The Problematic Prince

Mrs Fitz stepped into the Grand Duke’s bedroom and found him sitting out on the balcony, drinking a whiskey with ice. Despite the recent upheaval, he seemed to be in a very relaxed mood, showing no concern for the disturbance.

   “You’re really deplorable, Your Highness,” Mrs Fitz said, in a firm and resolute tone.

   Bjorn didn’t register ever hearing what Mrs Fitz said as he took the daily mail from her with a smile. Mrs Fitz had already sifted through the letters, leaving only that which needs the Prince’s attention. One such letter from the bank had Bjorn stir into action.

   “Have the carriage prepared, I will be leaving in thirty minutes.”

   “Why not take a break for a little while,” Mrs Fitz said. “You have been pushing yourself too hard recently. You might be young and robust, but over exertion will take its toll.”

   “If I fell ill, I will get my nanny to sing me better,” Bjorn joked as he opened the newspaper.

   The news was still buzzing about the Princess Gladys revelation and there was an article from a opera singer, divulging all the juiciest gossip of her liaison with the cheating Prince. Bjorn grabbed an apple and as he bit into it, pondered the weight of having to keep a secret forever.

   The actress had been paid handsomely to portray the Crown Prince as a cheat, she would have to keep that little secret forever. Bjorn didn’t much care though, he had already assured Erna that there was nothing to worry about.

   Erna, he thought about her as he took another bite of the apple, its sweet juice filling up his mouth and spreading a desire into him.

   When he woke he remembered the events of the previous night. As he let out a laugh, his mind cleared and he began to properly grasp the situation. He tiptoed out of bed, doing his best not to disturb his sleeping wife. He took a bath in his own room and by the time he was done, it was nearly noon.

   You have something to tell me?

   Erna’s tear streaked face came to his mind as he stared out over the garden. It seemed pointless to recount a story she already knew, but when a woman was determined, there was no diverting her from her course. He didn’t want to disturb her rest, he planned to tell her, but he might as well get some errands done first. He will be back for dinner and they could talk then.

   Bjorn licked the apple juice from his fingers and tossed the core onto the table. He rose from his seat and made his way to the carriage that should be ready by now. Mrs Fitz was standing outside his suite, waiting for him.

   “Do you have something to tell me, Your Highness?”

   Mrs Fitz was more serious than ever, but Bjorn could see a slight around the corners of her eyes. He knew why and met her gaze.

   “My nanny would still look so pretty, even as a Grandmother,” Bjorn said.

   Bjorn’s second attempt at humour finally elicited a strange laugh from Mrs Fitz and despite her sternness, she did flash a smile.

   “You look much better when you smile,” Bjorn said.

   “Your Highness.” 

   “Really, I mean it.”

   Bjorn spoke with a warm but firm tone and Mrs Fitz nodded in acknowledgement, aware that Bjorn had reached his limit.

   “Your Highness, you have been through a lot.”

   Mrs Fitz stepped aside, letting Bjorn continue on his way, trailing behind him as she always did. Before he got into the carriage, he bowed to her deeper than usual. When he stood up straight and smiled at her, he looked just like the little boy she would always be telling off for all the trouble he got into.

   The Prince was just a man, who was just a boy and yet, despite all his flaws and imperfections, all the trouble he had caused, she loved him all the same.

*.·:·.✧.·:·.*

“If it must raid, at least do it in moderation,” Lisa declared.

   She watched the weeping young maid with annoyance clear as day on her face. The girl did her best to try and stifle her sobs, but they only became louder and more disruptive, shattering the tranquillity of the common room.

   “How could Princess Gladys do this, how?” Another maid said and joined in the sobbing.

   They were all gathered around a newspaper, where printed on its pages was a letter from Princess Gladys. Lisa felt embarrassed by the whole ordeal.

   Hermann Publishing House had finally released a translation of some of the most sensational letters from Princess Gladys, addressed to her lover that was not Prince Bjorn, but in fact Gerald Owen.

   “Why don’t you read it again? I’m curious to know why everyone is upset,” Lisa spoke in a loud and assertive tone. The arrogance was deserved, she felt, for vilifying Erna. “Go on, read it, I want to know what heinous things she did.”

   The upset maid read out the letter again and despite them knowing what it said, the shock that rippled through the common room was still the same.

   “You are the father of the child within me. My husband has not yet embraced me, so there can be no doubt that you are the father, Gerald, I feel like I am walking on thin ice. I don’t know if Bjorn is really going to raise our child as if its his own, what should I do? The guilt and anxiety are becoming unbearable and I don’t know what to do. I long for you to be with our child.”

   Upon hearing the news of the pregnancy, the room erupted into curses and shouts of betrayal.

   “I didn’t even know I was subjected to such a dirty trick, we all cursed Prince Bjorn.”

   “Princess Gladys has always been like that. She may appear gentle and kind and elegant on the surface, but inside she’s a monstrous mess,” someone commented.

   As more and more of the maids and servants spoke up, sharing their own experiences that proved Princess Gladys was a not very nice person. The few that still stood on Princess Gladys’ side were overwhelmed. It became clear that Princess Gladys, who was no where near as pretty as the Grand Duchess without make up, was a shallow woman who’s politeness was only a facade.

   Lisa watched the entire ordeal and scoffed at the fickle minds of those around her. In just a week, their minds had been twisted and reshaped.

   The once reviled ‘Poison Mushroom Prince’ had suddenly become a victim, a noble hero exonerated for his sacrifice to his country. Articles praised Bjorn and criticised Lars’ Royal Family. Even though Erna was aware of the proceedings, she remained quiet. She went from the villain to a saint in a heartbeat.

   But did Erna really know everything?

   It was hard because the Hardy Family name was still being dragged through the mud. Erna only avoided ridicule because she had disowned the Hardy Family name and the people now thought her untouchable. The Hardy name might be beyond redemption, but the Grand Duchess appeared to be a better person.

   “Now that she has cut herself off, she’s no longer a member of the Hardy Family,” some said. “She might not fit the traditional image of a queen, but she did lend support to the Prince through everything and I can’t help but admire her for that.”

   “Have you heard the rumours that our Prince is going to be reinstated as the Crown Prince? Wouldn’t that be something? Now that the truth has been expose, it only seems fitting,” others were saying.

   The rumour ignited excited talks through various groups and even though these same groups had said Erna wouldn’t last a year, were now seeing her as the future queen.

   “You lot are so noisy,” Lisa said with a burst of laughter.

   She jumped out of her seat, causing everyone to look at her in surprise. “Why do you blame Princess Gladys, like she told you to bully the Grand Duchess?”

   “Well, that’s it. We were fooled by Princess Gladys and misunderstood the Grand Duchess…”

   “No, you guys are just bullies. You enjoyed harassing Her Highness. Don’t blame Princess Gladys for your actions, you’re just as bad as she is.”

   Lisa swelled with emotion as she contemplated the fickle nature of public opinion. She couldn’t help but feel frustrated at how Erna had been vilified and was now considered a saint. To Lisa, Erna was always the sweet, caring woman, no matter what others thought of her.

   Just as another maid was about to say something in return, the call bell rang. It was coming from the Grand Duchess’ bedroom.

   The sudden draw of tension caused everyone to settle into an anxious silence, glaring at Lisa and Lisa back at them. When the bell rang for a second time, Lisa turned from the group and hastily made her way to the Grand Duchess’ chambers, a handmaid close behind.

*.·:·.✧.·:·.*

The executives of Freyr Bank cast weary glances at the head of the table, to the empty chair that awaited Bjorn.  When the doors to the board room burst open without warning, they jumped in their seats.

   None had actually expected Bjorn to make an appearance at this meeting, given the current state of his affairs, they thought they wouldn’t see him for awhile at all. The Princes dedication to his investments proved otherwise.

   Bjorn casually strode over to his seat and sat down in his usual nonchalant manner. No one would have been able to guess he was the victim of a scandalous crime. Gone was any thought of him being a risen hero who had sacrificed the crown to broker peace for his nation. He was just Bjorn Dniester, an investor.

   The meeting went on with a tact efficiency that saw them finishing much earlier than anticipated. Thanks to Bjorn’s incites, they were able to broker an understanding between those hesitant about indiscriminately investing in railway stock, with those who wished to advocate a more aggressive approach. The investments into a mercury mine and cast iron plant was also completed with minimal fuss, thanks to Bjorn’s cold and calculating manner.

   As the meeting came to an end, a young director approached the head of the table with a little hesitation. Bjorn had turned to look out the window, but had noticed the director approach.

   “Your Highness, how worried have you been?”

   The young director spoke as respectfully as he could. Bjorn smiled as he set the glass of water he had been holding down on the table. He started fingering through the papers on the desk in front of him.

   “I’m only worried about the giving you the consolation you want by the end of our next meeting,” Bjorn said. He stood and straightened his jacked.

   The young director became flustered as Bjorn stood, towering over him. Bjorn left the room, satisfied that the director had nothing more, the sounds of Bjorn’s footsteps echoed away as he left the room.

   Just as Bjorn was about to close the door behind him, he turned to the young director.

   “Oh, you have a child, don’t you?”

   “Pardon? Oh, yes, Your Highness, two sons and a daughter.”

   “Good,” can I ask you a favour?” For the first time since walking into the room, Bjorn’s face was serious.

   “Yes, of course, Your Highness, feel free to ask anything.”