2 May, 1358. Magdaline Castle, Islia
William stepped through the doors leading into the Moraigthian princess's presence chamber that morning. He wasn't thrilled at being stuck with the task of escorting her to the waiting king.
Hopefully I won't get lumped with all the tasks related to the little barbarian, he thought. Just because I brought her here doesn't mean I should be stuck looking after her.
She's probably still on that window seat, wearing that ruined gown and with dirt on her face, trying to prove a point.
She seems like the type of wench stubborn enough to do exactly that and just ignore the advice I gave her yesterday.
William sighed and geared himself up for another quarrel. If she was still dressed like an urchin, he wouldn't even have any time to argue with her - King Edward hated it when his guests were late.
What he saw instead when he looked around the room was even more shocking to him.
The princess was sitting quietly in an armchair by the window, eyes downcast as a maid stood behind her and brushed out her hair. The maids all blushed when the prince entered the presence chamber, scurrying to bow low to him.
Camilla raised her eyes and upon seeing him, also stood and bowed. She then returned to her seat and listlessly gestured to the maid to continue brushing her hair.
William could only gape wordlessly at her.
She had clearly decided to follow his advice to approach the king looking like a royal lady and not a beggar. All traces of dust and grime had been scrubbed away.
She was wearing a pale green dress, the colour of meadow grass and of springtime itself. The green flattered her wavy dark hair and radiant fair skin that was tinged with the palest of warm golds.
Camilla glanced up at him again through her long lashes and his thoughts immediately scattered.
Her face was a perfect, delicate oval with wide dark eyes, high cheekbones and a rosy, heart shaped mouth.
William just stood there, struggling to form any words at all. He felt like he'd just taken a blow to the head.
What was wrong with him? It's not like he'd never set eyes on a pretty girl before.
"You're gor- I mean…your gown is odd." he blurted out. As soon as he heard himself speak, he cringed inwardly. Oh for fuck's sake. Did I really just say that out loud?
It was true that the princess's gown didn't have the elaborate puffed and embroidered upper sleeves that were in fashion at the Islian court.
Instead, the sleeves fit tightly until they reached her elbows, where they flared out like trailing bells. The bodice of her gown wasn't adorned with the panels of lace and fur trim that Islian ladies were so fond of, either. The green gown was a smooth simple silk which clung to her body and showed off a firm, full bosom, tiny waist and slim rounded hips.
"Well. I'm sorry you find it odd, but this is how I've always dressed. I don't think the local style of dressing suits me very well." she said with a shrug. Her clipped tone made it quite clear his opinion was irrelevant to her.
Have mercy and just kill me now, William thought to himself. He dug his nails into the palms of his hands, suddenly feeling parched with a strange thirst.
He slowly dragged his eyes back to her face and swallowed hard when he realised the princess was now staring back at him, her eyebrows arched in puzzlement. He tried to respond but his tongue felt frozen.
Camilla tipped her head slightly to the side, wondering if her gown really offended him that much. Would King Edward be equally offended by her choice? Perhaps he would.
She couldn't really find it in her heart to care.
"You told me I needed to charm the king, did you not?" Camilla deadpanned. "I'm afraid this is as charming as I get, Your Highness. If your uncle doesn't like it, that's my burden to bear. Not yours."
The maids glanced at each other. They all looked horrified at the pert response from the foreign girl. Had she no respect?
William blinked at her repeatedly. He knew he was supposed to say something back to her. But what the fuck was he supposed to be saying?
The silence stretched out awkwardly.
"Is the king waiting for me already? I suppose I mustn't keep him waiting any longer, in case he decides to chop my head off without even an introduction." the princess finally said, rising from her seat and smoothing down her skirt.
"But my lady!" exclaimed the most senior of the maids. "You are not ready to leave yet. Surely Your Grace doesn't intend to present herself before the king in such a state?"
Camilla looked down her gown in confusion. "Why not? Is something missing?"
The maid heaved a great sigh and then spoke slowly, as if she were addressing a child or an imbecile. "The noble ladies of our court braid their hair into loops next to their faces and then cover their heads with a gauze veil and a circlet. Surely Your Grace has noticed our custom?"
"Oh yes." Camilla's response was every bit as slow and condescending. "But King Edward knows very well that I am a foreigner. A barbarian girl, even. He won't expect much from me." The princess grabbed a length of white silk ribbon from a side table piled high with veils, circlets and hair pins. She used the ribbon to deftly tie her hair up, leaving the ends to cascade down her back in glossy waves.
Camilla moved towards the doors, ignoring the aghast faces of the maids. "Lead the way, my lord." she said to the prince.
William held the door open and watched her glide past him in a daze, unsure whether to be impressed or outraged by her stubbornness.