Earning the Love of a Princess-Chapter 229: Flashback: Cut Glass

26 December, 1358. Westerhaven Palace, Islia

William stood there in the corridor, completely befuddled, as Princess Camilla stepped into Tession’s chamber and resolutely shut the solid door in his face.

Apparently, their conversation was over.

He’d been looking for her all day, though of course he’d never admit that to her or anyone else. He’d wanted to talk to her after the kiss they’d shared yesterday afternoon, after the cutting of the wishing cake.

Actually, William hadn’t so much wanted to talk to her as tease her about it. The Moraigthian girl was laughably easy to get a rise out of when it came to certain matters. She was painfully modest, which William found delightful. So different to the Islian ladies, who he knew would undress for him at the snap of his fingers.

Turned out, the princess wasn’t in the mood for teasing at all. In fact, she was not only furious by what he’d done but also humiliated.

It’s a pity, thought William, because it had been one hell of a kiss. Spectacular, really. A shame she’d just glared at him now like she never intended to be within striking distance of him ever again.

He’d just tried apologising for embarrassing her and it hadn’t worked.

Actually, he hadn’t apologised so much as tried to charm her, to weasel out of the blame because he wasn’t at all sorry for kissing her. He’d succeeded in finally making her laugh, but then she’d just gone and shut Tession’s door in his face.

So their conversation really was over. And he wasn’t sure if she was still angry at him or not.

Ugh, women were impossible to understand.

Speaking of women, Queen Celia had requested William stop by and keep her company that afternoon. She probably wanted for him to play the harp for a while - that seemed to help her drift off to sleep.

William felt a pang of sympathy for his aunt. While he was fretting over whether some silly girl was upset with him, the queen would be exhausted after sitting through the entire Christmas Day banquet, despite her inconsistent health. The least he could do was to spend some time with her today. He started making his way towards her apartments.

The guards posted outside the queen’s doors announced his arrival and William stepped inside the presence chamber. It looked more like a seamstress’s workshop, with bolts of silk and velvet stacked everywhere and some spread out on the floor. Princess Blanche was standing by a mirror while a seamstress took her measurements. Princess Annabel sat rifling through fabric samples.

William looked past them to Queen Celia, who was lounging on a day bed. She smiled warmly as he knelt before her to receive a motherly blessing.

"You remembered to visit me, dear boy. I’m glad." Her voice was gentle.

"Of course. What is all this?" William gestured at the fabric scattered around the room.

"The seamstresses are measuring everyone up for their Twelfth Night gowns." Queen Celia explained. "My daughters all thought they should choose their fabrics together, to make sure no one ended up in the same colour by accident. Violet left a few moments ago - you must’ve just missed her."

"Oh, what a pity." William muttered without a hint of feeling. Violet was a spoiled, difficult woman and William was glad to avoid her. Then again, Annabel was even more insufferable.

"Blanche, what gown do you plan to wear for the gift exchange on New Year’s Day? We don’t want to show up in matching colours then either." Annabel asked and William wanted to block up his ears. Dear lord, even the woman’s voice made him want to gnash his teeth.

Blanche shook her head. "I haven’t decided yet."

"Speaking of which, I’ve decided it makes sense to invite the Princess of Moraigth to the gift exchange." Queen Celia said to no one in particular.

Blanche nodded serenely. Annabel hissed in horror. "But why, Your Majesty? She’s an outsider."

"The exchange of gifts to welcome the new year has been a tradition of the royal family for more generations than I can count. And she’s also a royal." the queen replied.

"But she’s not part of the Devon line!" Annabel whined.

"Neither is Eleanor De Buer, yet she’s been invited to join us this year, has she not?" William asked from the stool he was perched on as he started adjusting the strings of the queen’s harp.

"That’s different! Lady Eleanor will be marrying Tom next month." Annabel struck back.

"Yes, and we all can’t wait to welcome her into the family fold. She’s a delight." William deadpanned.

Even the queen gave him a sharp look after that comment. Clearly he’d taken it too far when mocking the queen’s soon-to-be daughter.

"Sorry, Your Majesty." he muttered.

Queen Celia nodded and her expression softened when William’s hands began to strum a lilting tune. She closed her eyes to better enjoy the music and for a few moments, there was peace in the room. Even Annabel seemed to know better than to open her mouth.

Alas, the peace wouldn’t last.

"I feel rather sorry for the barba- err, I mean the foreign princess, if she’s going to be joining us." Annabel said in a snobbish tone. "She’s going to just sit there watching us all exchange gifts as a family and be given nothing herself."

William saw the queen frown in thought. "I can arrange for a gift to be provided for her-" she started.

"Don’t worry, dearest aunt. I’ll get the princess a gift." The careless words spilled out of William’s mouth before he even realised what he was saying.

The queen looked pleased with his offer. "That would be a lovely gesture, son, especially given the two of you are friends."

Blanche flashed him a sweet smile also.

William was about to protest that it probably wasn’t a good idea after all, the more he thought of it. He had no idea what kind of gift to buy. And he certainly wasn’t friends with Camilla. But before he could say any of this, Annabel aimed him a nasty little smile.

"Well cousin, it shouldn’t take much to impress a pagan. Just get her a trinket made from cheap cut glass and she’d likely be grateful. Anything more would just be wasted on her."

"Annabel!" Both the queen and Princess Blanche snapped in unison.

William focused his attention on the tune he was playing. It would lack chivalry to point out the many times he’d seen Annabel staring at Camilla with envy, especially at the rare, beautiful diamonds around her neck.

Diamonds...

- - -

William stood in the dark, cluttered workshop of the court’s chief jeweller, browsing through a selection of items. He’d initially thought a piece of jewellery would be a way to get Camilla’s attention. However, nothing he’d seen stood out to him and he was getting more and more frustrated.

Next to him, the old man Gerron prattled on without respite. "These amethyst earrings would please any lady, Your Highness. Amethysts represent wisdom and serenity. Or perhaps a topaz bracelet? Topaz bring good fortune..."

William groaned quietly. Why the fuck did he offer to choose a gift for that maddening girl?

Would she even care or would she just accept his gift as if it came from anyone else?

What the fuck would truly get her attention and stop her from constantly ignoring him? He picked up a silvery necklace and tried to picture it around her throat.

Her slender, vulnerable throat that he was dying to taste.

William felt a shudder ripple through him as he remembered their kiss. He couldn’t stop thinking about the scent of her skin and the softness of her lips. The heady mix of her shyness and curiosity. Yes, she’d definitely been curious when he’d kissed her.

Hell, he’d buy her every single thing in Gerron’s workshop if she’d just agree to kiss him again.

It was madness how the mere thought of a single kiss made him shake like a nervous young lad. He absentmindedly palmed a gold brooch, when something caught his eye. Something that gleamed dark red.

"What’s in there?" William pointed to a cloth pouch that lay open on a rickety shelf.

The old man shuffled forward to grab the pouch and show its contents. "Loose rubies, my lord." He poured the pouch’s contents onto his work table and the gems tumbled out, glowing a rich red in the lantern light above.

He pictured the rubies at Camilla’s neck, or woven through her beautiful hair. The colour would flatter her eyes and creamy skin -

"These. I’ll take these." William said without hesitating.

"A good choice my lord. Rubies represent virtue, as well as everlasting love-"

"That’s alright, Gerron. I really don’t need to hear all that. I’m here for the gems, not the lecture." William tried not to snap at the jeweller.

Who cares what a ruby means, William thought to himself? If this gift finally convinces that girl to take her clothes off for me, then these gems are worth every single ducat I spend.