Old Lechers, Young Wives

2 March, 1361. Westerhaven Palace, Islia

"The king has said repeatedly how important our visit to the Marquis of Niarnol is." Camilla was laying facedown on the bed, one arm dangling off the edge and tracing the pattern of the plush rug on the floor with her fingertips. "Yet not once has he explained to me why. Surely you must know why, at least?"

William looked up from the inventory list he was reading on the other side of the bed. He'd forgotten how much organisation and endless lists were involved when the court relocated from one castle to another. This time, there was even more to think about, given they had to plan for Malcolm and his nurses to travel in comfort.