13 May, 1359. Westerhaven Palace, Islia
Camilla slowly opened her heavy eyes, disoriented. The early morning sun was casting a glow behind the heavy drapes covering her windows. She sat up sleepily and pushed her ssy hair back, feeling achy and utterly exhausted. The side of her head throbbed a little.
The blanket covering her slipped down and she realised she was completely naked beneath it. That made no sense. She quickly pulled the blanket to her chest while her mind frantically tried to piece together what had happened. When she finally rembered the chain of events, she felt her cheeks burn uncomfortably hot.
Richard Bentworth had snuck into her apartnts last night and tried to attack her again. Prince William had stepped in and put a stop to it, even physically striking Richard down. How had he even known to show up at that precise mont?
Most shocking of all was that she had then lain with the prince. Not only that, but she’d writhed and scratched beneath him, screaming out in wicked, sinful pleasure.
Oh lord, what have I done? She covered her eyes with her hand, mortified by how she’d behaved with him. Her face felt like it was on fire and the flesh between her legs felt tender. What was she going to do after all this? How could she ever face William again after the way she’d acted?
She was no longer a pure maiden. Had she truly behaved any better than the terrible nas Richard had called her?
Worse, despite what he’d said the previous night, she was sure William wouldn’t even bother looking at her again. He had gotten what he wanted from her.
The sound of her maids quietly moving around her presence chamber reached Camilla’s ears, rousing her from her bleak thoughts. She quickly realised she couldn’t let them find her in this state. Clutching the blanket around her, she scooted off the bed and rummaged through the chest at the foot of the bed until she found a nightgown. She pulled it on just as she heard a gentle knocking at her door.
Camilla quickly scanned the bedchamber but there was no sign that anyone else but her had been there. William had obviously disappeared like a ghost while she had been sleeping.
It wouldn’t have been his first ti. He was probably quite the expert at sneaking out of won’s rooms, she thought dourly.
"Co in." she called out nervously, glancing around her room one last ti to make sure nothing looked suspicious.
Bonnie entered, carrying a mug of ward ale. She bowed and gave Camilla a tentative smile. "Good morning, Your Highness."
The maid didn’t look at her as if anything were amiss. Camilla smiled back in relief and took the mug, warming her hands around it. She sat down in an armchair as the maids went about their business, as if it were a morning like any other. Squinting at the bright morning light that stread in as one of the other maids drew back the velvet drapes, she realised how used she’d beco to sitting around in the gloom these past few days, when she’d refused to open the curtains.
"Shall we prepare your bath, Your Grace?" she heard Bonnie ask. Camilla nodded and sipped her ale patiently as the maids lugged in the tub, water ewers and towels.
Once the bath was ready, the maids all left the room, now well familiar with Camilla’s odd preference to bathe alone. She slid the nightgown off her body and eased herself into the warm, fragrant water.
To her relief, she noticed the bruises Richard had left on her wrists were fading. However, she realised she now had another problem as she looked down at her bare body. Her chest was covered in reddish pink marks from William’s ardent mouth. She felt her face grow hot again as she rembered how he had tornted her with his lips and tongue until she’d been mindless with arousal and clawing the sheets for his touch. She covered her eyes again with a wet hand.
What was she supposed to do now? Had she made a terrible decision?
Thinking it over more, Camilla slowly realised she didn’t actually regret what had taken place with the prince. He had stopped an already terrible situation with Richard from getting more out of hand. He had tended to the bruise on her face and she even had a hazy recollection of him comforting her at so point in the night after one of her nightmares.
Most important by far, he hadn’t treated her as if she’d been soiled or ruined by Richard’s past actions. He’d even assured her none of it was her fault and had offered to speak to the king on her behalf.
Even if William ignored her from this day forward, she would always rember the sweetness behind his gestures that night.
And she couldn’t deny that he’d opened a door for her, to a kind of physical pleasure she had never known existed. She washed away the strange, warm stickiness between her legs while blushing fiercely.
How had he known exactly what to do to her? He had handled her body the sa way an expert musician would handle a lute. How many other won had he bedded to beco so practiced at such an act?
She rembered g telling her once that n that were good fighters were usually good lovers as well. The theory had proven true, though she could never tell g or any of her ladies what had happened, of course. She’d have to take the secret to her grave.
Camilla rubbed her face with warm water. I have to stop thinking about it, she told herself sternly. Otherwise I’ll drive myself crazy.
She finished washing and rinsing out her hair, then gingerly stepped out of the bathtub and wrapped a towel tightly around her body.
As she opened one of her chests to pull out a chemise and dress, she noticed the clothes she had worn last night still discarded on the floor. Camilla quickly realised she needed to get rid of them before the maids noticed how torn they were and started asking questions. A mory of Richard’s rough hands ripping her clothes last night flashed in her mind, before she resolutely shook her head to chase it away.
She quickly tugged a chemise over her still damp body, followed by an apricot coloured gown that tied closed at the front. She then threw the torn chemise in the fireplace and watched the flas surge as they quickly consud it. Last night’s dress took longer to burn and released a sowhat acrid sll as the silk caught fire. Camilla threw the windows wide open to get rid of the scent.
Once she was satisfied that the only evidence left of last night’s events was now safely concealed by her gown, Camilla sat on the bed to blot her long hair dry with a towel. Her head was full of conflicting thoughts - so good, so bad and so sinfully pleasurable.
She finally understood why William had pursued her, why he had been so insistent on bedding her. The pleasure had been indescribable. She had actually scread out loud from it, much to her dismay. She felt herself blushing again and the region between her legs began to throb. Was that supposed to happen to her body?
Camilla sat up straight and steeled her thoughts. Of course lying with him wouldn’t happen again. William had been very clear from the start. He only wanted one night with her. What was the distasteful turn of phrase he’d used to describe it?
An itch that had to be scratched.
Now that he had done so, she expected him to move on to soone else. She had to accept that. One night together would have to be enough.
Through the closed bedchamber door, she could hear the murmurs of her ladies and maids. She couldn’t make out the words but there was sothing strange and excitable about their voices.
Anxiety started to gnaw in her belly. Sothing wasn’t right.
Putting the towel aside, Camilla pushed her hair back from her face, opened the door and stepped into her presence chamber. Half a dozen pairs of eyes turned in her direction and her ladies’ faces lit up.
Katerine ran up to her and took her hands in her own. "My lady!" she exclaid. "We’re so glad to see you outside of your bedchamber. How are you feeling?"
Camilla gave her a shaky smile, relieved Katerine didn’t seem to notice anything very different about her appearance. "I feel alright." She looked around. "What has happened? Why does everyone look so shocked?"
She closed her eyes briefly, desperately praying no one had noticed either Richard or William exiting her apartnts last night. If soone had seen, she knew there was no escaping the consequences.
One of the maids turned an avid stare at her before murmuring, "Sir Richard Bentworth has disappeared."
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