Earning the Love of a Princess-Chapter 85: Flashback: Mind Your Manners

14 September, 1354. Arlen Castle, Moraigth

Camilla followed Daniel and Malcolm through the forest, carefully stepping over the uneven ground and fallen branches.

Summer had always been her favourite time of year, particularly towards the end, when the white truffles she adored came into season. They grew in the local forest, if only you knew where to look.

Luckily, Camilla did. Scouring the forest for truffles had been a favourite pastime of hers for as long as she could remember. Even better, Daniel liked truffles but didn’t love them the way Camilla did, so he was always happy to share his findings with her.

Seeing the rusty coloured mops of hair belonging to her brothers in the near distance, Camilla looked up through the tree canopy as the sun was blotted out by a cloud. She prayed the rain would hold off until the evening. Otherwise, she knew her brothers would march her back into the castle.

They’re allowed to ride and joust and fight even in the hail and snow, she thought resentfully. But if I get so much as a few raindrops on me, my maids scream as if disaster has struck. Just because I was born a girl.

Camilla looked down at her attire and imagined her nursemaid Agatha wailing in despair. She was wearing one of her plainest hunting dresses, the one that needed darning along a sleeve. She had pulled it on without much thought that morning, excited at the prospect of going truffle hunting after days of relentless drizzle. Not only was her dress plain, it was splattered with mud and dirt. She and Malcolm had been stomping around in puddles earlier, laughing nonstop as they tried to see who could splash the other the most.

"Sister! This way!" Malcolm’s voice sounded distant.

She started following his voice when she felt a raindrop land on her face, then another. Camilla bit back a very unladylike curse. Their expedition was about to be cut short because someone, in their infinite wisdom, thought a princess shouldn’t be caught out in the rain.

Straining her ears, she heard Malcolm’s voice calling out again, though it was very faint and she couldn’t make out his words. She knew he’d just be yelling that it was time to head back indoors. Sighing, she gathered the hem of her dirty skirt and started stomping back in the direction of Arlen Castle.

In that moment, a flock of birds fluttered violently out of a tree above, the sound of their wings and high pitched cooing creating an explosion of movement and sound. Camilla looked up, as startled as the birds.

Shrugging, she kept walking, familiar with the forest. It wouldn’t be long before the imposing outer walls of Arlen Castle came into sight.

There was suddenly rustling and the low murmur of masculine voices not far behind her. Camilla turned around, surprised her brothers had caught up to her so quickly. But it wasn’t them.

Instead, three men in rough spun clothing stood there, each with a bow and a quiver of arrows.

Camilla quickly deduced they were illegal hunters.

Though the forests south on Arlen Castle technically belonged to Duke Robert exclusively, finding peasants hunting for game amongst the trees wasn’t uncommon. Duke Robert took a fairly lenient view of the crime and rarely persecuted those caught trespassing.

Camilla gave the men a polite nod and started walking towards home again. She stopped when she heard one of them speak.

"What’s the hurry, little maid?" The man’s voice held the broad accent of the local countryside. "We’re heading to Morgann Vie. Do you know the right direction? Seems we’ve gotten ourselves a little lost along the way."

Camilla knew Morgann Vie was a village about ten or so miles from Arlen but unsure in which direction. The men’s accents sounded like those of the surrounding villagers, though. Surely as locals, they’d know their way around the area. How could they have gotten themselves this lost?

She scanned their faces. The three were smiling but there was something in their smiles that didn’t seem quite right.

It reminded her vaguely of a time a couple of years ago, when one of the stable hands had tried unsuccessfully to convince her to climb up into the hayloft with him. She’d known the youth, Bronson, all her life. He’d told her there was a surprise waiting up there for her and she’d felt bad refusing to join him. But despite not wanting to sound impolite, there had been something in Bronson’s smile that had made her feel unsettled.

It was the same unsettling prickle that formed in her belly now. She looked at the men hesitantly. "I’m sorry but I’m not sure what the best direction would be to point you."

The tallest of the men spoke, smiling wider. "Perhaps you can guide us there on foot then, miss. You must know this area well." He was missing a front tooth, which gave him a sinister air.

Camilla shook her head. "I’m not allowed to leave the area - and my brothers will be looking for me soon."

"Aww come, little maid." the man with sandy blonde hair coaxed. "We’d enjoy your company. And on the way there, we could show you all the best places for finding more truffles."

Camilla asked quietly, "But how would you know the best places if you’re lost?" The prickle of unease in her belly grew into an ache.

At that, the smiles disappeared from the men’s faces. The air between them grew tense. The poachers glanced at each other, then glowered at her.

The tallest of the men rumbled. "You think you’re smarter than us, then?"

"No..."

"Then come with us." The man’s voice now sounded a little sharper.

"I can’t. My brothers-"

"You don’t have brothers. You’re making that up." the tall man snapped.

"I’m not! I have three of them! My father will be expecting me home as well."

"And where is this father of yours?" asked one of the men tauntingly. "He can’t be too worried about your welfare if he lets you roam the forest alone."

Camilla pointed in the general direction of home. "He’s in the castle."

She heard the sandy haired man mutter, "A castle servant or labourer. He shouldn’t cause us much trouble."

Annoyed, irrational pride pinched at her. "My father is the duke!"

At this, the three men burst out laughing, much to Camilla’s confusion. "Oh aye! It’s obvious. Your father is Duke Robert!" One man elbowed another in the ribs. "To think that all this time, we thought we were speaking to a little urchin when we were really in the presence of royalty!"

Camilla dropped the basket she had been carrying and wrapped her arms around herself defensively, embarrassed about looking so dirty. "It’s the truth." Her voice was small.

The men were now approaching her slowly, backing her towards a pair of large trees. "Don’t be afraid. We won’t hurt you, maid. Or shall I say, Your Highness!" Their cackling laughter scared her.

"Step away from her. Now." A low, hostile voice rang through. Camilla recognised its familiar tone and her knees turned weak with relief.

Malcolm stepped out from behind a large fir tree, his usually smiling eyes now cold and hard. In his hand was the dagger he always wore at his hip.

Two of the men stared blankly at him but the third looked terrified and dropped to his knee immediately. "My lord!" he rasped. He then turned in a panic to his companions, "He’s one of the duke’s sons!"

Aghast, the other two men paled and dropped to their knees. "Pardon us, Your Grace! We were just teasing this maid. We weren’t going to harm her!"

"The maid?" seethed Malcolm. "You mean my sister?"

The three men then gaped in horror as Camilla moved quickly to stand behind her brother.

"Get the fuck out of my sight before I run the three of you through!" Malcolm growled. "And remember this the next time you try to corner innocent children!"

Camilla watched the men scamper away like frightened rabbits, stuttering apologies.

She then felt her brother grab her elbow and start silently hauling her in the direction of Arlen Castle.

"Malcolm..."

No reply.

"Say something. Are you angry at me?" Camilla whimpered, hating the thought of having upset the person she was closest to in the world.

"Yes." he gritted out. Then he whirled around to face her, jaw clenched in rage. "What the hell were you doing, talking to those men?"

"They asked me for directions-"

"And you believed them?" Malcolm was rarely this angry. "Have you no sense of caution or danger?"

"I was suspicious of them!" Camilla defended herself.

"And yet you stayed. Why didn’t you just run from them?"

"I was trying to be helpful at first..." her voice faded to a squeak.

Malcolm rubbed his forehead in frustration. "Sister, learn to trust your gut."

"What do you mean-?"

"I mean that if something feels wrong, then it probably is. Don’t ignore your instincts because you think you have to be helpful or well mannered or whatever ladylike bullshit your maids have tried to teach you! If you ever feel threatened, you just run."

Camilla nodded weakly. "I understand. It’s over now. I’m so glad you’re here."

Malcolm sighed. "There will be times in future when I’m not alongside you, or our other brothers. Even Father. You need to learn to protect yourself for the times to come when you’ll find yourself alone."

Camilla nodded again but quickly pushed Malcom’s words out of her mind. She never wanted to be alone like he described, without the people who loved her.