No Angel

1 May, 1358. Magdaline Castle, Islia

William strode towards the chambers where the Moraigthian princess was being held, feeling a mixture of dread and intense curiosity at having to speak with her again. King Edward himself had enquired about the health of his new little guest and had ordered William to visit her, to confirm she was being well looked after. In fact, the king had wanted William to visit the princess yesterday, but his hours has been occupied by writing reports on the Arlington campaign, detailing the number of fallen men and provisions spent.

Giving the little wildcat another day to cool her temper probably didn't hurt either, William thought to himself with a grim smile. She'd better not try to claw him again.

He stepped into the presence chamber allocated to the princess and observed two maids quietly cleaning. A third maid emerged from the princess's bedchamber, carrying a tray of food. Upon seeing him, the three maids stopped their tasks and quickly bobbed respectful bows in his direction, heads bowed.

"How is the royal guest?" he asked as his eyes scanned the meal tray. The food looked untouched.

The maids exchanged nervous glances. "She's well enough, Your Grace." one piped up tentatively. "Though she won't speak, or even look at us. She also refuses to eat. But we're doing our best to care for her, as per His Majesty's orders."

William raised an eyebrow. "Is she trying to starve herself?" Without waiting for an answer, he rapped on the bedchamber door and after pausing a moment, swung open the door and stepped inside.

The curtains were only partially open, casting a gloomy atmosphere. The princess sat in the window seat with her back against the wall and her knees drawn tightly against her chest. She stared out the arched window above her seat with dull eyes.

William slowly walked towards her. She registered his presence with a brief flick of her eyes in his direction, then continued hugging her knees and staring out the window while saying nothing. William stared at her, unsure what he should say.

His mind was cast back to several days ago, when he and his men sat around a campfire and ate their dinner rations. It was the last stretch of the ride to Moraigth - they would cross the northern border that next morning and join up with King Kenneth's army. For many of the young knights, it would be their first campaign outside Islia and the men had talked about what they hoped to see in the neighbouring barbarian kingdom. One knight wanted to see if the fir forests around the town of Arlen were haunted, as legend suggested. Another knight wanted to see if the duke's castle was as grand and imposing as he had been told.

When it was Sir Francis Lowell's turn to speak, he had smiled dreamily and said "I wish to gaze upon the face of the duke's daughter, and see if she's as lovely as the bards sing in their ballads. It is said she's the most beautiful maiden in her entire kingdom."

Sir Robin Sainsbury scoffed. "That's hardly a great boast in a country full of barbarians, where most of the women look like horses." The men around the campfire roared with laughter.

Chuckling, Francis had replied, "Perhaps that's true enough. But it is said the princess resembles her mother, who was an exotic beauty from the far western lands. In fact, Princess Camilla is said to be so beautiful that the Moraigthian bards and poets refer to her as the Dark Angel."

The girl in front of William now however, was no angel.

She sat huddled in the window seat in silence, her face half hidden behind long tangled locks. What could be seen of her face was caked in dust and streaked with dried tears. She was in the same dress she'd worn at Arlen Castle, now smudged with dirt and ragged at the hem. William was taken aback. He knew the king had instructed a bath be brought to the princess, as well as fine food from the castle kitchens and elaborate gowns from the royal seamstresses. The Moraigthian girl was clearly determined to ignore all of it and wallow in misery.

Silence.

"The maids say you refuse to speak or eat. Are you wishing to die?" William finally blurted out. He kicked himself immediately afterwards. It was probably not the best choice of words to break the ice, but the silence in the room was grating on his nerves.

"So what if I am?" Princess Camilla replied without looking at him. "My family is gone and I'm far from home with no hope of finding my way back. There's not much for me to live for, is there?"

William hesitated, then lowered himself into the other end of the window seat so he could face the girl directly. "Well, you can't know that for sure. Who knows what the future might hold? Your family is dead but you are young and young people like us can always find something to live for."

Camilla finally peered at him through her long matted hair, eyes sharp as daggers. "What would you even know? You're not the one being held prisoner in a court that hates you. You haven't lost your entire kin! So what would you know about being left alone-"

"Actually, I'm not as clueless as you think." William interrupted her tirade. "Both my parents are dead and I have no siblings. So yes, I think I know something about what it's like to be an orphan."

Camilla blinked in shock and pressed her lips shut. "I'm sorry." she whispered, her face flushing with embarrassment. "I didn't realise."

William made a dismissive gesture with his hand. "It was all a long time ago. My mother died in giving birth to me, so it's hard for me to miss someone I never knew. And my father…" William's face twisted briefly. "He was a miserable man and he hated me. Died of fever four years ago. I didn't mourn the loss." He sat up straighter and shot her a pointed look. "And yet, despite all of this, I survived. So will you. Give it time."

Camilla felt tears starting to well in her eyes again, but she refused to let them fall in front of this stranger. "It's not the same thing as what happened to you. I actually loved my family…what am I supposed to do now?"

The prince sighed, trying to gather his patience. Distressed women had always made him incredibly uncomfortable. But he knew King Edward wanted to princess to remain alive and serve as a valuable bargaining chip in the future. She was not allowed to simply lay down and die.

After a couple of moments of silence, he said in a quiet voice, "I met your father once, many years ago. He was a charming man actually." His stare was piercing. "He struck me as the kind of man who wouldn't want you to just give up. If he were here, don't you think he would tell you to find something to live for, to fight for? Especially as you're his only remaining child."

Camilla nodded slowly, reluctantly. Then she found the courage to ask, "Did…did you see him…were you there when he died?"