The Problematic Prince

“This is not like Erna, she won’t say such a thing to you.” Mrs Greaves said, concerned in her words.

   Baroness Baden looked at her with pensive eyes, but then dropped her gaze back to the letter she loosely heald in her withered fingers.

   The letter had been one of denial to the request to visit the Grand Duchess at her residence. It explained that the Royal Family was still preoccupied, making it rather difficult to entertain guests at the moment. The letter also expressed their gratitude for their support and wished the Baroness peace. The final words of the letter was an invitation to come and visit during the autumn.

   “If you really miss her, maybe you could invite Erna to stay here again,” Mrs Graves said.

   “If I could, I would.”

   After reading the letter once more, Baroness Baden went over and looked out the window. Beyond the white picket fence, she could see the fields heated and browned by the sun. The weather was so hot, the Baroness could imagine a child out there, trying to dye their hair the colour of the sun.

   Despite having someone like Walter Hardy as her father, Erna had gown up in such a haze of happiness it could heal any wound. Now, thanks to the terrible things her father had done, Erna was able to cut that monster from her life for good. She should be grateful for that.

   The news of the Grand Duchess severing ties with her father caused quite the stir, even in the deep countryside. Prince Bjorn had announced Walter Hardy was no longer Erna Dniester’s father, nor a royal-in-law. Walter had voluntarily given up that right and he never again be called the father of the Grand Duchess.

   The desire of the people was still under the impression that the unqualified Grand Duchess should relinquish her role, but Prince Bjorn remained consistent with a thorough none response. His will was so firm that it was unlikely Erna was going to go any where.

   No matter how strong Bjorn was, how could Erna hold her head up still? She was a tender hearted child that had even felt sorry that she shared the same coloured hair as her father, the man who had hurt her mother. When Baroness thought about how Erna looked at her husband now, her eyes seemed to fill with tears.

   “Madam, please ask the Prince for this one favour,” Mrs Greaves said, with a smile on her face. “When he visited Buford, I saw that the Prince was very fond of the young lady, so if you proposed bringing the young lady here, wouldn’t he consider it properly? The Prince will want his young wife to be comfortable.”

   “There’s no point,” the Baroness nodded slowly.

   Baroness Baden had entrusted Erna to Prince Bjorn, believing him to be a man different from the rumours, but still, something niggled at her. After watching the two during their spring visit, she was able to put away those concerns.

  Prince Bjorn was a difficult person, to be sure and despite having laid down the crown, he was still a monarch. He carried himself as such, full of elegance and pride, never bowing down to anyone. His mannerisms, expressions and eyes all bore the traces of his royal upbringing, making it difficult for the Baroness to treat him like a grandson.

   She couldn’t shake the feeling that the Prince, with Erna, looked like just another ordinary young couple. She enjoyed the sight of the two of them and often watched them quietly. Baroness Baden couldn’t help but think that if she had a man like Prince Bjorn when she was younger, her life would have been peaceful and happy. The thought brought a sense of relief.

   With Erna’s letter still clutched in her fingers, the Baroness rose to her feet and grew determined. She decided to trust her intuition, firmly believing that Prince Bjorn would know what was best for Erna.

*.·:·.✧.·:·.*

“I heard that it was Wednesday today,” the Duchess Arsene said.

   Her tone was remarkably lofty and despite being an unannounced guest, she arrived with a mound of gifts and an attitude that was far from what was expected.

   “So I decided to stop by for awhile, there’s nothing to get excited about,” the Duchess continued.

   She folded her fan and placed it down on the table. Her wrinkled hands wrapped around the crystal beaker and raised it to her lips to take a sip of the whiskey soda. She had decided to visit her Grandson’s house in the middle of the day. She made out like it was no big deal and remained naturally cool. In contrast, Leonid looked well groomed enough for a night at a royal opera show.

   “So why are you here and what’s with…that?” the Duchess waved a half full glass at Leonid and the huge bouquet sat next to Erna.

   The bouquet was almost as big as the Grand Duchess and looked to have been made by someone who knew nothing of contrasting colours. The bouquet was every bight colour imaginable and looked garish. The colours were so dazzling, it made the eyes tingle.

   “I stopped by to visit my nephew, I had some free time and wanted to see how the Grand Duchess was coping,” Leonid said.

   “You’re good at lying, but you and I both know we wont be seeing your nephew until next year,” the Duchess looked at Leonid with narrowed eyes.

   “I’m watching him with my heart, Grandma,” Leonid said, shamelessly.

   The tension was momentarily lifted by a burst of laughter from Duchess Arsene, who cast a playful glance at her grandson. Erna, who had been feeling intimidated, cracked a smile too.

   “Fine then, would you care to tell me all about your nephew, who you’ve been watching with your heart?”

   “I think he’s going to be a good kid, he will be so much more like his mother,” as Leonid looked at Erna, he smiled, it was a smile that was so distinctly similar to Bjorn’s, but a smile Bjorn had not shown for his own child.

   “Thank you,” Erna blushed in embarrassment. “And thank you for the flowers, they’re so pretty.”

   Erna turned her attention to the overly large bouquet next ot her. The vivid colours of the flowers were stunning and appeared to have been meticulously chosen, even a cursory glance would tell that great care had gone into assembling the bouquet. Even as she clucked her tongue, the Duchess Arsene looked at Erna with gentle eyes.

   The conversation continued on course, talking about the weather, recent books and plans for the fall. As they chatted, Erna had felt intimidated at first, but slowly relaxed into the flow of the conversation. While Duchess Arsene was pleased to see this, she also felt a little sorry for Erna and couldn’t help but keep her gaze fixed on the young girl. Just as Erna was starting to smile again, Lisa brought news that Bjorn was returning.

*.·:·.✧.·:·.*

Bjorn was unwelcome. Erna’s mannerisms and expression conveyed that pretty clearly. After she had been laughing heartily for awhile, it suddenly disappeared and only a motionless doll remained. Bjorn had to muster all of his patience to fight the urge to lash out at Erna, who was tending to him like a reprimanded child.

   “How about letting Erna stay with me for awhile,” the Duchess Arsene said.

   She had sent the exhausted Erna back to her bedroom so that she could offer the proposal. Bjorn’s eyes narrowed suspiciously.

   “I think that would be best for both of you,” the Duchess continued.

   “Erna’s place is here, Grandma,” Bjorn replied without hesitation. Has Erna ever thought about leaving?

   Bjorn couldn’t help think about how Erna had been viably downcast since their second fight, it was just that, right? What had these three been talking about in his absence?

   “Don’t you think the position of Grand Duchess is more of a burden for Erna, being pregnant and all.”

   “I know what is best for Erna,” Bjorn said, confronting his Grandma with a cold gaze.

   “Really?”

   “Yes, now that all the trouble has passed and Erna is safely behind the walls of Schuber Palace. Her seat is perfect Grandma and she will continue to hold that position.”

   “Bjorn Dniester!” the Duchess said in a commanding voice. “You treat your wife like Charlotte on your lap!”

   The Duchess tutted disapprovingly as she looked at her Grandson, as if he was the most pitiful and wretched thing she had ever seen.

   “Charlotte?” Bjorn frowned and looked at Leonid.

   It was clear that Bjorn could not remember the name of the cat he had spent so much time fussing over for so long.

   “The cat,” Leonid said quietly.

   “Ah, the white cat,” Bjorn said, still emotionless.

   The Duchess sighed and folded her fan away. Of the two children, it was always Bjorn that showed the most affection for the Charlotte. He would always cradle the cat tenderly on his lap and pet her whenever he visited. It might have been his tender touch, but Charlotte would always only ever rub up against Bjorn.

   Anyone might have believed he had genuine affection for Charlotte, as he would always pick her up and stroke her fondly. His eyes would light up and he would smile warmly, as if a doting lover.

   When the Duchess thought about how Charlotte would sit at the window for long hours of the day, then purr in Bjorn’s arms, it was the same as the affection she saw in Erna. How her face would light up when she spoke about Bjorn, it made the Duchess’ heart ache. So when the Duchess saw Erna now, she could tell that there was something wrong.

   The child who had once regarded Bjorn with such admiration, like he was the centre of her world, now averted her gaze hastily. Her once bright eyes were now downcast and lifeless. If Charlotte had been human, would she look the same way?

   Duchess Arsene heaved a heavy sigh off her chest and lifted her head to look at her grandson once more. Bjorn straightened his posture, feeling the scrutiny of the old woman on him.

   “Live with gratitude for the faces of your ancestors every moment you breath,” was all she could say to the man that looked content on the outside, but she could tell he was in turmoil on the inside.

   With Erna as the mother, Bjorn as the father, the Duchess could tell that their child would be beautiful and handsome.