The Problematic Prince

After the commotion at the department store calmed down, the people that were present came to the same conclusion; the Prince loved his wife. He appeared like any other young father, enjoying the news of their first child, blissfully ignorant of the turmoil of their past marriage and divorce.

   This revelation was a source of comfort for many, especially as it had been used in the past to tarnish the reputation of the Royal Family. Their marriage had been one of convenience and lacked any real affection, the fact that the witch of Lars had manipulated the Royal Family of Lechen could not be ignored. 

   The Crown Prince of Lechen had entered into an arranged marriage solely for the sake of national interest and even went as far as to give up his crown in the name of his country. Such a selfless act was considered quite the noble sacrifice.

   “I will not take your money, Your Highness,” the owner of the confectionery shop said.

   He was emotional and close to tears as Bjorn looked around the sweet shop, looking for Erna’s favourites. It showed he was a husband of great devotion and love for his wife. There were no other words to describe the situation.

   “Think of it as an apology, for misunderstanding Her Highness, the Grand Duchess,” the clerk said.

   The gift box she had sniffed out was wrapped in colourful ribbons and wrapping paper, it was a gift perfectly suited for Erna.

   “I’m grateful,” Bjorn said. “Maybe next time, if you want to give a present, you’ll pass it directly on to my wife,” Bjorn winked at the clerk.

   “Will there ever be a day where I could see her?”

   “Of course,” Bjorn was lost in thought for a moment, but nodded, “because she loves this department store.”

   Bjorn recalled a time when Erna had imagined a department store as grand and more beautiful than the palace during her time living in the countryside. He smiled as he remembered that Erna used to deliver flowers to this very store.

   While there was plenty of sweet treats back at the mansion, Bjorn still felt the urge to buy more for his wife. It was then that he realised he had been paying closer attention to Erna, especially since she started fiddling with candy more often, which must have been a sign that she was pregnant.

   Bjorn considered going home for a second, but instead, popped down to the first floor. The crowds followed him where ever he went, but he ignored them. If his efforts helped the Grand Duchess become beloved amongst the people, then he will endure being the spectacle.

   He passed by the hat shop and wondered if it was the same one that Erna delivered her flowers to. Although the hats on display were indeed very pretty and colourful, even he could tell they paled in comparison to Erna’s attempts and her boasting that she got paid a higher rate than most must not have been an exaggeration.

   Bjorn continued to look around the first floor, then stopped in front a display of sparkling trinkets. He found it amusing that he was considering buying something from a mere jeweller, when he had access to the best jeweller on the continent.

   Despite the irony, Bjorn stepped into the shop. He wanted to get something special for Erna, something more special than anything she had ever gotten before. He was overcome with the desire to fill Erna’s life with beauty and grandeur.

   He could give her anything she desired, but Erna was not one to be so easily satisfied and that only made Bjorn more determined. He felt a sense of urgency and frustration at finding the perfect gift.

   Bjorn was often confused by his desire to please Erna. It was hard to reconcile the fact that he could control any major part of his life without difficulty, yet, he could not control these feelings for her. The more he tried, the more anxious he became.

   Erna should have brought him joy and peace, but instead became a variable that shook his freedoms. Even when she could no longer fulfil her usefulness, the woman drove him mad with desire. It was a funny and ironic situation to find himself in.

   “I think this one will suit her well,” Bjorn picked out a platinum bracelet with jingling charms.

   Although the bracelet wasn’t flashy, the craftsmanship was a delicate elegance, making it the perfect gift for Erna.

Bjorn felt satisfied just thinking about the bracelet around Erna’s wrist, as she delicately went about her day. He knew that it would be a practical gift that she could wear and enjoy every day.

   “I’ll take this,” Bjorn said to the clerk.

   As he walked back through the department store, he suddenly wished that Erna was awake, so he could see her beautiful smile. He wanted to witness the joy on her face as she received the gifts he had meticulously picked out for her.

   He wondered too and fro, picking out more small gifts, before finally buying up a large bouquet of flowers that he knew Erna would absolutely love.

   The crowd watched the Prince buy up all the gifts for his wife, a sense of anticipation grew for a new love story that Lechen would adore. The story of a country girl who had melted the frozen heart of a spurned Prince. Or maybe a story of a noble Prince on a white horse, who rescued a lowly girl from the tower of debt created by an evil father. Either way, it was clear that the story would be so much more than a mere fairytale.

   The main character of this new narrative was none other than Erna Dniester, the woman who had previously been considered the villain.

*.·:·.✧.·:·.*

Erna was overcome with pain that only seemed to grow with each moment.

   Her consciousness was beginning to fade with the loss of blood, which filled the room with its pungency. Pained sobs and desperate pleas came from  Erna in weak gasps. The atmosphere in the bedroom was heavy and oppressive.

   “Doctor…my baby…” Erna raised her head from the pillow.

   She wanted to ask the doctor to protect her baby, but the pain was so intense that she couldn’t move her lips as she wished. She was even unable to ask for the pain to end quickly.

   “Your Highness, you just need to be a little more patient,” the doctor said.

   Does this mean the baby will be fine?

   Erna knew it was impossible, but she clung to a glimmer of hope. She imagined the blood stopping, the pain leaving her and the baby started to grow fine again, as if nothing happened, but it was a mere fantasy. She imagined the fall season passing and winter coming on, then, by the end of the season, she would give birth to a beautiful baby boy, just like its father.

   Her voice grew weaker, but she called out for Bjorn all the same. She wanted to know if they were going to have a son or a daughter and which parent the baby would take after. She had never spoke to Bjorn about these things before, she was too afraid of seeing a troubling expression on his face. The thought of losing her grip on her life to that troubled smile was too much to bear.

   Ever since finding out about the pregnancy, she had been unable to relax a single moment. She even hid her morning sickness from others, because of the shame she felt at what her father had done. There was so much to wanted to do with Bjorn, but she just couldn’t bring herself to do any of it.

   She hated herself for being weak. She wondered if her obsession with being a good wife and Grand Duchess had somehow had a negative affect on her baby.

   Erna even began to wonder if her selfish dreams of love was what made her heart collapse and put her child in danger. She wondered if things would have been better if she had just satisfied Bjorn’s desire as a single artificial flower.

   Erna felt ashamed and foolish. Inadequate.

   Just as she contemplated how her unborn child would hate her, a terrible pain surged through her body. She felt something different from the blood that flowed and she was unable to move. All she could do was endure the sense of hopelessness and helplessness as she endured the pain.

   “Doctor, its done.”

   Erna could hear the nurse say, relief evident in the tone of her voice. There was a sudden rush of footsteps and hushed words exchanged, but it was all just a muffled rush of noise to Erna.

   As a long cry broke out from Erna’s lips, she had forgotten the name she had been calling out anxiously. The pain was gone and a peaceful silence settled in. It was a clear evening, with a rose coloured sunset.

*.·:·.✧.·:·.*

As twilight settled in over the city, Bjorn sat in the carriage surrounded by boxes. The pleasant scent of the large bouquet tickled his nose and he couldn’t help but smile.

   All of his problems seemed to have melted away. Walter Hardy quietly retired to the country side, estranged from his daughter. The lingering after taste of Princess Gladys Hartford had finally been washed away.

   All that mattered to him now was Erna’s happiness. Bjorn was determined to fill her world, as well as their child’s, with nothing but beautiful things. He had the means and the will and there was nothing that could stop him from making it happen.

   As the carriage passed into the Grand Duke’s residence, he let out a satisfied sigh. He opened his pocket watch to check the time and straightened his clothes, just in time for dinner.

   He thought about setting the dinner table out on the balcony, overlooking the great fountain, which Erna loved. Bjorn was lost in thought when the carriage stopped. With flowers in hand, he stepped out of the carriage.

   “Your Highness,” Mrs Fitz race up to him, pale and desperate.

   She rushed over to him, grabbed his wrist with a strength he never knew she possessed and dragged him into the mansion. Bjorn was shocked by Mrs Fitz sudden, erratic behaviour, even more shocked when she spoke her next words.

   “The Grand Duchess has had a miscarriage.”

   Bjorn frowned, then he understood the words, but they might as well have been smoke. Mrs Fitz continued to drag him through the halls.

   “She has been calling for you all afternoon, you need to go to her, now.”

   Bjorn was still lost in thought, staring out the passing windows at the unnatural sunset, its light creating a boundary between night and day. He climbed the stairs two at a time.

   When he reached the top of the stairs and saw the door to Erna’s room, Mrs Fitz didn’t have to drag him any more. He practically sprinted for Erna’s bedroom, discarding the flowers as he went. Mrs Fitz followed on behind, picking them up as she went.