Chapter 12
The carriage ride couldn't have ended soon enough, in Joseph's mind. Getting out of London after the devastating effects of the fire had been a good change of pace for the king. He was very eager to see his son, whom he hadn't spoken to for almost a month. Now that he had completely recuperated from his fall, the prince was due to help with the surveying of areas where the fire had spread, so it was time for him to leave the place that had kept him safe for so long.
Sending him to the lodge had been a brilliant idea – especially with that little piece of skirt, Lady Babcock, to keep his bed warmer than the flames at night. He hoped his boy had been a man and had done his duty by now. It would put an end to all the nonsense the two seemed to be going through – all those so-called "feelings" and "thoughtful moments"...!
He'd have scoffed over them, if he didn't then go straight into imagining getting his own turn on the girl. Perhaps two turns – he liked trying out the front and the back, and after the prince had been in her, it wasn't as though the girl could complain...
And it wasn't as though his wife was around out there to claim he was "interfering". His boy would have put an end to all that by doing what men did, anyway, so Joseph would be free to do the girl as he pleased.
That was another reason he was so eager to get out of the carriage. He practically threw open the door himself before the footman could do it, barely acknowledging the butler or the other servants as he marched into the lodge.
"Where is the boy? I know he wasn't told of my coming, but someone should have roused him by now..."
The swift footsteps behind him preceded the butler's answer, "His Royal Highness is still in his chambers, Your Majesty – he must have had a dreadfully long night working..."
Joseph immediately started to smirk. The only "working" he could imagine his boy doing was working up a sweat as he pounded into that fine piece of prime venison in every position God put on the Earth to put a man in charge.
He soon left the butler behind in his haste to share the story with Niles, laugh about it, and then get his own turns while Niles went off to see to his princely duties.
He barely stopped to wait for a "Come in" when he knocked on the door, bursting in…
To find his boy sat upright at a private writing desk, looking tired and miserable. He was fully clothed and his bed was made, too. There was no sign of the girl in between the sheets, naked or otherwise.
Joseph was struck by the confusion first, which soon developed into annoyance. What the devil had happened?! Had his boy really let him down once more, over a girl?! And a girl he'd had alone in a lodge, too far to walk from the nearest village, let alone something that could be deemed actual civilisation!
There was nothing simpler than taking what he wanted, yet he was alone in his room and had clearly not gotten the thing that every man was entitled to and every woman had to give up when she was told!
This was his mother's fault. She was making him soft. She had caused their son to no longer be a stallion, like he'd taught him to be. Years' worth of hard work had been thrown out the window thanks to his wife's ridiculous notions, and although his hands were, to some extent, tied, he was not going to simply stand there and let this travesty unravel.
If Niles didn't know the difference between whores and proper wives, it would be up to him to show him the way. He'd done it once, so he could very well do it again if he had to. His boy was his best and most beloved project. He wouldn't have it ruined by the silly notions of his bird-brained wife.
"Hello, son," he said to the prince, coming to seat on the chair opposite his desk. "Long night I take?"
Niles nodded as he rubbed his tired face. He had no idea what his father would want from him, but as always his timing was rather inconvenient. He was still trying to recover from a night of basically no sleep and plenty of heartache, just like Lady Babcock was sleeping her own hangover off. His servants had said she hadn't been able to keep her breakfast down that morning, so he'd left her to sleep for as long as she needed.
"Quite so, father," groaned the prince, "Lady Babcock and I imbibed last night while having dinner together and I didn't get enough rest as it is."
His explanation, along with all the implications therein, felt like a slap in the face to Joseph. And, like any time someone ever hurt or shocked him, Joseph's only reaction to it was to get angry.
"D-dinner...?!" he stammered, disbelief and rage permeating his tone. "You had dinner with that girl?!"
Niles wiped his eyes tiredly again, "If that is still the term for an evening meal, then yes."
"Don't get clever with me, boy," Joseph snapped, standing up and storming around to stand close to his son. "Especially when you've already insulted me by throwing back everything I've ever taught you, directly in my face! You were drinking with the girl, you said?"
"Yes."
"Was she drunk by the end of it?"
"Yes..."
"Then why the hell didn't you act like a man and have her?!" Joseph shouted. "Men take what they want, when they want it! If it's a challenge, we keep going until the bitch gives in! But it wasn't even a challenge for you! You were set up for the easiest fuck in history, and yet you still managed to miss your chance!"
What happened next was the quickest Niles had moved all morning, as he leapt up from his seat to match his father's height.
A fire was burning in his heart, and he was more than sure of the cause.
"Don't say that about her!" he snarled. "She is not an easy fuck, she is my friend! And I'm doing everything I can to help her – I'm going to find her a husband, to start off with! He'll be a good man, who'll treat her like she deserves, and she won't have to worry about any kind of dowry because I'll pay it myself!"
Joseph staggered a few steps, the confusion, anger and now horror all returning.
His...his boy...was going to help that common whore find a husband?! And pay the dowry himself?!
What the hell did he think he was playing at?! What gentleman in his right mind would take that girl for anything other than a good time, then toss her to the curb once he was done?! No one would pay a dowry for that and Niles paying it himself was the worst possible idea he had ever heard!
The boy wasn't thinking straight! It was one thing not to have had the girl in several different positions already, but it was another thing entirely to think that she could be scraped up from the dirt she'd been thrown into, paid for with money from the royal coffers, and put back into polite society!
Whores were not wives. He had to see that, and the sooner Joseph got him married to a proper woman, the better. In the meantime, he could be using the money he wanted to sell off the meat with to pay for the whore to get down on her knees.
This whole thing definitely was his wife's fault. And his, too, for having allowed things to get this far. He should have put his foot down and given his son an earful for behaving in such an unmanly fashion. After such a long and eventful life, Joseph wasn't about to let his own son ridicule him – he hadn't raised a sissy! He'd sired a man, and a man his son would be, whether he liked it or not.
But the time for that wasn't now. He wouldn't argue with the lad any longer. Both had busy schedules to see to as it was, and quite honestly, he wanted to stop talking about that blasted whore. If Niles wanted to sell her to the highest bidder, then so be it. But he was a fool if he thought any potential buyer would get the whore in order to "love" her or "treat her right". She was prime meat, untried as of yet, and prettier than most women of the realm. She'd be bought to be paraded around at parties and fucked in private. Love was seldom involved in marriages, in his experience.
"Bah," Joseph scoffed, returning to his chair and slumping in it, "This is your mother's fault – she's softened you. Do as you please, boy, but mark my words: you will regret not having fucked that thing when you had the chance. And mind you, if you plan on marrying her off, the dowry will come out of your finances. I am not paying for some whore's return to polite society."
Niles thought that next instant was as close as he'd ever come to punching his father. Every word that was coming from his mouth was untrue bile, and he wanted to stop it coming out in the fastest way possible.
But he knew that couldn't happen. His father might've been older, but he wouldn't hesitate to throw a return punch, or find some even worse way to make Niles' life hell as punishment for insolence. He couldn't risk it, especially when it might put Lady Babcock at risk – it wouldn't be unlike his father to use someone he cared about as a whipping boy.
Or woman, in this case...
"She is not a whore, but fine," he spat. "The money will come from my own personal coffers – I make enough off of the Duchy of Cornwall anyway."
He was sure his father would've made some further derogatory reference about what that money could have been spent on, but Niles wasn't about to hear it. Instead, he continued, "But I suppose you have some other reason for seeing me, other than to discuss the things I do for my friends?"
Joseph had to grit his teeth at the mention of that slut being his son's friend. Women and men could never be friends! When would the boy understand that women were inferior to men? Two beings of unequal standing in creation could get along, yes, but they simply couldn't be friends.
The quicker Niles got his ideas about women and what place they ought to occupy straight, the better. And he'd make damn sure he did.
"You are correct in your assumption, lad," replied the King as he gestured for one of the servants to come over. "I have come to entrust you with a task."
He then turned to the servant and barked out his order, "Wine, now."
"A task?" asked the Prince , not exactly happy about the way his father had addressed his footman. "And what would that task be?"
Joseph almost looked completely distracted as he watched the footman hurry away to fetch what would no doubt be the best bottle of wine in the lodge (whatever was left of it, anyway), but eventually he must have been satisfied that the man was leaving as quickly as he could to fetch the drink because he turned back to his son.
Over the years and from experience of listening to a court full of men arguing, he'd also developed the skill of being able to pay attention to more than one thing at once, so he had actually listened to what Niles had asked.
"Surveying the lands that were damaged from the fire," he said, reclining in his chair and his eyes still occasionally darting back to the place where they both knew the servant would reappear. "Many people will be counting on it, to know what will be done about...whatever it is that they have lost."
Niles didn't like the flippant tone of the last part much more than he enjoyed his father's assessment of C.––Lady Babcock. He didn't feel comfortable calling her by her name anymore. How could he, after showing such a blatant lack of respect for her the night before? Friends deserved better than that!
So, she'd be her current name, until she was married. And...and when she was, she'd...take her husband's name. As simple as anything, when it didn't stick in his throat.
To distract himself from the choking and the ache, he took himself back to the matter at hand. And for the king to seem as though he was giving no thought or care to the loss of life, homes and livelihoods in their biggest city, with no food, water or shelter...it all set a very bad precedent.
More than a bad precedent. It was as though...well, as though Joseph didn't care at all for his own people!
But he couldn't make such a bold accusation over one statement, and he wasn't about to argue with his father twice in one day. He was going to agree. It was all part of his duty to carry out the surveys, whether or not it sounded like his father cared about them.
"Fair enough," said the Prince, "When will I be leaving?"
"Tomorrow morning. I have taken the liberty of getting you new equipment, clothes and supplies for the trip, as well as a new horse."
Niles nearly jumped out of his chair upon hearing this. Tomorrow?! He was to leave tomorrow?! He hadn't been expecting this, and there were many tasks he had yet to complete before going. Letters required answering, diagrams had to be reviewed and he had to let the members of his committee that he'd be away for a period of time!
Again, Niles wished he could punch his father. He couldn't just spring this on him! He had a titanic workload that needed seeing to – he just couldn't get up and go, leaving loose ends behind!
However (and much to his disappointment), whatever his father said, had to go, whether he liked it or not. He'd have to spend his last day at the lodge trying to complete as many tasks as possible before leaving.
The word struck him as being more powerful and having more impact this time. And it didn't take long for him to realise why.
He was leaving.
Leaving...leaving Lady Babcock behind, no doubt to see out the rest of her stay by herself...
He didn't want to have to leave, or to look out for a job that didn't involve her being there, waiting and helping him to sort through all the important papers and to make decisions about what he needed.
He didn't want to have to leave that behind! He was going to…well… he was going to miss her! Everything about her was something that pleased him and in turn, it was something that he would miss when leaving her behind, from her beautiful smile and sharp wit to the swift putting down she gave to anybody who spoke out of place.
She'd be fantastic to have on the journey, if the idea was given any thought whatsoever. She'd be as devoted a surveyor as ever there was, he just knew it, and no one would ever dare argue with the corrections she made and the conclusions she came to!
But he knew even asking his father if he could bring her with him was a form of verbal suicide. This whole conversation building up to it had been proof of that.
"Alright," he almost spoke through gritted teeth. He knew he had no other choice than to do as his father said, nothing more and nothing less. "Then I'll prepare for my journey."
And that was going to involve telling Lady Babcock about all of this. Well, he'd leave out the disgusting details that his father had insisted were the only way he'd ever learn to be a man, but he would tell her that he had to go.
He didn't want to tell her that he had to go. He wanted to finish his work, take walks in the countryside and have picnics, like they had done before. It was going to be an awful thing for her to wake up and hear, especially after feeling so bad from all the drinking.
The thought of telling her, as miserable and as sick as she already felt, sent guilt creeping through his insides like a spreading virus. But what other choice did he have? The later he left telling her, the less time they both had to get used to the idea. And he couldn't abide the thought of not telling her at all – he didn't want to make her feel like she wasn't even worth telling! How abandoned and unwanted would that make her feel?
He'd done that to women before – left them there, sleeping, while he snuck out and went off, never telling them or giving them an explanation. He'd thought himself some great lover and a hero among men for scratching yet another notch into his bedpost...
But he wouldn't do that to her. He'd never use her or hurt her. She deserved better than a womanizing cad of a prince. He was trying to be better for her, but he doubted it would ever be enough. He could only live in hope that when he'd finally found her a worthy husband, she'd want to remain his friend. Maybe even make him the godfather of one of her golden-haired children, if he was lucky.
Still, it was all wishful thinking.
It was lucky that the servant chose that moment to return carrying two cups of wine – Niles needed something to take the edge off, and Joseph was getting moody without his alcohol. They both gulped down their cups in one go and lowered their empty goblets on the table with a thud.
Niles couldn't help but notice just how alike they were, both in mannerisms and physical appearance, but maybe for the first time in his life, he felt repulsed by his resemblance to his father. He was starting to see a side of him that he didn't like and he wasn't sure how to deal with it. Having idolised the man for practically all his life, finally seeing his flaws was jarring, to say the least.
"I absolutely needed that," said Joseph, patting his stomach. "Wine, food and women are the holy trinity of pleasures, right boy?"
"Whatever you say, father," replied the prince, trying to disguise the contempt in his voice. He couldn't understand how, having his beautiful mother waiting at home, he strayed. Marie was too good for him, and Niles was starting to see just how cruel he'd been to his mother.
"I do say. And I am king; what I say goes. So," the king announced with a concluding air, bringing his hands together and rubbing them like he was preparing them, or warming them up. "I've had my wine, and I am still full from a hearty breakfast. There's only one pleasure left to satisfy..."
Niles felt his stomach give a turn. He knew exactly what his father was about to say, but for the first time, he didn't feel like laughing or grinning, or counting his money to make sure he had enough to go as well.
He actually felt like closing his eyes and waiting for it all to be over, as his father rose from his chair and finished what he wanted to say.
"I'm finding the nearest brothel and taking care of it as many times as I care to. I'll go through every girl they have and back again, if that's what it takes," he began his walk to the door, stopping as he got to it, to look over his shoulder and smirk at Niles. "I know how to behave like a real man. If you want to learn, I'd suggest coming along."
Apart from the overwhelming need to vomit, all Niles could think to spit back was that all he'd learn to do was not sleep, if he saw his father naked and taking a woman.
But he held back the venom on his tongue. He'd rather his father left (even if it was to go somewhere he'd hurt and humiliate his wife – Niles couldn't prevent that), than stayed for another argument.
"No, I must...stay and prepare for tomorrow. There is much to be done."
The king didn't have to know that that meant spending the rest of the morning trying to work out how he'd tell Lady Babcock that he was going. Granted, he'd do what he could to get as much work as he could finished as well, but his mind was currently filling up with ideas as to how he'd break the news.
None of them seemed adequate, if he was perfectly honest. But he had time, still, to give it a better thought. He needed to make it the best explanation that anybody ever gave to anybody else.
For what was going to happen, he needed to be good. And he had to keep his cool about it, in case his father acted the way he usually did.
Not that he was trying to drag his son away from the desk, towards the door. Perhaps he considered it – considered Niles – a lost cause when it came to his beliefs. Niles didn't mind that anymore...
But Joseph huffed out a breath and shrugged, looking very much the epitome of a man who didn't care. It was almost ironic, having that thought, considering the king obviously didn't care about anything that was going on, really.
"Alright, suit yourself. Get yourself some satisfaction as a reward for all of your hard work, at the end of this," Joseph said. "I'm sure the girls will keep it warm for you, after I'm finished there..."
Niles didn't dignify his father's suggestion with an answer. Instead, he merely bowed his head to his father (he was, after all, his king) and went back to the papers he'd been reviewing before his unexpected (and very much unwanted) visit.
Joseph left in a huff and muttering something about "the boy not knowing a bloody thing". A few months ago Niles would have despaired in the face of parental rejection, but presently he didn't care what his father thought about him or how he carried himself in private. If he wanted to forfeit the company of a proper lady like his mother in favour of common sluts, then that was his choice. He'd much rather stay at home, where he could enjoy from Lady Babcock's company.
Only when he heard the front door being slammed shut did Niles dare look up from his work. He'd have usually walked his father to his carriage, but today he couldn't be bothered. He just wanted his father far away from him.
He had a lot to think about, and his presence simply wouldn't have helped.
Sighing, Niles pushed back his chair, got to his feet and began to pace around his room – it helped him think and gave his body something to do.
He had to think what to do, and how to explain what was going to happen. He needed a reason to go visit – he couldn't simply turn up to spring the news on her, like it was nothing at all.
A winning thought suddenly struck him, and he stopped pacing.
It had been a while since he'd checked on Lady Babcock, in her current condition. But that got him to thinking about everyone else in the lodge. Had anybody checked on her, before his father had arrived? What about after? They'd said that she hadn't been able to keep down any breakfast, so if nobody had seen to her, she didn't have anything in her, currently! She had to have been starving, by this stage – even if the drink had made her unable to keep it down.
He couldn't bear the thought of her lying there in pain, stomach empty, but unable to do anything about it...
That settled it, then. He'd try again to bring her some breakfast and he'd gently break the news while he was there. He saw no other way of doing things.
Turning on his heel, he hurried off towards the kitchen, leaving the work for later. He had food to prepare and a friend to see to.
Preparing a breakfast fit for a lady was easier said than done, but after being in the kitchen a little while and after a lot of staring at the ingredients that he'd put together, Niles thought he might have just managed it. He didn't know how long an egg should boil for (or how boiled Lady Babcock liked her eggs), but one had been prepared. He'd accompanied it with fresh bread from the ovens, fruits from the garden, cheese and meat from the night before. He'd also made a little bit of everything so she could pick at what she wanted, and he hoped with all of his heart that she wanted something – he wanted to have done well, and her rejecting any of it would feel like he'd failed her.
In truth, he already felt like he'd failed her. He'd made her feel like this in the first place, with his insistence on the wine...
And his guilt only grew tenfold, after he'd carried the tray laden with food up to her room, gently knocked on her door, called out to her, and gone in when there hadn't been a real, verbal reply.
"Lady Babcock...I thought you might...want some..."
He slowed to a halt when he realised where she was. At first, the room had appeared empty, but then he realised that there was a small lump moving underneath the bedsheets. And occasionally moaning, like it was going through the worst pain it had ever experienced...
That was when his heart wrenched, almost to the point of being completely crushed inwards. It was his fault she was suffering like this – he could have stopped the wine at any time, and yet he'd been so determined that they should both have fun...!
Neither one of them were having fun now, and he could only think about dropping the tray on the nearest solid surface and going to her side. Not holding her – as well as her condition, there were too many complicated reasons to do that, none of which he wanted to think about – but sitting with her until she felt better. Whenever that would be, considering the state his own stupid actions had put her in...
There was nowhere around to safely put down the tray, so he ended up carrying it to her bedside anyway. The table there was perfect for holding a large breakfast that had the chance of ending up there long enough to turn into an art feature.
It didn't look like Lady Babcock was going to want food any time soon. Her moving seemed even slower and more pitiable up close, with the groans sounding like every breath was an effort that came deep from her lungs and begged for it all to end...
"I...thought you might want something to eat..." he finished it off lightly, then gesturing awkwardly at the tray. "I didn't know what you might want so I sort of...got you everything. I-if you're feeling up to it, of course..."
He wouldn't make a fuss if she didn't feel up to it. He remembered from his own drinking how awful even trying to move afterwards was...
He'd felt like he wanted to die. It appeared as though Lady Babcock felt the same way. Not directed at him, perhaps (although he would agree without hesitation that it was his fault), but at herself for drinking.
With a noise coming from her throat that reminded him of an old, extremely heavy iron gate being opened, Lady Babcock pulled back enough of the sheets for him to see that she was, indeed, under there. The light, even with the curtains cutting out most of it, must have been searing straight through her eyes and into the part of her head that was being stomped on by whatever alcohol-flavoured demon that had taken up residence in there.
"I...am never drinking again," she vowed weakly.
Niles didn't know if that was true or not, or if it would hold if it was. He had promised himself the same thing many times and yet he had often woken up looking like Lady Babcock did, feeling as bad and definitely smelling worse.
He had always bounced back for more. But he would understand if she chose to be more careful – he sometimes wished that he had been, as well. All he could do now, though, was offer his expertise to be sure that Lady Babcock did not have to wish too hard in the future.
"I have things that might help," he said quietly, knowing the brain-dwelling wine imp would make things painful if he didn't. "I won't undo the curtains, either – would you like to eat something?"
He thought he heard Lady Babcock's lips smack together from under her sheets. But he knew she wouldn't be doing it in any sort of anticipation – likely, she was trying to get enough moisture back into her mouth to reply, or else feeling the strange sensation of what he could only describe as a kind of dry furry-ness, there on her tongue.
"I don't know..." her mutter would have been pathetic to some, it was heart-wrenching to him. "I feel...dry..."
Niles nodded, even if she couldn't see him. He understood what was going on all too well, and had prepared for the occasion.
"I have water here, taken from the well. It all comes from a nearby spring, so it's quite good..."
He didn't fully know why he was bothering to elaborate. Probably out of some sort of nervousness, or sense that he had to encourage her to try. He knew that, if it were him in that situation, he wouldn't care if the water had come from the purest spring, or if it had been taken from a puddle in the middle of a marketplace.
But, unlike him at the worst of his drinking, he knew that Lady Babcock would still have a sense of decency.
She hesitated for a moment, before one hand slipped slowly out from under the sheets and reached. Niles knew what she was after immediately and passed her the cup. He then waited and watched as she let the rest of the sheets move back some , so that she wasn't drinking underneath them.
He could only see her mostly in silhouette, but that didn't lessen the guilt any for him. She looked...well, he couldn't tell how pale or pallid she was, but her overall demeanour suggested that she felt weak enough to have had the colour drain from her body as well.
She barely had the strength to sit up while she took sips from the cup. It was almost as though doing that much was painful...
It was certainly painful to him.
"When you're ready, we can try some food," he said gently, not wanting to press too hard. "There's a little bit of everything in the house here, in case you wanted something specific."
The woman shook her head weakly. She was in no position to accept anything apart from water. The thought of food alone was enough to make her stomach churn and twist into tight knots!
She was a pitiful sight, C.C. thought to herself. Hadn't she been in such extreme physical pain, she'd have asked him to please leave and not worry. A prince was not supposed to look after a servant. It was the other way round.
But the thought of impropriety brought forward the memory of what had transpired the night before. And what the two of them had done – what she had done, was scandalous!
To cap it all she'd told the prince he was special to her. Could she get any more pathetic? She was not his equal. She couldn't and shouldn't have any sort of feelings for him! What on Earth had she been thinking when she'd entertained the idea of sleeping with him?! She knew that it wasn't her place; how could the alcohol have possibly made her that bold and stupid?!
The pain raging through her head was obviously a punishment for hubris. It would remind her not to even think about it again, or else face worse consequences. And real life, outside of her physical person, could definitely have worse consequences than this. Longer lasting ones.
She knew that she couldn't give up her maidenhood to him, simply because there wouldn't ever be anybody else. She'd been a fool to think that was enough of a reason. It was that kind of thinking that made people act on impulse, and only ended in disaster.
And it would've been a disaster – she'd have woken up, realising what had happened and probably regretted it instantly. Then, she'd have had to face the prince, who'd know that she was just the latest in his line and nothing truly special (even if he had said it), and there would have been some sort of awkward but finalising conversation, in which they silently agreed to never talk about it again.
Then he'd go on, probably having other women until he got married. And she'd just...go back to her everyday existence. She'd probably also lose a friend, because she doubted his future bride would like them being so close.
And she'd be alone, like she always seemed to end up.
Not that it mattered that she'd never be with anybody. She simply had to accept it. At her age, with no...experience...whatsoever, she was just lucky she wasn't seen as repulsive. She had her job. She had a place to live, good (if few) friends and guaranteed meals every day. That was more than some people got – what was the point in thinking about what other people were getting that she never would?
It was better to stop thinking about it. The idea that her future was exactly the same as her present hurt more than the hangover.
It would hurt every time she was reminded of it, too.
"Would you like me to get you a cold compress, Lady Babcock?"
The prince's question brought C.C. out of her gloomy thoughts. She could feel her brows knitting into a deep furrow – maybe she was being a little overdramatic. Yes, the prince had a history of being a self-serving cad, but he'd changed. She knew for a fact he had not taken any girls to his bed in the last few months and he done good by her at every turn.
Perhaps this oversentimentality was a result of a night of indulgence. Things would probably start to look up once she'd recovered. Still, maybe it had been for the best that she hadn't given him her maidenhood. It wouldn't have done their budding friendship any favours. She had to remember her place – she was a mere servant whose duty was to make the future king as happy as he could be, and she'd continue to do so until she was either instructed to stop or until (and she dreaded to even think about it) he decided she was no fun anymore.
She certainly hoped that day would never come.
"No, Your Royal Highness," C.C. said weakly, nodding her head as much as she possibly could in her current state. "I… I shall be alright. You don't have to trouble yourself with–"
"Please, Lady Babcock, it is no trouble," he insisted, smiling gently at her and daring to place what he hoped was a comforting hand on her back. "You wait here while I look for it, alright?"
She couldn't exactly do anything else, but she wasn't going to tell him that. He was being so kind about it, she wasn't going to meet that kindness with sarcasm, or any sharp form of retort that he didn't deserve.
He didn't deserve to be stuck having to look after her in this pathetic state, either, and yet he was. She had to make it up to him somehow, maybe another (alcohol-free-or-limited) dinner that she'd made, when she was well enough to sit up without wanting to vomit.
She wasn't going to tell him that part, either.
So, she just nodded again as best she could, "I...alright. Thank you..."
To many, it might have looked like a small amount of thanks for having a prince personally take care of you, but Niles had been in such states before and he could tell when a person in one truly meant what they were saying.
He heard that small amount of thanks and understood the depth of the gratitude contained therein.
And he wanted to do everything he could to earn that thanks. Lady Babcock deserved nothing but the best, in his mind, so he would spare nothing. Even if that meant cancelling what he had to do for most of the morning, in order to see to each and every thing that she needed.
But first, a nice, cold compress was in order.
He took his hand off her back, smiling once more, and went to the wash bowl. There was a cloth there, but the water had not been brought yet that morning – he needed to find some. Taking the cloth with him, the prince walked back to his own room, where he retrieved the porcelain pitcher his attendants had left for him when he'd woken up. He then placed the cloth inside his empty washbowl and poured a generous amount of water over it. He tried to be as careful as he could be and not spill it when he returned to her chambers, and save for a small mishap a few feet away from her door, the wash bowl arrived safe and sound at her bedside.
"Here we are," he announced in a low voice – he knew she'd appreciate the quiet in her current state. "Now, if her ladyship allows me to, I shall place the compress on your forehead."
C.C. couldn't help the small smile that played about her features. She'd been unfair to him earlier. He clearly had nothing to win here, and yet he was being as kind and caring as he could ever be by taking care of her in her time of need. They might not have a future together, but that didn't mean he'd be cruel to her.
Last night he had been anything but, really.
Again, she knew a maid like her had no place in a prince's heart, but could she be wrong about that, too? He'd said she was special to him and he'd kissed her – maybe her childish dreams were not exactly unfounded?
She rolled onto her back and spied at him through half-open eyes. From this vantage point she could tell that all the stories she'd heard about the prince's charm and good looks were correct – he really was a handsome man. Dashingly handsome. But, where his character was concerned, the gossipers had gotten it all wrong. He'd changed from a cruel, self-serving brute into a kind, pious man. She had no right to doubt his good intentions with her, especially when he'd been nothing but a gentleman around her, as of late.
Last night and his behaviour after their kiss was only further proof of this.
Part of her knew she was being silly, but maybe she could allow herself to daydream about him…well…loving her for who she was.
God, the notion sounded ridiculous even in her head, but she couldn't help what her heart desired. She wished she could reach up and kiss him, like they'd done the night before, but she was also aware that the man was supposed to make the first move, not the woman. She had to wait. Wait, and hope that her feelings were reciprocate.
He had said she was special to him, hadn't he?
Did he mean special to that extent, or was it some other kind of special that she was unfamiliar with? A kind of special that meant he liked her but not in the "together" way? Or was she getting the whole thing wrong yet again?
And it wasn't even like she could ask, was it? That wasn't how the whole "chivalry" thing worked, either. It would be seen as giving a hint, and apparently, she was supposed to provide as few of those as possible, to "increase the thrill of the chase" or some fanciful notion like that.
He was supposed to be a hunter, chasing after the prize hind. And there were very few of those to go around. She was barely a scrap of mutton in terms of wealth or status; nowhere near the venison most men wanted to rip their teeth into. Though what did it even matter about the rules, or what the game would determine her to be, if she couldn't take part, anyway?
Even wondering about it and thinking like that was making her headache worse; the cold compress couldn't come soon enough, as far as she was concerned...!
And she knew she wouldn't have to wait very long; the prince was bending down right then, and if she dismissed the thought of kissing him for the ridiculous thing that it was, she would get her relief.
It was like a rainstorm after a drought when it finally reached and settled, gently but firmly, on the skin on her head. It even made her involuntarily let out a tiny sigh of relaxation! She didn't think anything had ever felt so wondrously cool and refreshing in all her days...!
It didn't take away all the pain, of course, but it was numbing the area, and it she was more than happy for that. It was as though someone was breaking her fever during an illness – it felt like a step towards recovery.
"Does that feel any better, Lady Babcock?" the prince asked, not removing his hands from the cloth. He had to have been applying pressure.
He listened for the moan which signalled her affirmation before continuing, feeling slightly happier now that she had something to help with the pain.
"Just tell me if the water starts to lose its cold, then I will call for someone to bring more fresh, alright?"
C.C. nodded her agreement – she was too weak to even consider giving a verbal answer. What he was doing felt good, and she only wanted him to continue doing so until her head didn't feel like it was about to explode.
For a little while there was silence in the room, broken only by Niles periodically running the cloth under cold water and reapplying it to Lady Babcock's forehead. Eventually, she felt well enough to try some food. They started little – just a small bowl of porridge and some milk and slowly moved on to bigger and heavier foodstuffs. By teatime, the Lady Babcock was well enough to accept the stew Niles had ordered his cooks to prepare for dinner.
They ate together, as usual, only this time dinner found C.C. in bed and Niles sitting on a comfortable armchair at her bedside. They'd made small talk all day long, both of them skirting around issues that they knew should be discussed but they weren't brave enough to bring up. In C.C.'s case it was the night before, and in Niles' the fact that he was leaving the following morning for an extended period of time.
He had to tell her, there was no way around the issue, but he didn't think he'd bear the disappointment in her face, even if he knew putting her abreast of the newest developments would be infinitely better than simply disappearing for however long it took for him to complete his mission.
It might make the food easier to chew and swallow, if he could just spit out what he'd wanted to tell her but hadn't been able to...
Until now. He had to do it. They didn't have much time, so the sooner he did it, the sooner everybody could get used to the idea. The sooner he did it, the sooner it was out in the open and he could unburden himself, knowing that the truth was out.
The sooner he did, the more time they'd have left to just enjoy each other's company, before he had to go.
It was like jumping from a great height, into a pool of water. He hated to do it, but everything in him told him that if he did it without thinking, he'd be able to.
"I have to tell you something."
Well, alright, that came out a bit strangled and none of it was anything of what he'd wanted to say, but he decided not to kick himself over it and instead to consider it a run-up.
It had certainly got Lady Babcock's attention, anyway.
Not in the way he'd imagined, it would show, had he been inside C.C.'s head. Her mind had suddenly been thrown backwards, straight into the realm of all the things she'd thought about that morning.
Was...was he going to tell her what she thought he was...? Surely, this wasn't the right way to do it! Whenever a knight or a prince in some novel that she had read had been about to announce what he felt for the lady or the princess (they were always noble ladies and beautiful princesses, never maids who thought too much), it had been with his hands clasped around hers in a green, peaceful forest, not a dark bedroom, where the two people involved weren't even touching!
But he sounded as nervous as she currently felt, and it wasn't as if she wouldn't be ready for it when the time came (maybe he just couldn't hold it in any longer?), so she swallowed her stew, hoping that she didn't look too much of a mess as she did, and spoke.
"Alright. What is it that you have to tell me...?"
Niles nearly bailed on the conversation then. He could barely stand to look at her, so beautiful across the candlelight (she burned brighter than the flame did, he thought), and tell her that she was going to be left alone there...
But he had to do it. The practice leap was done, and the real one was coming.
He got it out in one more breath.
"I have to go away."
Out of all the words C.C. had been building up for, the prince had just managed to use exactly one of them. And it was this that made her mind immediately want it repeated, to check that nothing else had been said, which simply hadn't been heard.
"What?"
The prince repeated what he'd said, "I...I have to leave. Tomorrow. In the morning."
He wasn't saying what her mind had wondered and her heart had hoped. He was leaving. He had to be somewhere else, and those plans did not involve her. It was just her bad luck that she'd imagined he was going to say something else...
After that clarification, everything that hadn't been affected the first time then took a blunt baton to her system, leaving it battered and winded on the floor. It was that shock that made all the breath leave her body – she hadn't realised that she'd been holding it.
"Oh..." she could feel her heart sinking, but she pretended that it wasn't. It wouldn't be fair to him if she told him everything she wanted to. "But...why, sir? Can I ask why?"
She had no real right to ask, but she thought that maybe if she put it as politely as her suddenly aching heart would allow, then maybe the prince wouldn't mind. Niles didn't look as though he minded, even if for some reason, he did look pained.
"My father has put me in charge of surveying the lands that were damaged by the fire," he explained, each and every word killing him. "I have to ride out and look at them myself."
"Oh," C.C.'s eyes dropped to the food in her bowl, which now suddenly looked as appetising as a bowl full of mud. "I see. Then I suppose there's no disagreeing..."
What else could she say? If the king had ordered Niles to go, then he had to. That had already been decided, no questions asked. But she couldn't help still thinking, how nice it would be if he had said...something...before he went.
Had Niles been in her head then, it could all have been a very different story. But all he could see was her begrudging acceptance of his having to leave.
It was actually making him worry that, maybe, she was angry at him for not telling her before. But that was a subject he didn't know how to bring up – he'd never actually asked if another person was angry at him before, and the idea made him uneasy.
He usually knew when people were angry at him. But, for the most part, he didn't have to think about that. Being the Prince of Wales gave him an advantage in that even if other people were angry at you, you weren't normally the one who got in trouble over the issue.
Even when he had been learning from his tutors, if he had gotten an answer wrong, they simply called for his whipping boy to take the punishment for him. It was only really starting to dawn on him, this far into his adult life, just how much he had gotten away with. And he didn't necessarily feel good about dodging all the responsibilities he'd managed to hand off to other people, either.
But there wasn't anything he could do about it; no matter how much his stomach turned, he couldn't go back in time and take the canings for that other boy, like he'd deserved. He couldn't go and apologise to every person he'd only ever seen once and had wronged, in numerous ways.
But there was one person he could apologise to, before it was too late.
Letting out a sigh, he began.
"I'm sorry, Lady Babcock...I did not intend for...well, any of this to happen," he wiped at his eyes, allowing his line of sight to naturally fall away to the floor. "But, it all happened, when I was supposed to be a good host to you. A good friend. I've failed in my duties, and I can only hope that you'll forgive me."
C.C. shook her head at her food, part of her not daring to lift her eyes any further. She thought she might weep openly, if she even caught a glimpse of the expression on his face.
He was trying so hard, so very hard, to be good and truthful to her no matter what the circumstances, and to know that he was upset at the mere thought of it not being enough...it was almost too much for her to bear. If she took that, combined with her not wanting him to go, she would have flooded the lodge with her tears.
But, again, she simply had no choice. She had to let him go, and she had to make him see that apologies were not necessary.
"There is nothing to forgive, sir, I can assure you that. You have been...nothing but a wonderful host, and an even better friend. Your father's orders do not take anything away from that. You...you have no choice. It is your duty."
She supposed if she kept repeating that in her head, she'd probably not feel quite so bad about it, one of these days. But that was a day far off in the future for now.
And Prince Niles – whom she had chanced to glance briefly at – looked at her sadly, with a sigh.
"You are...too good for the likes of me, my lady. Your kindness and compassion truly know no bounds, even when the recipient has not earned either..."
"You have, my lord," she insisted, this time looking up at him so that he could see she meant it. "And I shall never forget these wonderful weeks spent together."
C.C. tried not to think just how much like a 'goodbye' her words had sounded. She didn't want to say goodbye, but once they were back at the palace life would inevitably veer towards uneventful, as she knew her existence was destined to be. Hers, unlike his, wasn't supposed to be a life to remember. She'd quietly tread the years she had left on this Earth and then she'd be forgotten; she'd disappear into nothingness, just as the bulk of humanity did.
But Niles was not going to follow her same path. No, his life would be documented down to a T. He'd be remembered and celebrated, like most English monarchs. So would his Queen, whoever that might be.
"Neither will I, Lady Babcock," he said, reaching for her hand and dropping a chaste kiss on its back.
C.C. could feel her breath catching in her throat the moment his lips touched her skin. Had it been up to her, she would have stopped time right then and there, so she would never have to not feel his gentle touch again. Still, there is so much a kiss can last, and soon (too soon) he was pulling away.
Two pairs of blue eyes met then, and for the longest of times they could only gaze into the depths of the other's miniature oceans. There must have been something magical about it because, soon enough, their lips were pressed together in a passionate kiss.
It was just as wonderful as it had been the other night. Only now, the rush and heat and giddiness pumping through them wasn't coming from wine running through their blood. It was coming from the feeling of each other's lips running over theirs, soft moans crawling up throats, as Niles found himself getting closer, kneeling and then sitting on her bed as arms wound around bodies and hands started wandering, exploring and seeking out pleasure over the top of clothes where they could.
It was magical. Just the two of them, lost in their own world, with so very little by way of fabric or space between them...
The thought didn't send him snapping back into reality until he was almost overwhelmed by the delectable feeling of Lady Babcock's tongue running over his lower lip.
He had to pull away – he was getting ahead of himself ( full of himself) again! What was he thinking?! She deserved better than this; she...she deserved better than him...
He tried to stumble out a few words – an apology, an explanation – anything that could stop everything before he went too far and lost what he had with her. All because of his own stupidity and lack of self-control.
"My...Lady Babcock, I–"
He never got past that. He just saw the woman in his arms shake her head and then cut him off with another kiss.
She didn't want to talk. It wouldn't be right or good; it would ruin everything. She didn't want to have to hear either of them say how this could only be temporary, or that they couldn't have anything else when this alone wasn't enough.
It would never be enough. And inside she was mourning because it was all she'd ever get.
And the tears that came with mourning were out before she could stop them, which only added to her shame. She should have hardened herself against the idea of living by alone forever by now. When there was only one clear destiny for you, you had to accept it. As much as she felt wanted right now, that would never be. It wasn't as if anybody else would take her, at her age and...inexperience.
She pulled away to try and wipe her tears, hoping she wouldn't scare the prince into feeling uncomfortable. She didn't want the night to end with him walking away...
Not when he'd have to go in the morning, and then she'd probably barely ever see him again.
But when she tried to lift her wrist to get rid of the tears, Niles caught her hand in his. He understood. She didn't want to talk about any of this – not when there was so little time, and everything could go disastrously wrong, or just go away in general.
He didn't know what he wanted (and it would've usually killed him to admit that), but he didn't want the night to have to go away. But he also knew that it had to end at some point and a new, cold day had to come. And he could only imagine that that day would be filled with an awkward silence until he left.
A silence from Lady Babcock, as she realised that she had made a terrible mistake. She had to know that she deserved better than him – it was as plain as day. And if she didn't, it wouldn't take her long to realise.
They were on borrowed time, and even if he couldn't name or even know what he wished would happen with it, he wanted to extend it for as long as possible. He lowered her hand, bringing it to his chest, and kissed away her tears before bringing his lips back to hers.
They were in each other's arms again before they knew it, kissing and touching as they had been before, never once stopping to talk about what they were doing because in the morning it might not even matter.
Not to anybody but them, anyway, and nobody seemed to care what they thought, or wanted.
It was a depressing thought, but a true one. And to combat it, as well as the loneliness creeping into their hearts at even the idea of being apart, as they began to tire and feel sleep coming upon them, they lay down together in a tight, wordless embrace.
They might not have the next morning, but they could hold each other through the night.