Earning the Love of a Princess-Chapter 70: Subtle Blows

9 April, 1359. Magdaline Castle, Islia

"Do you ever think about going back to Moraigth, Your Grace? Surely you must miss it and yearn to return home." Princess Sarai’s question came out of the blue as a group of courtiers lounged on soft rugs laid across the grass. A springtime picnic had been arranged for the Haviettenese delegation, set amongst the blossoming yew trees.

As the guest of honour, Sarai had been allowed to choose who would be invited. She had insisted on Camilla being included on the guest list, though she hadn’t extended the invitation to Camilla’s ladies. This had made William suspicious, though he hadn’t known how to question it without sounding petty.

He could tell Camilla was also ill at ease. She sat quietly and only spoke when spoken to, eating little and shielding her eyes from the sun. He longed to speak with her and tell her he was sorry things between them had become so full of bitterness and tension. But as the days passed, the silence between them seemed more and more impossible to overcome.

William had to admit that so far, Princess Sarai had been courteous enough. Still, a niggling feeling wouldn’t let him drop his guard completely. He peered at Camilla out of the corner of his eye, while acting as if he couldn’t care less whether she answered or not.

Camilla looked thoughtful and pushed a lock of hair behind her ear before she finally replied to Sarai. "The home that I miss no longer exists, Your Highness. I think too much has changed." She gave a wistful smile. "I do miss the blackberries that grew wild around my childhood castle, though. There were also white truffles in abundance, which I loved."

"You still think fondly of Arlen Castle? I must admit I’m quite surprised to hear that."

Furrowing her brow, Camilla asked, "Why are you surprised, Your Grace? Don’t you have a special fondness for the place where you grew up, even if it no longer exists?"

William’s mouth suddenly turned dry and unease rippled through him. He sensed the darker undertone in Sarai’s seemingly pleasant conversation. He opened his mouth to speak but Sarai’s voice rang out first.

"Oh yes, of course I do. I just would’ve expected such a great betrayal occurring to have ruined your memories of Arlen." Sarai purred sweetly. "Then again, you must be a more forgiving soul than me."

"What betrayal are you referring to?" Camilla stared blankly at Sarai.

"Your father’s, of course." Sarai widened her eyes for emphasis, all pretend innocence. "The betrayal that lead to his defeat and death."

"Let’s change the subject, shall we?" William interjected.

Richard snickered. "What’s the problem, Will? Are you worried that a little stroll down memory lane will spoil your appetite?"

Camilla ignored both of the men and turned her gaze solely on the other princess. "I don’t understand, Your Highness. My father’s rebellion resulted in a battle against my uncle and yes, he was defeated. But he wasn’t betrayed by anyone."

"Oh, but he was." Sarai gave a catty little giggle. "You poor thing. Were you told by everyone that he died heroically, fighting your uncle’s knights or the Islians? He was actually killed by his own men, in his own castle. His soldiers realised his cause was lost so they beat him and left him hanging from the rafters of his bedchamber, for the Islian soldiers to then find."

"What?" Camilla breathed.

"I’m told his men even put a little crown and cape on his dead body." Sarai giggled again. "I guess that makes you the daughter of a crowned king as well, doesn’t it? And I’m told your brother Malcolm met his end the same way, left hanging from a tree."

There was an audible gasp from the guests. William closed his eyes in quiet horror. Francis started to choke and cough on a piece of sugared fruit. Even Sarai’s ladies-in-waiting were wide eyed with shock.

"Who told you all these terrible lies?" Camilla’s face had turned ashen.

Sarai waved her arm to gesture across the group. "They’re not lies. Ask anyone here. I believe these are the very men that found the duke hanging in Arlen Castle."

Richard shook his head and started chuckling.

"I can’t believe no one here thought to tell you the truth." Sarai continued in her sickly sweet manner. "Then again, I guess they were trying to protect you from the deep shame of being the daughter of such a man, considering you’re already an unwanted guest at this court."

Camilla said nothing, she just stood up and walked away. Soon, she had disappeared down the path through the grove of trees that lead back to the castle.

William kept his expression unchanged, as if he wasn’t utterly disgusted by what Princess Sarai had just done. "As I said before, I have no appetite for this subject." he said mildly. "A picnic is hardly the place to discuss battles and war losses."

He then whispered under his breath so softly that only Francis sitting beside him would hear, "Quickly. Follow her and make sure she’s alright."

Francis stood up and quietly left the picnic.

Sarai paid no attention, of course. She considered it beneath her rank to notice what someone as insignificant as Francis did. She was instead looking at William with a malicious sparkle in her eye, as if waiting for him to find her actions amusing.

He knew that if he reacted, he would end up tearing Sarai into strips and likely reduce her to tears. She deserved it and more for her hateful actions. But William knew such a reaction would draw the king’s wrath not only over his head but also likely over Camilla’s. William refused to give the little Haviettenese bitch the satisfaction of responding. Instead, he poured himself more ale and sipped it as he pretended to stare peacefully across the manicured lawns.

For the first time in his life, he was possessed by the urge to strike a woman.