The Problematic Prince - Side Story 3 - Gravity and Repulsion

A crested Rooster. Elegant Irises. A lazy cat just waking from a nap.

Erna envisioned the various scenes that reminded her of Buford as she sat in the splendid banquet hall. The tension in her chest eased a little and although Countess Meyer had been a heartless chaperone, she was deeply grateful of her teaching that little trick.

“Are you bored?” Clara Rocher said.

“No, not at all,” Erna said quickly and smiled.

Erna became suddenly aware of the dozens of eyes looking at her, she was startled, but quickly banished the feeling.

Calming her fluttering heart, Erna rejoined the conversation as each person discussed their travel plans, where they were visiting, social events they were attending and the predictability of unexpected happenings. The small orchestra continued their melody as they talked.

“Your Highness, would you like to join me?”

A polite voice cut through the hum of chatter, requesting a dance. It was Mr Winfield, the one who had organised this little party.

“I wish that I could, but the champagne you served was quite fruity and light, I seem to have drunk more than my fair share.” Erna pointed to her empty glass and the empty bottle beside it. “Thank you for the honour of the first dance, but I fear I will only make a fool of myself in my stupor. I will cherish your kind heart Mr Winfield.”

Taking into consideration his poor Lechen, Erna conveyed her polite refusal in a clear tone and slower than usual. It would have been proper etiquette to accept Mr Winfield’s request, but it seemed unlikely that she would be able to get close to another man under this guise.

Erna was wearing an outfit that blended well with the public event, but was very uncomfortable. The dress revealed a lot of her bosom and shoulders, suggesting a lack of morality.

Despite feeling awkward, Erna resisted the temptation to wear a shawl and smiled politely. Mr Winfield looked disappointed, but thankfully he did not insist. There was still a sense of admiration as he promised he would catch her next time.

He went off to dance with the Duchess of Berg instead. When they danced together, everyone’s attention was on them. Erna was relived to be freed from public scrutiny and let out a sigh of relief.

Despite breaking out in a cold sweat and feeling her voice tremble a little, she was filled with tremendous joy. She had managed to maintain her composure, a significant improvement from past attempts at social interactions, when she would become flustered and frightened under the scrutinising gaze of others.

Taking a sip of water to moisten her lips, Erna sat upright and observed the lively boat party. Even though she was a dignified Grand Duchess, she couldn’t help but smile to herself.

She couldn’t wait to get back to Bjorn and boast about her accomplishments. She was going to recount everything, emphasising on how well she had done. Reflecting on it, she didn’t feel too sorry for Bjorn’s absence, being alone gave her the opportunity to embellish her tale.

The enchanting fairytale that Lechen now adored their Grand Duchess served as a protective shield for Erna’s heart. Once she started to believe in herself, she was able to shed the feeling that she was an unworthy fool and she could face the world at her own pace.

Naturally, the magic didn’t happen overnight and just because Princess Gladys’ shadow had been lifted, didn’t meant there weren’t those that still didn’t believe Erna should have been Grand Duchess. Erna was well aware that such people were still around her, but their opinions no longer inflicted as deep a wound as they used to.

‘I love you, Erna’ Her whole world had changed with Bjorn’s confession of love. It might sound strange, but it was the undeniable truth.

As the waltz came to an end, Erna quickly straightened her posture and tidied up her attire. A commotion broke out by the hall’s entrance and gradually spread across the hall.

“Your Highness, your Highness, look over there,” Clara Rocher said excitedly.

Clara hurriedly approached Erna, her steps quick and light, her voice filled with excitement. Erna looked over at the entrance and let out an involuntary gasp as she watched a wolf enter the hall.

It was a her magnificent and large wolf, exuding a striking beauty.

*.·:·.✧.·:·.*

Upon recognising the Prince of Lechen, the guests of the party bowed their heads politely and stepped aside to clear a path. Bjorn bowed politely in return and found the constant need to dismiss the maids tiresome.

The meeting had failed to hold his attention and throughout the evening, he came to realise that he had been excessively irritable. It was painfully obvious as to why, the truth was undeniable. The feeling that had been persisting since the start of the journey, or maybe even the moment he returned to Schuber, holding Erna’s hand.

Bjorn looked at Erna, his gaze as deep as the moonlit sea as he contemplated his longing for her. Erna was different to how she used to be, her eyes filled with love. Her smile was the same as always though, but he still couldn’t shake off an unsettling feeling of disparity.

Bjorn came to stand in front of Erna with the slightest gap between them, a gap that he still couldn’t quite bridge.

“Bjorn?” Erna said, in wide eyed astonishment, her voice tinged with confusion. The anticipation of seeing her delighted missed the mark.

Bjorn leaned over and kissed the back of his wife’s hand with a sense of pride. The onlookers erupted into loud whispers and Bjorn stood beside Erna, still holding the hand he had just kissed.

“Look at this,” Erna said.

Bjorn turned his gaze to his wife and could see a mischievous glint in her eyes, along with a hint of competitiveness. As he habitually checked his pocket watch, he could see his own pitiful face reflected back. The only reason Erna had attended a party she had no interest in was simply because she was this woman now, this mischievous woman.

“His Highness, the Grand Duke, I was saddened when I heard you could not make it, but now here you are.”

“Ah, Mr Winfield,” said Bjorn with a light, charming smile. “The meeting was concluded ahead of schedule.” Bjorn intertwined his fingers with Erna’s and held on tight to the woman that was trying to get away. “It was hard to bare, because I wanted to spend some time with my wife.”

The onlookers burst out laughing at the words to expertly placed. Bjorn glanced down at Erna, her cheeks went a deep red. Bjorn realised he might have done something stupid, but it was worth it.

The Prince of Lechen is crazy about his wife. That rumour would be circulating the ship by the morning.

*.·:·.✧.·:·.*

The panic caused by the Prince’s sudden appearance calmed only when the orchestra roused for the next dance. Erna, now freed from the people that had crowded round to meet the Prince, dragged Bjorn off to a discreet corner of the hall.

“Bjorn, how did this happen?” A faint sense of heat lingered on Erna’s cheeks and earlobes as she hissed. Bjorn continued to smile with a raised eyebrow.

“As I said, meetings are boring and I wanted to see my wife, besides, I was getting annoyed at all those men staring at your chest.”

“Oh my god, what an unbelievably rude thing to say.”

“Me, rude?”

“Yes, I didn’t realise the Grand Duke was so unfashionable, so un-pre-ten-tious.”

“Wow, I didn’t know my wife was such a leading authority in matters of fashion.”

“Oh, sure, tonight alone I have received so many compliments for my beautiful dress, from men and ladies,” Erna said forcefully, trying to make her point clear. There was a shameful feeling too, but that didn’t mean it was the dress.

“So, it doesn’t mean that I never dress to demean the position of the Grand Duchess,” Erna said.

“I know.” Bjorn said, nodding and raised his eyes.

Erna became mesmerised by those cold, grey eyes and couldn’t help but sigh softly. Initially, using being drunk as an excuse to decline a dance, she felt as if she were truly intoxicated now.

“Then why are you criticising my dress?”

Bjorn smiled at the carefully constructed question. “I was not criticising.”

“So, what then?”

“Well, jealousy, perhaps.” Bjorn’s playful expression became serious and Erna caught the shift in mood.

“Stop, don’t do this,” Erna said after awhile. “I am working hard.”

“Working hard?”

“Yes, I am trying really hard to not rely on and expect too much from you, like I used to.”

Erna recalled the strict rule she had set to prevent repeating past mistakes. Bjorn would never know how many times she had made that promise to herself, standing before the destiny of love.

“So, Bjorn, don’t do this. I’m so confused when you do this, it shakes my heart.” Erna shared her thoughts with a serious expression, carefully explaining herself. It felt like she was teaching a child.

“Then I guess I will have to shake it some more,” Bjorn said, frowning playfully. “I like it when you fret.”

Was it a sincere joke, or a heartfelt joke? The boundary remained incredibly hard to perceive, but one thing remained clear, the man was a bad guy. In fact, he was decidedly unpleasant.