Chapter 74: Regret is a Powerful Thing
16 April, 1359. Magdaline Castle, Islia
The sun had already risen by the ti William woke up with a dull headache and a painful throbbing in his groin. He had slept only fitfully, interrupted by constant dreams of having that maddening, exquisite girl under him. He had felt her warm skin against his and heard her voice as a breathless coo in his ear as she clung to him.
Now that he was awake, he thrashed the blanket off himself. Sitting up, he rubbed his eyes. A vivid mory from last night flashed before him, of the two of them in the storeroom. His face was buried in her neck while he savoured the taste of her skin and the throb of her rapid pulse against his lips.
The very sa girl he’d then told, in the heat of the mont, that she was now dead to him. William rembered how her face had turned white at his hateful words and pressed his hand to his forehead in self loathing.
What the fuck had he done? Had he been briefly possessed?
This was pure torture and what made it worse was that it was a hell of his own making. He picked up a goblet and absentmindedly poured so ale, thinking perhaps a drink was the best way to chase these thoughts away. He took a sip, scowled in distaste and threw his goblet at the wall as hard as he could in frustration.
The crashing sound brought his head page, Casimir, to his door. He heard gentle knocking. "May I be of service, Your Highness?"
"No!" yelled William. "Today I want to be left fucking alone. No one’s to disturb !"
"As you wish, my lord." The deferential voice on the other side of the door then added tentatively, "Does this an you won’t be joining Princess Sarai on her garden walk this morning?"
William groaned in despair when he rembered the king had yesterday inford Sarai that William would be pleased to escort her today. Why him? Truly, why was this happening to him? The last person he wanted to face was that stuck up little viper, with her fake smiles and cloying voice.
But no one defied King Edward. William knew he was in no position to do anything but keep his word and ekly do as he was bid. If the king called him out on his reluctance, he’d demand to know why. And then he’d probably sense the truth behind William’s unwillingness to spend ti with Sarai.
William had always considered himself a good liar. His smile and easy charm usually allowed him to outfox others, but not his uncle. The king was utterly immune to his charm and what’s more, could read most people like the books in his library. He’d quickly discover William was distracted by another woman and when he uncovered who that woman was, there would be sheer hell to pay.
In fact, William thought with a thud of panic, perhaps his uncle would be so enraged he’d insist on forcing an urgent marriage through with Sarai just to prove the only one’s wishes that mattered were his own. William couldn’t take the risk.
Instead, he sighed in utter defeat and called out to his page, "Bring hot water and a change of clothes then."
- - -
William walked slowly through the garden as Princess Sarai talked non stop at him, clutching his arm. He tried to look attentive by nodding occasionally but her voice sounded like a blade scraping on tal to him. He gritted his teeth. Surely this couldn’t last much longer, could it?
His mind cast back to the picnic a few days ago, when Sarai had deliberately told Camilla about Duke Robert’s death at the hands of his own soldiers. His blood still boiled at the mory. Despite Camilla walking away with her head held high, William knew she’d been distraught at learning the truth. He would’ve done anything at that mont to be the one to follow her instead of having to resort to sending Francis Lowell.
Lord, he hated this woman, William seethed as he glanced down at Sarai and the ridiculous embroidered veil over her hair. He’d rather slice open his own veins than be married to her.
Then again, was he really any better than Sarai? His own words to Camilla had been spiteful, albeit he truly regretted them now.
Camilla probably despises us both now, William told himself. And we both thoroughly deserve it, though for different reasons.
At last, the tornt of Sarai at his side ended. Richard Bentworth appeared in the gardens to inform the princess that an urgent ssage had arrived at the palace from her father. William shot him a look of pure gratitude.
Sarai’s face however, fell in disappointnt at having to cut the walk short. She gave William a coy look through her eyelashes and comnted she’d see him at dinner. "I hope you’ll ask
to dance again tonight, my lord." She turned towards the palace and sauntered away, not bothering to even glance at Richard or thank him for his ssage.
"Arrogant little bitch." Richard grumbled when he knew the princess was far enough away. "What is it with won who think they’re too good for ?"
"Well in this case, she’s probably right." William pointed out fairly. "Her rank ans her father will only want to marry her to another royal." He looked away briefly, missing the cutting glare Richard aid at him. "Why do you even care what she thinks? She’s a spoiled chit and tedious to be around. Be glad she doesn’t want your company."
"Her dowry is rumoured to be the lands from our eastern borders to the Elleiser Mountains. Imagine being able to have that territory under your control!" Richard grumbled. "Have you no ambition, brother?"
"You marry her then." William replied drily. "You take Sarai, take her wondrous dowry and tell her to stay the hell away from ."
They walked into the entry courtyard together, heading towards the main reception hall. His duty now done to take Sarai for a walk, William just wanted to lie on his bed in silence and stew in his dark thoughts. As they turned into the arched colonnade, they nearly collided with Princess Camilla. She stepped back hastily.
She was wearing a pale yellow dress and her hair loose, a downcast look on her face. She looked so pure and sweet that William couldn’t decide what he wanted to do more - make her smile or pin her against a wall again and tornt her with kisses until she agreed to lie with him. Why did she have to always be so desirable? His headache began pounding again.
She bowed and started turning away, eager to make a quick escape. Richard’s voice stopped her.
"Good morning, Your Highness. You look a little tired. Still suffering the after effects of last night’s banquet?"
"I’m well enough, Sir Richard." she answered tersely over her shoulder and started walking away. She wasn’t interested in this man’s conversation today, with all its double anings.
"Co now. There’s no sha in admitting to getting a little carried away with the festivities. My friend here," Richard clapped William on the back, "is equally weary and I’ve been treating him with sympathy."
Turning, Camilla eyed the prince briefly but he wouldn’t et her eyes. Surely he hadn’t told his closest friend about their encounter in the storage room last night? She prayed William had kept his mouth shut and not sullied her reputation, even if he was angry with her.
"Between accompanying Princess Sarai everywhere during the day and frequenting the bathhouses at night, I’m surprised he gets any rest at all." Richard cheerfully clapped William’s back again.
William felt his body turn to stone and all his blood draining away as the words echoed in his ears. Camilla looked just as shocked.
"Bathhouses?" she repeated in a thin voice.
"Oh yes. Visiting skilled whores and courtesans is a common occurrence among us nobles, and it’s easier to do before marital responsibilities take up our ti. Though most married n still find the ti to do it." Richard looked at the princess’s stunned expression and feigned confusion.
"Rich..." William managed to croak, his throat constricting.
"Why so surprised, my lady?" Richard pressed on, ignoring William’s pale face. "n have physical needs and won are there to serve them. It’s how things work. Surely you don’t believe we should abstain from these privileges? Why, Will here is known to be fond of-"
"Richard!" William managed to shake himself out of a shocked stupor and growled in fury. "What the fuck are you doing? Shut your goddamn mouth!"
Richard gave him a bland expression though his eyes shone with wicked humour. "I’m sorry. But why are you suddenly so ashad of the truth...?"
William was no longer listening. He was chasing down the maiden in the yellow dress, who had turned and fled into the castle.
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