Refuge

17 May, 1358. Magdaline Castle, Islia

Dinner in the great hall was in full swing. Camilla sat at the high table, her pleasant smile firmly in place, hiding her discomfort. As was now his habit, Prince William said as little as possible to her. As soon as he finished eating every night, he'd rise from the table and join his friends, and soon find himself surrounded by both sycophantic courtiers and admiring ladies.

Usually Camilla would spend time after dinner in Princess Blanche's company. However, the older princess was away from the hall this particular night, caring for one of her sick children. The queen was also missing due to ill health and Camilla knew better than to even look in Princess Violet's direction. Princess Violet relished the nights when the queen was absent because it made her the highest ranking lady in the hall. She had also made it clear that a princess from a barbarian kingdom and with a traitor's blood in her veins, wasn't welcome in her presence. Most other court ladies followed her lead.

Camilla looked across the lively room, almost used to the crushing loneliness. She saw Prince William at a nearby table, laughing with his close companions as two of them engaged in a drinking contest. Sir Robin and Prince Thomas were matching each other drink for drink while the other young men placed coins as bets on the table. One of the ladies had looped her arms around William's neck from behind as she watched the contest, occasionally whispering in his ear.

The king sat a few seats down the length of the high table, with his mistress clinging to him. No one batted an eyelid at the sight of the young woman with red hair giggling in his lap. At one point she was even bold enough to briefly sit in the queen's empty chair.

Camilla couldn't understand such open debauchery. Her parents' marriage had been a love match and the duke had sincerely grieved his wife's death. Her eldest brother Duncan had married a few months before his death and had treated his wife with respect. But in Islia, the rules seemed to be different, at least for men.

Camilla was wondering if she'd ever laugh again when saw a man bowing to her from the corner of her eye. "Good evening Tession." She was relieved to see at least one face that wasn't openly hostile.

He smiled back. "Good evening, Your Highness. Could I interest you in a short walk? I must admit I've never felt completely at ease at these crowded events."

Camilla accepted his invitation, glad to escape for a few moments. She tucked her hand in the crook of his arm as he led her away.

- - -

Prince William stared at the backs of the princess and the old healer as they walked out of the hall arm in arm, feeling his temper rising. He had exchanged only a few words with the infuriating girl over the past few evenings, where he was forced to sit next to her for dinner. She didn't seem to notice he was ignoring her. She was the picture of calm and poise, looking achingly beautiful and untouchable. The frustration made him want to yell at someone, anyone.

The woman who had wrapped her arms around his shoulders leaned forward and whispered something. He missed what she was saying and he really didn't care. Her breath in his ear tickled and felt like shrugging away her embrace and telling her to leave him the fuck alone.

Ever since Tession had refused to make a potion to help him, William had no idea how to win over the princess. He didn't really know how to converse with women, apart from a few lines of lighthearted banter. That was usually all that was needed before a lady was under his sway. Mostly, they pursued him anyway, he just let himself be carried along until boredom struck.

But that clearly wasn't going to work with Camilla. She was unimpressed by him. She didn't find him amusing or act flattered by his attention. Neither was she swayed by his royal rank, which was essentially the same as her own. She didn't even seem to find him attractive. So what exactly was he supposed to offer her to lure her to his bed?

Every day she ignored him, his frustration grew.

The other girl behind him brushed her lips against the shell of his ear and giggled. The sound made him grit his teeth. She whispered to him that she was a little faint from the wine and would he be kind enough to escort her to her room? A wave of revulsion swept through him. He pried her arms off him.

"Go alone. I'm not interested in what you're offering." He turned away from her, picked up his goblet and took a long gulp. The girl stood up, pouting. When he refused to look at her again, she flounced away.

William's friends all looked at him in surprise. "What's wrong, Will? Lost your appetite?" laughed Richard Bentworth.

"Why don't we go to the Summer Lotus instead?" suggested Robin, mentioning a bathhouse the young men sometimes visited. "The ladies are fairer there."

The other men readily agreed and stood up to leave the hall. William hesitated, not understanding his own reluctance. When had he ever turned down an evening of carousing? His friends looked equally shocked. "You're not ill, are you Will?"

Not wanting to arouse more suspicion, the prince dragged himself out of his chair and followed the group.