Earning the Love of a Princess-Chapter 213: My Little Enemy

William closed his eyes briefly, then looked up at her as if amused.

"I can’t know for sure because as you say, my uncle is as cunning and unpredictable as an old fox. But yes, I suspect he’ll use you as a threat to make Kenneth hand over those maps."

Camilla tugged off her riding boots and stretched herself alongside her husband. "And here I was thinking that marriage to you had taken the shine off me as a potential heir to Moraigth. Isn’t that the only reason my uncle agreed to let us wed?"

"Yes and no." he chuckled. "I think you’ll find that forcing through a marriage is made a little easier when the bride is being held prisoner by the groom’s family."

"Prisoner, you say?" Camilla leaned over and tickled William’s ribs. "I think what you mean to call me is the king’s esteemed guest."

William thrashed as he howled with boyish laughter. He eventually managed to grab both of her hands and pull her over until her upper body rested on his chest. "It’s very cruel to use tickling as a form of torture."

Camilla frowned in disbelief at him.

"To be honest, my love, the Moraigthian lords don’t like it one bit that you’re married into the Devon line. But their options are limited." William finally spoke after catching his breath. "When Kenneth had every male in your family killed without having a son of his own, he actually made things very hard for himself. His daughter is years away from having a son of her own. You’re not."

A pang of fear twinged in her belly, causing her voice to crack. "No. I won’t have Malcolm drawn into that mess. I’d rather die."

"Of course not." William assured her. "Not while he’s a child, anyway. But in perhaps twenty years’ time, when he’s an ambitious man and if the Moraigthian succession still isn’t settled by then, who knows what will happen?"

Camilla started to scowl at his reply, then forced herself to stop. William was right, whether she liked it or not. Once Malcolm was a grown man, he’d have to forge his own future. As his mother, she would always advise him but shouldn’t really try to stop him.

Especially if he grows up to be as stubborn and exuberant as his father, she mused. It would be like trying to stop a waterfall with your bare hands.

To William she replied, "We’ll see, I suppose. Lord willing, the succession will have to have been resolved by then. My uncle certainly doesn’t have twenty years of life left. At least, I hope he doesn’t."

"You don’t ever want to see our son grow up, do you? You want him to remain a tiny baby in your arms." William teased her. 𝙛𝓻𝒆𝒆𝒘𝙚𝓫𝙣𝙤𝒗𝙚𝓵.𝙘𝙤𝙢

"Of course I want him to stay small and protected by us!" Camilla replied grumpily, making William smile wider.

A knock on the bedchamber door startled them both.

Bonnie’s voice drifted in. "Your Highnesses, I bring you some food."

William hopped down from the bed and extended his hand out to Camilla. "Come on, my love. Instead of worrying about what may or may not happen in the future, we should focus on what we need right now. I’m starving, aren’t you?"

- - -

William lay sprawled on the bed in clean clothes, watching the sun slowly sink into the horizon and feeling as if, in that moment at least, everything was right with the world.

He was in his preferred castle in the country, bathed and with a full belly. He’d just returned from a successful diplomatic visit with his wife and they could look forward to a pleasant spring and summer together. His wife was absolute joy and his son was healthy.

He idly watched Malcolm, who was laying on the bed next to him, cooing. William found it amusing to watch the little boy repeatedly grabbing at his own chubby toes. Suddenly, Malcolm rolled over and hauled himself up to a sitting position.

William also sat up in surprise. "When did you learn to do that?"

Malcolm gave his father a dimpled smile and gurgled as if he understood the question, before he started sucking on his thumb.

William stared down at the baby, looking into eyes so similar to his own, except for their colour. Malcolm cooed again, then continued busily sucking his thumb.

William had marvelled more than once at what a content baby his son was, always smiling and babbling away to himself. William figured Malcolm must’ve inherited Camilla’s cheerful temperament. The queen had once laughingly told William that he’d been a fussy, colicky baby who had driven all the nurses in the royal nursery to despair, a complete contrast to the stoic Tom.

His mind drifted back to his earlier conversation with Camilla, about whether their son might one day have a tilt at the Moraigthian crown. Camilla had seemed against it but William wasn’t so sure. He knew the relentless throb that the potential for conquest, could create in a man’s veins.

If Kenneth never had a surviving son, that would make Malcolm the oldest male claimant for the throne. Moreover, if Kenneth was forced to make his daughter his heiress, then Princess Margot would still need to wed, wouldn’t she? If she were wise, she’d consider marrying her Islian half-cousin. After all, they would be close in age and their combined claims to the crown would be formidable.

William’s daydream of the future was interrupted by Malcolm suddenly overbalancing and pitching forward on the bed, landing on his face. The baby rolled over onto his back and as soon as he saw his father looking at him, burst out crying.

"Aww, little lad!" Laughing quietly at the sight, William took the baby onto his lap, patting his back until his wails tapered off. "Are you crying because you hurt yourself or because you know I saw you take a tumble?"

Looking down at the baby’s face, William was suddenly hit by a thought that made him uneasy. There was a time when he would’ve looked very similar to Malcolm, small and tearful after taking a fall or making a mistake.

Why hadn’t his own father wanted to comfort him? Hell, he couldn’t remember Prince Johan showing up even once at the royal nursery. It had always been King Edward who had gathered him in along with his four sons, and showed him some gruff kindness.

Stop crying, you sniveling little coward. How do you expect to grow up into anything but a weak man if you’re always so fucking emotional? You shame me.

Even after so many years apart, his father’s voice echoed with perfect clarity in William’s head. When he closed his eyes, he could see Prince Johan’s face, both brutally handsome and always on the verge of yelling with rage. From the moment he could walk, William had taught himself to keep as much distance from his father as possible.

And as he grew, his feelings towards his father had changed from terror to sullen resentment and finally, to outright loathing. William knew that if the opportunity had risen to rebel against his father just for the sheer spite of it, he would’ve happily seized it with both hands.

It’s probably for the best he died when he did, William thought dourly. The moment I grew to be the same height as Father, I wouldn’t have hesitated to challenge him and tell him exactly what I thought of him. Preferably with the tip of my sword pressed at his throat.

But thought of little Malcolm growing up to be the same - to one day wish to rise against him and gloat in the pleasure of it - struck William like an arrow between his ribs. He looked down at the dimpled little cherub staring back at him so trustingly, and suddenly felt unspeakably sad.

"You won’t grow up to become my enemy, will you?" William asked under his breath. "If I try my very best for you and your mother, you won’t grow up to hate me?"

Malcolm blinked his big eyes at him, then pressed his cheek against his father’s chest and started babbling quietly.

William didn’t know how long he sat with his son on his lap, just thinking. The bedchamber door opened and Camilla entered the room.

"What’s wrong?" she asked.

"Nothing." he smiled, immediately shaking off his melancholy thoughts.

Camilla approached the bed and quietly sat in front of him. William knew she was quite happy to just sit there until he spoke up.

"What you said earlier, about wishing Malcolm would never grow up...it would make things a hell of a lot easier, wouldn’t it?" William’s sigh was heavy with sadness. "All he knows now is contentment. He’s too young to do anything but love us. We haven’t yet disappointed him, or given him a reason to mistrust us or quarrel with us. But one day, it’s inevitable. I wish it weren’t."

"Oh, we’re going to give him plenty of reasons to want to quarrel with us." Camilla said with a smile. "But despite how much Malcolm will dislike your rules and your discipline, he’ll eventually look back and learn to appreciate what you did for him. He’ll know your intentions were good."

"You really think so?"

"Yes." she said firmly. "The fact that you look so worried about it now, is proof that you’re a good father. And Malcolm will see it too. I promise."

Camilla tucked herself against her husband’s side as the two of them watched their child in comfortable silence. She looked up and smiled at William reassuringly.

He smiled back shyly.