The Problematic Prince

ythmic sound of her footsteps echoed softly in the cold, crisp morning air.

   This had become Erna’s new routine; waking up early, taking a morning walk, resting and eating when the time came.
Her recovery had been remarkably swift in comparison to her poor health.
Sometimes, she felt like her body rejected the child, a thought that made her physically sick.

   Standing by the river, Erna gazed out at the deep blue water and the morning glow.
It was serene and breathtaking, but she needed to go back now.

   When she had woken up that first time, she found that everything had been organised.
Perhaps it was the overdose of emotions, the pain, the tears and countless agonising cramps, but she didn’t feel as sad, or as tormented as she thought she would be.
Everything was just accepted with a calm finality.

   Her only wish was to leave the room that was now marred with such painful memories for awhile and Bjorn readily agreed.
She thanked him with a smile, despite her black mood.
She didn’t know if it was a pretty smile for him, but it was genuine.

   Erna stood at the river bank, staring up at the mansion for a long while.
Then started back with weightless steps, she felt like a ghost.
The servants encountered her on the way and greeted her with a more familiar manner than before, acknowledging her presence with newfound respect.

   She won’t last a year.

   Their voices swam about Erna’s memories.
Most of them had bet on her being gone by now, not lasting the year in the mansion.
Erna wondered who would claim the prize money if she didn’t last.

   Did Lisa participate in the bet? It would be amusing if she could become Lisa’s trophy.
As her mind wandered through those malignant thoughts, she found herself outside her bedroom door without realising it.

   Resigned, she went into the room and got on with her day.
She ate breakfast when it was brought to her and read the morning paper.
Princess Gladys’ name still dominated the headlines, but mixed in was the reports asking for Prince Bjorn’s whereabouts.

   Opinions on the matter of Bjorn returning to his rightful place as the Crown Prince was a topic hotly debated constantly.
Others argued that the current Crown Prince, who was doing a great job, should remain where he was.

   What will Bjorn do?

   As Erna checked through the greetings, she realised that it had been a long time since she had a decent conversation with Bjorn.
They met up and sat together everyday, but none of their conversions stuck in her mind.

   Going through the last of the letters, her wrist started to hurt from the constant writing of replies.
To her amazement, the ladies that openly ignored her before, were now scrambling over each other to send the Grand Duchess letters and gifts.
Most of the correspondence’s were just attempts to bad mouth Princess Gladys and praise for Princess Erna and her ability to endure.

   Erna was always unsure what to respond to these letters, so she stuck to the polite ones first.
She found great comfort in one letter, which shared a miscarriage experience and was filled with empathy for her pain, even though it was a formal courtesy.
The usual statements of hoping the next baby to be delivered safely next time felt all too vague.

   “Next time…” Erna whispered.

   Erna’s face twisted as if she was trying to grasp some foreign language.
She knew all too well what was expected of her and so long as her marriage to Bjorn endured, she would have obligations to fulfil.
It was one of the few uses left to the Grand Duchess.

   “Next time.”

   Her face grew even more pale as she repeated the words.
She was sat still, in the chair, but she found herself short of breath and braking into a cold swear.
The room span around her and she lost her grip on the pen, its clattering to the desk sent spots of ink to stain her stationary.

   A sharp knock at the door brought Erna back from the brink and noticing her mistake, grabbed the blotting paper.

   “Your Highness, its Mrs Fitz, the Prince would like to have lunch together.”

   Erna froze at the unexpected request, her breath catching in her throat.

*.·:·.✧.·:·.*

The Grand Duke’s lunch table was set in the garden room, as per Bjorn’s request.
He had also personally arranged the lavish flower decorations, the delicate lace tablecloth and the white fish dish with subtle scent of sauce.

   Bjorn had come early to get everything set up and eagerly awaited Erna’s arrival.
He had decided to end this stalemate once and for all.
Despite the fact that they had shared a bed, he couldn’t help but feel suffocated by the vast distance that had grown between them.
He found it absurd and irritating, it was time for everything to return to its rightful place.

   Bjorn finished up arranging the tropical plants and looked at the clock that sat on the mantelpiece.
Nervousness shivered through his body as he saw that Erna was late.
Only by five minutes, but it might as well have been hours and Bjorn started to convince himself that Erna was not coming.

   Then her heard soft footsteps as delicate and subtle as falling snow.
He turned expectantly and found his wife, Erna, standing in the doorway.