The Problematic Prince

The snowmen out in the garden eventually melted, as Bjorn had said and he spent that time with Erna, as planned. There was nothing extraordinary about it. While Bjorn slept, Erna watched over him. She prepared his meals, administered his medicine and gently wiped the sweat from his brow.

   As Bjorn got better, their time together became more serene. When freed from the confines of the bed, Bjorn went out on walks, while Erna carried on her usual routines in her countryside dwelling. The only difference being that Bjorn was there with her.

   On the way to see Christa, or during moments of absently gazing into the flickering flames in the fireplace, wondering around the house, or making her artificial bouquets. What ever it was that she was doing, she would always feel Bjorn’s lingering gaze upon her.

   When their eyes met, Bjorn wouldn’t look away, instead he would attempt to engage in pleasant conversation and Erna would smile, post her replies and witty remarks. This familiarity shielded the tension in the air and heighten the atmosphere in an unusual way.

   On a day when Erna was fixing a flower arrangement, Bjorn came in and sat down opposite. He distracted her and the flowers started to wither, spoiling the display. Erna sighed at Bjorn’s laughter, as he leaned on his hand and watched her. She couldn’t bare to look at the ruined display and looked out the window. She couldn’t bring herself to make any more flowers.

   What had changed?

   Erna asked herself that question on occasions, when facing the seemingly unchanged Bjorn. The memory of the day they had built the three snowmen together felt like a dream. Yet, every evening, when the sun set, they would stand together at the window, overlooking the field the snowmen were in. The unspoken promise. The vast distance between them seemed to be narrowing.

   When one evening, the sun was setting and the baby snowman could no longer be seen, they stood close enough that with the tiniest of movements, she would be able to reach out and touch Bjorn’s hand. There felt like something significant about the loss of a second baby. The next morning, Bjorn left for Schuber.

*.·:·.✧.·:·.*

“Your Highness,” Lisa said, peering into Erna’s room. “The Prince is returning to Schuber.”

   Erna had been getting ready for her morning walk, she went to the window and looked out toward the porch. She knew Bjorn needed to return, but she hadn’t counted on that day being here already.

   “I wonder if it will be a short trip this time, or will he be gone from Buford for awhile?” Erna murmured to herself.

   Lisa tilted her head in confusion. Erna didn’t notice, she was busy watching Bjorn approach the carriage. He exuded perfect formality once more, a true Prince of Lechen.

   Erna turned from the window, put on her hat and set off for her morning walk. She didn’t realise she was striding out faster than her usual gait, Lisa sure did though and Erna burst from the front door. The suddenness of her leaving Baden House made everyone turn their heads as if some great emergency had come.

   “It’s an honour to have you come see me off,” Bjorn said, the only one who was still calm. “But of course, you’re just going out for your morning walk.” The morning sun illuminated the wicked smile on Bjorn’s face.

   Erna opened her mouth as if to make a reply, but the rebuttal she had been working on as she stomped through the mansions hallways died on her lips and closed her mouth without saying anything.

   “Or is it that you wish to come with me?” Bjorn approached Erna with a hand raised.

   “No.” The word came out instinctively, without Erna meaning to, she could feel that she was about to reach for his hand and probably would have to, if habit hadn’t taken over. 

As she held the hem of her skirt, her right hand trembled slightly. She recalled how Bjorn had tightly held her hand the previous evening as they watched the snowman under the setting sun. Their arms nearly touched, and Bjorn’s large, gentle hand enclosed hers. Erna couldn’t bring herself to let go, so she focused on the snowman outside the window. In the meantime, their fingers became tightly entwined, creating a bond that couldn’t be broken.

   It was strange.

   They were a couple. They had done many things together that it was embarrassing to think about it now, but why? Was it so hard to bear the thought of their hands touching?

   In the end, Bjorn respected her answer and withdrew his hand, Erna brief regret at not feeling his touch on her skin and blushed.

   “It doesn’t matter, it means I will have to come back to you again.” Bjorn nodded and smiled.

   Don’t come. She wanted to say, but the words never formed past her imagination and were evaporated to nothing from the shock of Bjorn snatching up her fingers and kissing the back of her hand.

   Oh my God. She screamed in her mind. So intense was the feeling, that she muttered as Bjorn let go of her hand and let it fall back to her side.

   As Bjorn turned to climb into the carriage, she rubbed the back of her hand in disgust. Even as he sat down and waved out of the little window to her made her cheeks turn a deep red.

   Erna turned away from the brazen man before the carriage set off and moved off toward the snow covered woods. Erna rubbed the back of her hand until it hurt, and kept on rubbing.

*.·:·.✧.·:·.*

With Bjorn’s absence, Erna fell back into her usual routine, as if everything had remained unchanged. Every now and then, however, she would rub the back of her hand for no reason.

   During one typical afternoon, Erna grabbed her cookie jar and ventured off for a walk. She had to be careful to do it at a time when Lisa was not about and sneak out of Baden House.

   Erna walked across to a desolate field and to a forest on the other side. After walking in amongst the barren trees for sometime, she arrived at a familiar clearing, bathed in the light of the weak winter sun and free from snow, the clearing had an ethereal quality about it.

   In the middle of the clearing, where it almost felt like spring, Erna opened the cookie jar with the utmost care. Within it, the cigar, flowers and ribbons that had adorned the snowmen were inside. The keepsakes Erna had salvaged when the snowmen had melted.

   Erna put the cookie jar down on a flat rock and pulled out the flower shovel from a small, straw bag. As she looked at it and the contents of the cookie jar, she wished she brought a bigger trowel. Unable to anything about it now, Erna set to work to dig a hole big enough to fit the cookie jar into.

   When she felt it was deep enough, she stood up and stretched her back. She took out a handkerchief and wiped away the swear that had formed on her brow. She then adjusted her dishevelled hair and braid. Her gestures were purposeful and reserved, just like a Grand Duchess would and not a strange woman who had just been digging a dirty great hole.

   Feeling more presentable, Erna picked up the cookie jar and looked at it. Once she was mentally prepared, she placed the cookie jar into the hole. The snowman on the tin smiled just as it always did, as it lay in the dirt.

   “Goodbye,” Erna said with a smile. She felt like she could finally let go of the feeling she had been so tightly holding onto. Without tears.

   Buford was a beautiful place and she would always love her home town to her last breath, but Erna could see that it was not a perfect place and accept that it was not a pristine paradise. She knew that she could not dwell here, hidden away like a rare flower.

   “Bye.” She said a tender farewell to the child she was finally able to let go of.

   She would never forget her, but at least she would be able to remember her without tears and sadness. The sweet scent of flowers and spring sunshine filled Erna as she took a deep breath, like a miracle in the frigid forest. Their first child went off to rest.

   Erna wiped away hesitation and began to fill in the hole. Before long, the cookie jar disappeared and the excavated flower garden became whole again and when spring came, the clearing will be filled with all sorts of wild flowers, bees and birds.

   Before she left the clearing, Erna took one last look of the clearing she and Bjorn had picnicked the previous spring under a beautiful tree. They had exchanged mischievous laughter like children, unpoetic chatter, their intimacy and unabashed affection. She felt like she was going to cry, so turned away and felt Bjorn’s lips as he had kissed the back of her hand.

   She loved him so much, she could feel the happiness in her heart. Even though she went to sleep on her own and woke up on her own, she didn’t feel as alone as she had been since childhood. They had created a new illusion for each other, but this time, it didn’t feel like a lie, like she was being deceived. Did that still make it an illusion?

   When she finally found the answer, her heart no longer felt tormented and Erna left the forest without looking back. She crossed the desolate field, through the hedges and back into Baden House. The back of her hand tickled a pleasant warmth.

   “Your Highness,” Lisa said in alarm. “Where have you been? I’ve been searching for you every where.”

   Lisa looked like she had something important to say and when she gave Erna her message, the smile on Erna’s face vanished.