Chapter 231: Gold Tinged Pearls
6 January, 1362. Westerhaven Palace, Islia
The days continued turning colder and shorter. Christmas at court was celebrated more lavishly than it had the previous year, when the country had still been in the throes of recovery after a spring and sumr at war.
William walked into their warm, cozy bedchamber to find his wife sitting by the roaring fire, smiling as she read what looked like a letter.
"What are you reading that’s making you smile like that, wife?" he called out as he made his way into the dressing room to change his clothes for the Twelfth Night banquet. "It better not be a love note from another man!"
"Well, it is from another man." William heard Camilla’s voice call back. "And it does involve a kind of love. But it’s nothing you should feel threatened by, so don’t worry."
"What?" he roared and stomped back out into the bedchamber to confront her. Who the hell thought it was a wise move to send his wife romantic letters?
Camilla t his furious gaze with her placid one. "This is a letter from Malcolm. So keep your temper in check, if you please."
"Malcolm? Ahh..." William’s voice trailed off, his anger deflating as quickly as it had risen, replaced by embarrassnt. "Your brother..."
"Yes. I assu you have no issue with
exchanging letters with him?" Camilla watched him avidly, clearly enjoying seeing him squirm.
"No, of course not! It’s just that before, you made it sound like, well...never mind." William sighed and trudged back into the dressing room. "How is he, anyway? Did he finally make it to Al Biscay?"
"Yes, He and his family arrived there a few weeks ago." Camilla replied. "They’ve settled into our uncle Afonso’s castle and have been invited there to stay as his esteed kin. He sounds very content and asks when we can visit."
"Not until you’ve had the baby, we can’t."
"Oh yes, Mal already knows about that and sends us his congratulations. He also wrote that your reasons for not wanting to na this child Daniel if it’s a boy, are terribly weak and advises you to reconsider."
William gave a little growl and stepped back into the bedchamber, so he could give Camilla a hard stare. "You know, when we discovered one of your brothers had survived the battlefield, I was glad for you. But now that I see it just ans the two of you constantly ganging up on , I’m less pleased about it. You Stephensons are a an spirited bunch."
She stood up from the armchair with a laugh and drifted over to William to help him with fastening the buttons of his fawn coloured silk shirt. "Don’t fret. I think Mal likes you. There’s never any death threats in his letters and when he refers to you as the wiry Islian son of a bitch, I detect actual affection in his writing."
William shook his head in disbelief. "How reassuring. Next ti we face each other, I have no doubt he’ll want to embrace . With his hands. Around my throat. Hard."
Camilla laughed again and leaned forward to kiss his neck just above his fastened collar, sending a little prickle of heat directly to his groin. "You n are so odd. Your ways of communicating are confusing."
William could feel her lips brushing his skin as she spoke, making him want to twitch uncontrollably. He gritted his teeth however, and took a step back from his wife. There was no way in hell they could miss the most important banquet of the year. King Edward would accept absolutely no excuses.
With so effort, he grabbed the outer tunic he’d tossed carelessly over the back of a chair and pulled it on. Camilla ran her fingers through his hair to smooth it down.
"There." she said. "You’re all ready. Yet again, you’re going to make all the ladies in the hall blush, you beautiful man."
William snickered. "So long as I can still make you blush, that’s good enough for . How long will it take you to get ready for the night?"
Camilla pursed her lips in confusion. "I am ready. I had the maids help
earlier."
William stepped back to have a proper look at her. She was wearing a velvet dress in a dark, inky shade of blue, with a paler blue ribbon tied under the bodice. Around her throat were the pearls he’d gifted her on New Year’s Day, gleaming against her skin. They rested against the creamy swells of her breasts, above the low cut neckline.
This is torture, William thought as he brought a hand across his eyes.
"You don’t like my dress?" he heard Camilla say, sounding crestfallen.
William lowered his hand and pulled her up against him. "For fuck’s sake. I like your dress very much. I’ll like it even more when I’m pulling it off you after the banquet is over. But since that won’t be for a few hours yet, you’ll need to stop tempting ."
She smiled up at him and wrapped her arms around his waist. He touched the pearls at her throat.
"Do you know how long it took
to find these?" he asked with a lopsided smile.
"No, why?"
"I must’ve looked at every single rope of pearls on the continent. The court jewellers sourced them all for
to inspect, dozens of them from countless rchants. I told them I wanted pearls that were slightly golden, to match the tone of your skin. I think I did a good job finding these, don’t you?"
Camilla tilted her head back to look him in the eye. "You told
once that you’re not romantic at all, but you lied. You’re rather good at this, you charming bastard."
"Well, I only make the effort with you and if you tell anyone, I’ll be forced to deny it. And then I’ll end you."
"I see. Because you have a reputation to uphold?" she humd, her mouth dangerously close to his.
"Indeed." William kissed her then, long and hard. He slid his fingers around her delicate throat, felling smug when her skin flushed warm beneath his touch.
Camilla was the one to pull away first, much to his dismay. "You’re the one who said we’re not allowed to be late tonight." She smoothed out the front of her skirt.
"You’re right, we’re not. Not if we value our lives at least." William sighed. "That is a pretty dress you have on. A little different to what you usually wear."
She gave a small shrug. "I thought this type of dress would work best for what I’m trying to hide."
"What do you an? What are you trying to hide?" he asked.
Camilla ran her hands down the front of the gown until the rich velvet was pulled tight over her middle, across what would normally be her flat belly. Instead, William could now see a small but distinct curve.
He could feel his eyes stretching wide. "So soon? I an, is that supposed to happen?"
"With Malcolm, you couldn’t notice much until after the fourth month. Then again, I could barely hold any food down and Tession kept telling
I was too thin. This ti around, I feel much better."
William couldn’t tear his eyes away from her belly, fascinated. "Why are you trying to hide it? You won’t be able to for much longer, especially once the weather is warr."
"Yes, I know that. If I can have just a couple more weeks of peace, I’ll be content." Camilla gave him a wry grin. "The mont everyone knows I’m with child again, the ladies with set upon
like a swarm of locusts and ply
with every piece of advice imaginable, whether I want to hear it or not."
"Does it hurt?"
"My belly? No." She rested her hand on the little curve in the protective gesture that every single mother seed to make. "Sotis I even forget it’s there. That won’t last long either. Soon, it’ll be slowing
down and I’ll be able to feel the baby’s movents."
"What? You can feel the baby moving inside?" William stared at her in shock. "You’re not just making that up to tease , are you?"
Camilla laughed, her eyes lighting up. "No, it’s completely true. Babies kick hard. Malcolm used to keep
up all night. Give it a couple of months and you’ll be able to feel it too. If you want to, I an."
"This all rits further investigation." William said. "Take all your clothes off imdiately."
"Good lord, husband." Camilla clicked her tongue. "We have a very long ti to go, all the way until June. Trust , you’re not missing much. Now, get that silly look off your face and lead
to the banquet."
William sighed and frowned, then threaded his fingers through hers. "Ugh. Alright then. But as soon as we’re able to leave without my uncle turning feral, we’re coming back here."
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