Earning the Love of a Princess-Chapter 56: No Love Lost

11 January, 1359. Westerhaven Palace, Islia

Cold, steady rain fell the morning of Prince Thomas’s wedding to Lady Eleanor De Buer. It was uncomfortably warm in the crowded chapel however, the scent of candles mixing with incense. Camilla waited quietly with the rest of the guests for the bride’s arrival.

It had struck her as odd for a royal wedding to be scheduled so soon after Twelfth Night. Then again, the rumour amongst the courtiers was that King Edward himself had insisted on holding the wedding earlier than planned to prevent his son from finding a way to wheedle out of it.

Looking down the aisle to where Prince Thomas stood, looking like a prisoner awaiting execution, Camilla suspected there was some truth to the rumour. The king and queen sat under the canopy of state, both wearing tight, grim smiles.

Camilla had attended a few weddings in her time, most arranged for political reasons. Yet none of those weddings had been as cheerless as this one. Palpable tension rippled through the guests.

Even the groom’s companions, known for being the most jovial group of young men, were subdued. Camilla noticed Prince William tapping his foot with impatience in the pew and eyeing Prince Thomas as if he expected him to bolt at any moment.

Perhaps William was thinking about his own wedding in the near future, she mused. With all their sons now married, the king and queen would inevitably turn their attentions to their nephew and try to secure a lucrative match for him. Perhaps he would be as unlucky in love as his cousins.

Of King Edward’s four sons, only Prince James was happily wed. The emotions between the other princely couples ranged from polite indifference to outright hostility.

Lost in her thoughts, Camilla barely paid attention when Lady Eleanor was escorted down the aisle by her proud father. The vows were exchanged and sealed with a perfunctory kiss. As the newly wedded couple walked up the aisle under a shower of birdseed and led their guests towards the wedding breakfast, no one could miss the groom’s stony expression or the bride’s grimace.

The wedding banquet itself was a large, lavish affair in the great hall, befitting of a king’s son. Endless platters of sumptuous food were distributed and barrels of the king’s favourite sweet wine were opened with abandon.

Camilla cast her mind back to the wedding of her lady-in-waiting Elizabeth to Sir Archibald a few months earlier. Even though Bess’s wedding had been smaller and simpler, Camilla found it far lovelier in comparison. The bride and groom had been genuinely fond of each other, and their guests had been able to share in their happiness.

Camilla struggled to keep a straight face when she watched the newlyweds step out to lead the dancing. Prince Thomas looked almost repulsed when he was forced to link hands with his new wife. Next to her, she saw Prince William cover his mouth and turn away.

Their eyes briefly met before Camilla hastily looked elsewhere. Seeing William trying not to laugh threatened to make her burst into giggles, which would definitely displease the king and queen.

- - -

The floor of the great hall was soon crowded with dancers. The groom, however, sat morosely at the table of honour and refused to join his guests.

"Tom. You can’t sit here all night looking like you want to strike someone. You know your father will treat it as an insult and punish you for it." pleaded Robin Sainsbury.

"If you don’t wish to dance with your wife, at least go dance with a few pretty ladies. None will refuse you when you’re the groom." added Francis Lowell.

Thomas remained sitting down, stubborn as a mule.

At the mention of pretty ladies, William looked across the dance floor and instantly spotted Princess Camilla being whirled around by the Haviettenese ambassador, Viscount Nadrim.

A few minutes later, the same ambassador from the Kingdom of Havietten stopped by at the table to pay his respects.

"My most sincere congratulations on your day, Your Highness." The ambassador bowed low. "You have captured a very valuable woman to wife."

Thomas grunted in vague acknowledgement.

"Are you having a pleasant time, Viscount Nadrim?" Prince James quickly asked, trying to distract from his younger brother’s lack is manners.

"I am having a wonderful time, Your Grace. How can I not when I have my pick of so many lovely dance partners?" The viscount was a handsome man between thirty and forty years. As such, he was very popular with the court ladies.

"None prettier than the Princess of Moraigth though, I must say." Viscount Nadrim added, taking a small sip from the goblet offered to him.

Richard Bentworth snorted. "She’s a little young for you, isn’t she, Ambassador? Besides, she doesn’t have a coin to her name." Viscount Nadrim had only been in Islia for a few months but already, everyone at court knew of his enormous lust for wealth.

"Lord Bentworth, I shall set aside your comments about my age. And I suspect a young lady like the Moraigthian princess would bring a husband great rewards, without needing to have a single coin." The double meaning in the viscount’s words was unmissable. "Besides, you’re wrong that she brings no wealth. I have no doubt that when the princess is married, her uncle will provide her with a handsome dowry."

"Why would he do that? King Kenneth cares nothing for his niece."

"And precisely for that reason, he’ll give her a royal dowry. He wants his throne to pass down his own line, not the line of his hated half brother. One of his conditions to any man who marries his niece will almost certainly be that the princess renounces her place in the succession and never sets foot in her native land again." Viscount Nadrim finished his wine and stood up.

"My congratulations again, Prince Thomas. May fortune continue to bless you." With a final bow, the ambassador turned in the direction of the dance floor.

After a couple of moments of awkward silence, Tom tipped his head to the side, slurring slightly. "Huh. Maybe I should’ve convinced Father to let me marry Princess Camilla instead of Eleanor."

Everyone at the table turned to stare at the groom in surprise.