16 Closed Doors

The banquet continued late into the night but once the queen finally retired, Princess Camilla was also granted permission by King Edward to retire if she wished. She couldn't leave the hall fast enough, craving the privacy of her bedchamber where she could shed her tears in peace.

After bowing to the king and princes to bid them good night, Camilla left the hall, escorted by Prince William. She would have far rather been left alone but she didn't know the way back to her rooms through the labyrinth of corridors.

William sauntered slightly ahead of her, leading the way. "How did you go all your life without learning to dance? Don't the courts in Moraigth have musicians? Or are your people too uncouth to enjoy good music?"

Camilla took a long, slow breath. He was trying to bait her again, she was sure of it. They had almost reached her rooms so she'd only have to endure a few more minutes of this infuriating man.

In a jovial mood, William started humming a lively tune and suddenly grabbed her wrist, spinning her around as if on the dance floor. Camilla tried to stifle a shriek but to William's surprise, didn't lose her footing. Her movements were nimble and graceful as she found herself being whirled around.

"You're drunk." she snapped, pulling her hand out of his grip.

The prince shook his head. "I'm not." He flashed her a mischievous grin, one that she was sure he'd practiced on all the court beauties. "I'm not drunk, I've simply been drinking. They're two completely different things, my lady." He smiled wider and his masculine beauty was so perfect, Camilla wished she could slap his face just to mar it a little.

William grabbed her other wrist and whirled her around again. To his frustration, she continued to keep her balance as she was spun around. "I thought you said you couldn't dance!" He gave her a sulky look.

"I said no such thing." Camilla almost laughed at the irritation on his face. "I simply told you I wouldn't dance, not that I couldn't. They're two completely different things, my lord."

William couldn't believe he had been tricked by this girl. She had ignored him all evening and now this? His patience snapped and he pulled her by the hand in his direction until the two of them were facing each other, with only a small distance between them. Camilla found herself locking eyes with the prince, slightly breathless. He suddenly turned serious and held her gaze without a word, making her uncomfortable. His eyes darkened as he lowered his focus and stared intently at her mouth. Did she have food on her face? She bit her lower lip from confusion and nerves, which drew a low groan from him.

Camilla backed away from him slowly, completely unsure of what he expected from her. Her back hit the wall behind her, blocking her escape. Now what? All she wanted to do was hide. What was he doing?

William slowly stepped towards her, finding the girl's wide eyed, guileless expression appealing. He gave her a lazy half-smile as her eyes raked his face. "Like what you see, Princess?" He knew how this scenario went - he had found himself in similar situations on more than one occasion. Ladies tended to act innocent to start with, before readily welcoming him into their arms and into their beds.

But Camilla gave him a look that was both bewildered and disapproving, her eyes darting like she genuinely wanted to flee. He realised too late that he had completely, utterly, misread her reaction. "I have no idea what you want, Your Grace. But I'm sure you'll have no trouble finding a lady to accommodate your wishes. Good night." And with those words she turned on her heel, opened the door to her presence chamber and ducked inside. When he hesitated and wondered if he should follow her, she all but slammed the door shut in his face.

Camilla pressed her back against the door, her heart hammering in her chest. She knew she had been rude in closing her door so abruptly on the prince, but she had panicked under his intense stare. Had he been trying to scare her a little or was he simply mocking her again? Had the wine gone to his head? She rubbed her own throbbing temples and tried to slow her breathing. The best thing to do would be to just crawl into bed and lose herself in sleep. It had been an exhausting day.

On the other side of the door, William stood dumbfounded. A woman had literally slammed her door shut in his face. Not just any woman, but a mere slip of a girl, without a single friend at court and reliant on his uncle's protection for her very life. What was she thinking? Even if he was a little drunk, shouldn't she be grateful for his attention?

Never in his life had a woman turned him down. Quite the opposite. He enjoyed having short attachments to various ladies, simply moving on to the next pretty face when he started getting bored.

He could feel his slowly anger rising at the rejection, replacing his initial shock. So be it. If she considered herself too good for him, then he wouldn't lift a finger to help her. He stomped down the corridor, vowing to not so much as look in her direction ever again.