The Problematic Prince

Erna’s eyes went wide in shock and uncertainty.
She averted her gaze and didn’t offer a response.
Inside, a storm was brewing within her chest and left her devoid of coherent thought.

   “Rest,” Erna said, as if she didn’t hear what he said.
Her hands were trembling and subconsciously wrung at her skirt.

   As her heart thundered in her chest, she turned to leave, anxious to put as much distance between her and Bjorn as she could manage, but before she could take a step toward the door, Bjorn stopped her by grabbing her shoulder.

   “Weren’t you waiting for me?” His demanding voice drowned out the howl of the wind.
“Isn’t that why you stayed up late into the night?”

   “No, not at all.” Erna turned and looked at Bjorn with watery eyes.
“The thought of you coming back kept me up, that you would return, I waited hoping you wouldn’t.”

   “That’s what you’ve been waiting for?” Bjorn let out a dejected sigh and brushed his damp hair off his forehead.
“So why do you run away when I come back?”

   “Bjorn, don’t do this.”

   “Erna.”

   “Everything is always so much easier for you, but not for me, so please, don’t.”

   “Does it really look easy for me?” His lips trembled as he looked at Erna, who’s pleading expression was on the verge of tears.

   Guilt pulled at his heart.
She used to be such a carefree and content young lady, according to his recollection, but they had become obsolete, Erna could no longer be counted upon by her past actions, she had become something more emotional, a perplexing puzzle.

   “No, not at all, Erna, do you think its easy for me to keep coming back to a woman that wishes me to disappear forever?”

   “Wishes?”

   “The wish you made on your birthday.” He chuckled at the futility of the words that effortlessly shattered his pride.

   As he looked at her, he realised that the wish she made on her birthday was her only wish.
He couldn’t bring himself to ask about it.
He didn’t want to confess that he was a shadow of his former self, he had hit rock bottom and didn’t know where else to go.

   “It’s not like that,” Erna said.
“A wish is a precious thing, do you really think I would waste it wishing for you to disappear?”

   “What was your wish then?”

   “I made a wish for our baby, my poor baby, who was taken from me like that…”

   Bjorn’s mind went blank and he lost focus of everything.
Erna burst into tears.
They flowed effortlessly down her cheeks, soaking her face in a swift, unending stream.

   “I wished for our child to find a good place to rest, does that answer satisfy you? It might not mean anything to you, but it was precious to me.” Erna looked like a lost child.
All Bjorn could do was look at her, finding it hard to speak a word.

   “In truth, I never thought I would have a child.
People always said that Princess Gladys bore you a son, so, if I couldn’t conceive, it must be my fault.
What could I do, if I ended up being a wife that couldn’t even do her duty? When I finally had a child, it was a source of solace for me, during times when I was too terrified to face reality.”

   Erna let the tears flow as she dug up the memories she so dearly wanted to forget.
She struggled to see Bjorn’s face because of the gloom and the blurred, watery vision, in a way, that was a blessing.

   “Despite the unfavourable circumstance, I was unreservedly happy when I became pregnant.
That happiness was amplified because it coincided with the joyous time we had here, in Buford.
It felt like another miracle and whether you liked it or not, it was our baby.”

   The memories of that fateful day scratched at her mind.
When the child left her, she was consumed by boundless despair and pain, which all came to the surface once more with vivid intensity.
It tormented Erna like the relentless storm outside.

“Perhaps, as everyone has said, there is a sense of relief that I can maintain the position of Grand Duchess thanks to that child.
It’s obvious now.
When I think about it, I have no right to claim that my child is precious.
What kind of mother am I?”

    Erna felt mixed emotions, crying and laughing at the same time.
Losing her child made her feel like she was finally facing her true self, the self she had been avoiding on purpose.

   “Of it all, Bjorn, I hate myself more than anything, not you.
Even though you kept hurting me, I still loved you, you who left me and my child lonely to the very last and even though I was so sick, and miserable, my heart could not stop loving you.
I hated myself for that, I tried to deceive myself into believing I didn’t love you, thinking that it was the only way I could survive at your side.” 

    Erna felt mixed emotions, crying and laughing at the same time.
Losing her child made her feel like she was finally facing her true self, the self she had been avoiding on purpose.

   “Erna, I…”

   Bjorn still struggled to find his voice, but he couldn’t utter a single word.
Instead, he lifted his hand from her shoulder and cupped her face gingerly.
With care, he wiped away the tears.
His cool touch barely made her cry even hotter.

   “Even so, it was difficult to bear.
It was terrifying and suffocating.
That’s why I left you.
I couldn’t bare the idea of loving you again and even now, I still feel the same way.”

As tears filled her eyes, the memory of that night came rushing back.
She vividly remembered escaping from the room, beautifully decorated like a flower, while Bjorn’s face lingered in her thoughts.

   If she no longer loved Bjorn, she could have lived with that, she could have happily endured his absences and not been so bothered by it.
She could have lived peacefully, surrounded by the everlasting beauty like her flowers, but she did love him.

   “I hate myself for being shaken, even though I was well aware that I loved a mere illusion.
I don’t want to live with this pain any more and I loath myself for anticipating it all the time.
Bjorn, I am tormented and filled with fear.”

   The sobbing and rapid breaths were becoming too much and grew in intensity, so much so that she struggled to maintain control over her own body.
At times, she found it hard to even comprehend the words she was saying.

   The only thing she could see was Bjorn.
His calm expression, the warmth of his soft touch wiping away her tears and the embrace of his arms wrapping around her, supporting her trembling body.

‘I’m sorry Erna.’ He said as he held her tight.  ‘I’m so sorry…’

He repeated the words several times in hushed tones.
Erna couldn’t tell if it was real, or the illusion of her fractured mind.

*.·:·.✧.·:·.*

“I can’t believe how quickly the weather can turn like that, you wouldn’t have been able to guess there was a blizzard last night,” Lisa said.

   Erna had been sitting in silence, frozen, clutching a teacup who’s contents had long since turned cold.
She finally lifted her head and looked at Lisa.
The gentle sunlight streamed in as Lisa opened the curtains.
As the light grew brighter, Erna’s swollen eyes stood out even more.

   “Would you like to go for a walk, your Highness? You missed your usual morning stroll.” Lisa pretended not to see the exhaustion on Erna’s face.

   All Lisa knew about last night was that there was a snowstorm, the Prince returned and Erna ended the night in tears.
Based on those facts alone, Lisa could guess what happened.
He was indeed a poisonous mushroom.

   “Lets go outside and get some fresh air, come on your Highness, I will help you make a snowman.”

   “A snowman?” Erna’s vacant stare focused for the first time in hours.
Lisa chuckled, anticipating the reaction and helped Erna stand.

   “I’ll erect a snowman bigger than the one in your cookie jar,” Lisa said.
“In fact, I happen to be really good at making snowmen.
You’ll be amazed by my skills.”

   Erna chuckled at Lisa’s playful boast and slowly got herself dressed into fresh, clean clothes, with Lisa’s help.

   Looking down at the snow-covered garden of Baden House, Lisa felt a surge of excitement.
She was filled with renewed enthusiasm, knowing that this was the perfect place to create her masterpiece snowman.

*.·:·.✧.·:·.*

Bjorn was roused by the incessant knocking at his door.
The attendant didn’t seem to get the message that Bjorn wanted to be left alone and would continue until granted entry.

   “…come in!” Bjorn shouted in annoyance.

   As he struggled to sit up, his body felt heavy under the light cotton blankets, he could hear sobbing as the door opened, as if he was still in the drawing room with Erna.

   “Your Highness.”

   “I’m sorry about yesterday…” Bjorn halted his speech, which was on the verge of turning into a tirade, but instead, he just offered a simple apology.

   Yesterday’s events were certainly crazy, it could not be defined any other way.
As the train left Schuber early in the morning, they received word of the worsening storm, but Bjorn refused to turn around.

   The train stopped at a small town and they were advised that it would be better to find a hotel and wait out the storm.
Bjorn had other ideas, even though he was warned that he could end up being trapped out in the storm.

   They disembarked, fully expecting to wait out the storm, but as the attendant looked around, Bjorn could be seen sprinting down the platform after the departing train and jumping on board.

   “If anything had happened to you, your Highness, I…”

   “I’m fine, as you can see, so stop with the worry.”

   Bjorn rose from the bed and donned a robe he had chucked over the back of a chair.
Once covered, he made his way over to the window.
Once the curtains were drawn, bright light flooded the room.
He sat on the window sill and took in the winter wonderland.

   The sound of woman laughing drew his attention to the garden, where he saw Erna and Lisa playing in the snow,  diligently crafting a snowman.
Erna was adorned in a clumsy, flowery dress, just like the Erna he used to know.

   As he listened to the laughter of the two women, their joy filling the air, a smile crept across his lips.
Bjorn turned to his attendant with a contemplative expression.

   “Are you any good at building snowmen?”

   “Pardon…” The attendant blinked in surprise, finding the question absurd.

Instead of answering, Bjorn simply smiled once more.