Queen’s Celia’s applause. He gave up the seat by the harp to Camilla again and sat himself on the floor, long legs sprawling.
"I had no idea you could play." Camilla adjusted her skirts around herself.
"You mean you had no idea a sword swinging brute could handle a delicate instrument?" William pushed his hair back from his face.
She half smiled and nodded in agreement.
"Well, I can’t really play much. I only know how to play two or three tunes that I know Queen Celia loves." He looked a pensive for a moment and added, "I taught myself to play them when I was a boy, when I saw how much it made her smile. The harp is her favourite instrument you see, and none of her sons have ever learned to play it."
Camilla smiled at this admission. She found the thought of a young boy memorising tunes to play for his aunt, rather sweet. It made him seem somehow more vulnerable, like there was something softer hidden under his brash exterior. She remembered what he’d confessed to her a couple of weeks ago at the archery butts - that sometimes he didn’t want the attention of that came with being a prince.
She began to strum another tune, an old melody she remembered being played many times when her mother was still alive and vibrant.
William lay back on the floor with an arm behind his head and closed his eyes, a faint, relaxed smile on his face. Camilla noticed slight circles under his eyes.
Maybe he wasn’t as invincible as he acted.
- - -
Wlliam heaved himself up off the floor before he fell asleep on one of the queen’s priceless rugs. He would’ve liked to have stayed on the floor, stretched out at the princess’s feet and quietly listening to the soft music.
He realised what he really wanted to do was place his head on her lap and listen to her lilting voice while she ran her fingers through his hair. It was an odd thought. There had been many, many times that he’d craved a woman’s body, but this was the first time he remembered ever hungering for affection. It made no sense.
William sat down in the window seat next to his friends. Surveying the room, he saw the queen’s pale, strained face and made a mental note to speak to Tession about having another tonic made to help numb her pain.
"When I thought this day couldn’t get any more boring from being stuck inside, now we have to endure listening to funeral music for the rest of the afternoon." Richard complained in a low voice.
William chuckled. Richard was famously uncouth and didn’t even bother trying to hide it.
"Tom says there’s a decent brothel about five miles east of here. A few of us are going after dinner. What do you say, Will?" Richard whispered in his ear.
"In this rain though?" William murmured back, looking at the dark, heavy clouds. He knew the rain was just an excuse for not really wanting to go.
"To hell with the rain. The boredom will kill us first."
William had to agree the court had been a gloomy place this past week, partly because of the rain and partly because two days of royal mourning had ceased only yesterday for Rufus and Annabel’s child. The baby had recently died in her cradle but neither parent seemed particularly grief stricken. William had even overheard his cousin telling a couple of his companions he was determined to get a boy on his wife as quickly as possible.
"So are you joining us or not?" Richard’s elbow nudged the prince’s side.
William nodded. He needed something to snap him out of his current mood.
