The Problematic Prince - Chapter 138 - Ten Minutes

“What about Ella, or Sylvia?” Lisa said rattling off names. “Or maybe Christa? Does it give off too noble vibe?”

Erna took naming the calf seriously. Once it had eaten up the hay, the calf returned to its mothers side in the cattle pen, the two ladies contained in the vacant cattle pen.

Ralph Royce leaned on the door frame and smiled at the two women arguing over a name, like they didn’t know the calf would be sold on once it was old enough.

The decision to bring the calf to the Baden Estate was purely because of Erna. She cared for the young animal with as much love and tenderness as any mother with a baby, but fortunately, Baroness Baden understood that it would not be staying here indefinitely.

“Mr. Royce, is Lisa here?”

Ralph turned to see another serving girl rushing over.

“Yes, she’s over there.”

As the maid rushed over to Lisa, Ralph was startled by yet another visitor, this time, it was the Prince.

“I have come for the horse,” Bjorn said to the stableman.

“Yes, of course, let me fetch him for you.”

“No, that’s okay, I shall do it,” Bjorn said reassuringly, as he watched Lisa get carted off by the other maid. He smiled at her and put a finger to his lips. “Shh, leave quietly Lisa, before I fire you.”

Lisa glared at the Prince, her expression tinged with resentment and sadness, she couldn’t contain herself and feigned a coughing fit. Unfortunately, Erna was not perceptive enough and did not notice.

Bjorn closed the stable doors behind Lisa and made his way to the pen Erna was still stood in. Erna finally noticed Bjorn’s approach as she paced the pen, muttering to herself.

“Did you purposely send Lisa away?” Erna said sharply.

“No, of course not, the Baroness Baden needed her for something, I just came to get a horse,” Bjorn responded with a smile. The calf matched Lisa’s vivid portrayal in the letter, sporting a lively tuft of fur and a gracefully tied ribbon around its neck. There was no doubt about whose sense of style it reflected.

“Is that so?” Erna said, scrutinising Bjorn as he approached the calf and gently stroked it along its neck and back.

“You misunderstand me so much.”

“What?”

“What is it you think I’m up to? I told you, I’m only here to go horse riding,” Bjorn said, gesturing to his attire, “but if I am intruding, I can leave the two of you alone.”

“No, its fine, go ride your horse,” Erna said, her brow furrowed in irritation.

“Erna.”

“I’ll just go find Lisa.”

Erna turned to leave, but she let out a yelp as Bjorn caught her arm. He interposed himself between Erna and the door, blocking her path.

“You always run away,” Bjorn sighed. “Just give me ten minutes, okay?” Bjorn released his grip, it wasn’t tight, but the look on Erna’s face suggested it might have been. “If you don’t even allow that, I think there might be a big misunderstanding.”

“What misunderstanding?”

“That you still love me. You keep running away because you’re afraid of your true feelings and if you stay around for too long, you might be forced to realise those feelings, or something.”

Contrary to the light smirking tone on Bjorn’s face, Erna glared at him with hatred. Bjorn pulled out a pocket watch and Erna sighed.

“Now is…ten twenty five,” Bjorn said.

“Fine, I will be leaving at exactly ten thirty five.”

“Were you not in the middle of a conversation with the calf?” Bjorn offered his first question, wasting the first minute. His tone was no longer playful, it was low and gentle.

“I was naming it with Lisa. We decided not to sell it and raise it by it ourselves.” Erna said.

“Seems you put a lot of sincerity in naming the calf.”

“Don’t mock me, its important to me, okay?”

“Erna.”

Erna let out a sigh and turned her head away to look at the calf, which was now suckling on its mothers teat. Its white coat was dappled with brown spots, something she inherited from her mother.

Bjorn felt like he understood why Erna was so close to the mother and calf. She must be thinking about their lost child when looking at the pair, which was why she had developed a special connection with the animals.

A sudden surge of anger welled up in Bjorn toward Erna, who had ran off in the middle of the night and sent divorce papers through the post. It was an unfamiliar anger that made him want to scream out like a madman, but his heart remained cold.

“You have five minutes,” Erna informed Bjorn.

Bjorn shifted his gaze from the ribbon adorned cow and looked at Erna. It felt like there was a lingering scent of blood on the tip of his nose.

Among the items that had been removed on that fateful day, there was something of no real notice, but Bjorn remembers them very clearly. Tiny baby socks, meticulously crafted with fine thread and was so unbelievably small, he could only fit a single finger in them. The pattern on the socks resembled the sweets Erna loved so much, right down to the tiny ribbons.

Bjorn inspected every baby item the servants brought to him and with there no longer being a child to wear, or play with the items, there was only one thing to be said for each. He told the servants, one by one, to throw the items away. It made him feel like he was losing his sanity with each item that was discarded.

‘Throw it away.’

Putting down the socks he had been holding for a long time, Bjorn eventually ordered them to be disposed of as well and that night, the objects turned to ashes and memory, just like their first child.

Bjorn clenched his fist, still feeling the lingering touch of those socks and he realised that Erna wasn’t the only one that was running away. A sense of desolation came over him.

“You have two minutes,” Erna said. “Why did you ask to talk to me and yet, not say anything?”

“A…gift,” Bjorn said, looking at the calf as it playfully mooed. “Tell me what gift you would like.”

“A gift?”

“Yes, its your birthday soon and I’ve already proven I am not as good at you in picking out perfect gifts.”

“Ten minutes. That’s your lot,” Erna said coldly. “As promised and the only gift I want from you is a divorce, nothing else and I will not be dating.”

Erna was as emotionless as she could manage. Her cold tone left a frosty mark on Bjorn as she turned away and left the cattle pen. Bjorn noticed the pink ribbon in her hair, the same colour as the calf was wearing. It was irritating, but at the same time it was lovely none the less.

“I’ll name the calf for you, then,” Bjorn laughed. “Just call it divorce.”

“What do you mean?” Erna said, looking back as she tried to open the gate of the pen.

“It seems to be your favourite word these days,” Bjorn teased as he turned and made his way towards the stable where his horse awaited.

The calf let out another discontented moo, seemingly unhappy with the name Bjorn had bestowed upon it. Erna could only shoot a disapproving glare before departing shortly thereafter.

Meanwhile, Bjorn, all set to embark on his horse ride, guided the horse out of the stable.

*.·:·.✧.·:·.*

The snow white horse galloped unrestrained. The rhythmic sound of its hooves pounding the earth of the desolate field merged with the rustle of dried, frozen grasses.

Bjorn aimed the horse for a secluded clearing deep in the woods, took the time to enjoy his own company, smoked a few cigars then rode back to the mansion. Once there, he called the attendent from Schuber Palace.

“You need to go to Schuber,” Bjorn said, flicking off ash that had clung to his jacket. “There’s much that needs to be prepared, so get Mrs Fitz to help and make sure to contact the palace in advance. I need this organised by my wife’s birthday, is that understood, do you think you can handle it?”

“Yes, of course, Your Highness,” the servant said with a dry gulp.

****