The Problematic Prince

m it, to escape to the only place she felt any comfort, only to find herself right back where she started.

She was afraid.

   She was afraid of being wounded by the shattered fragments of her love, the haunting thought that she was going to end up like her mother, who’s love had only brought her loneliness.

   Once the tears subsided, Erna washed her face like she was purifying herself.
She found Bjorn sat at the fireplace, drinking the hot milk and brandy she had prepared for him.
Her eyes narrowed as she noticed the damp hair and ill fitting attire.

   “If you’re still cold, add some more alcohol, it’ll warm you up,” Erna said, offering the bottle of brandy.

   Bjorn looked surprised, but obediently accepted the bottle.
Erna retrieved a blanket from the bed and handed that to Bjorn too, who took it with a bashful grin.
She took a step back and watched him.
She was relieved to find he had not come to any significant harm.

   “It’s still too cold in your room, so you should stay here a little longer.”

   “Erna,” Bjorn suddenly called her while looking the blanket on his back and lap, “What about divorce?”

Erna stopped walking and turned her head to look at him.
“What?”

   “The calf,” Bjorn said.
“The calf I named.”

   Although he had only taken a few sips of the milk and brandy, Erna felt sure that Bjorn was somehow drunk.
She looked at him silently, trying to guess at his game.
She smiled, finding it rather silly.

   “It’s Christa,” Erna said flatly.
“The calf’s name is Christa.”

   “Is that not too grand a name for a calf though?”

   Erna’s expression turned stern.
“I don’t think anyone who would give an animal such a demeaning name like ‘Divorce’ has the right to comment.”

   “Christa…” Bjorn said thoughtfully.
“It worked out well in Schuber…..Your cookie jar has grown considerably.”

   “Your Highness,” 

   “I had planned on bringing you a gift to celebrate, but as you can see, I come empty handed because you dislike my gifts so much,” Bjorn said carefully, looking about the drawing room, last time he was here, it had been stocked with presents.
“Did you put all those presents away?”

   “Yes, the warehouse is fit to explode,” Erna said sarcastically.

   “Did you open any?”

   “No, I left them all as they were, so you can take them back with you, that brooch as well.” Erna’s eyes sparkled like precious gems in the light of the fireplace.

   “But you accepted it.”

   “I only accepted it on the day because I did not want to embarrass you in front of everyone, but the more I think about it, the more I think it would be better if you took it all back.”

   “Why?”

   “Because it feels strange to be receiving expensive jewellery when we are on the verge of divorce,” Erna said.

   “What about the letter? Will you be returning that too?” Bjorn said with a smile.

   Erna struggle with nodding her head.
Bjorn looked at her, noticing her cheeks flush.

   “How was my letter?”

   “How was it?”

   “I’m curious.
Its the first time I’ve ever written a love letter.”

   “Really, what about the one you wrote Gladys? Apparently you have a talent for beautiful letter writing.”

   “Well, what can I say, Lechen is blessed with some of the finest poets.”

   “You mean, you had a ghostwriter write your proposal?”

   “She really thought I had written in?”

   “It’s a letter true to your character,” Erna chuckled.

   “Was that a compliment, or an insult?”

   “Think of it as you wish.
Now stop..”

   “Don’t go,” Bjorn said suddenly, he sounded sincere.
“I wanted to see you, I missed you so much, so I came back.
Erna…”

   A droplet of water fell from his wet hair and ran effortlessly down his nose.
He wiped his face with a shaking hand, tried to swallow a lump in his throat that made it hard to talk and became of the dancing flames in the roaring fireplace.

   “Please don’t go,” he said again.

    Soft words broke the silence between them as they held their breath, locking eyes.
  Outside, the storm continued to howl across Buford.