Piercing cries and wails broke the sombre atmosphere of the King’s office, filling the room with awkward tension. Arthur Hartford let out a deep, heavy sigh as he took a seat and attempted to comfort his distraught daughter.
“Father, please, you have to ban the book,” Gladys said, eyes bloodshot and swollen. Tears streamed down her puffy red cheeks.
“First, I think you need to calm down and think,” Arthur said.
“This is a blatant violation of the treaty,” Prince Alexander said, who was also trying to calm Gladys. He was more angry than Arthur, who was just anxious.
“What do you mean?”
“How much did you pay Lechen to keep the secret? Yet, they have chosen to betray us with this,” Prince Alexander’s voice grew in force, his eyes blazing with the fires of hatred and anger.
“Are you really suggesting we hold the entire Royal Family accountable for the actions of Gerald Owens sister?”
“The book was published in Lechen, was it not? They should be held accountable for failing to prevent this book being published.”
With Prince Alexander’s angry outbursts and Princess Gladys’ desperate sobs, the room was a cacophony of emotions. Arthur couldn’t help but think of the military agreement that had favoured Lechen, as well as the concession of the maritime trade and resource extraction rights in the fiercely contested territories. There were countless benefits that Bjorn Dniester had received in exchange for covering up Gladys’ infidelity and the realisation of this left Arthur in shock.
The only reason he had agreed to the preposterous conditions was to keep Lars’ shame a secret. If the republican factions got wind of the deceit, it would have created a terrible domestic upheaval.
It was also vital to maintain an alliance with Lechen, their most significant neighbour and ally. Lechen had carefully calculated their benefits to covering up the secret, knowing that it was the Lars family that would suffer the most.
“We were too careless. There was no way this could have stayed secret forever. I should have paid more attention to Mr. Owen,” Arthur said, leaning back in his chair.
When Gerald Owen had committed suicide, Arthur felt a sense of relief. The poet had been buried and he believed the secret was buried with him. He could never have dreamed of facing something like this.
His sister had taken Gerald’s poems and letters to Gladys and got them published, revealing the exchange of love between Gladys and Gerald. It was a diary documenting their love, the child and Owens eventual suicide.
The book had already caused quite a stir in Lechen and was already racing across the seas. Even if they were to find and destroy every single book, there was no stopping the rumours from spreading like wildfire.
The story of the Lars born Princess, who had married the Crown Prince of Lechen, all the while carrying the child of a court poet from Lars was enough to capture the attention of the entire media.
Despite being aware of all the goings on, the Crown Prince took the blame and abdicated from the throne. He took the label of villain in this story and now all the newspapers were revealing the truth with bombastic headlines.
“Father, I implore you, preserve the honour of my son Carl and myself,” Gladys blubbed.
She knelt before her father, pleading to him to preserve her dignity and the honour of the Royal Family. As Arthur Hartford watched his daughter, a deep sense of remorse overcame him.
She had been the youngest princess, cherished and protected. She had never been allowed to experience hardship or pain. The mistake had been in thinking that it would be enough to find her a husband who could cultivate her into a beautiful flower. Provide a reliable and nurturing place to spend the rest of her life.
It was that way of thinking that had led them all to this situation in the first place.
“You should go to Lechen, Alex,” Arthur turned to his son.
He knew that they could not hold Lechen accountable for the situation, but in order to at least provide some semblance of an excuse and quell the public outcry, they needed to look like they were holding Lechen accountable.
“Yes, father,” Prince Alex said, his face a mix of emotion. “I will do everything that I can.”
*.·:·.✧.·:·.*
Bjorn calmly looked at the image of himself plastered all over the newspapers and magazines spread out on the table before him. Leonid remained silent, observing Bjorn’s reactions. Bjorn let out a light laugh, inbetween muttering a few swear words.
“It’s actually a pretty flattering portrait of me, well, except for this one.”
Bjorn’s expression soured as he looked at the last magazine on the table, a weekly publication released by the bishops office. The portrait was one that was made when he graduated collage and he was never happy with the end result.
Bjorn casually picked up a cigar from the ashtray and tugged on it before continuing to flick through the magazines.
“There’s no way to stop the truth now, you know better than anyone,” Leonid said, Bjorn stared off into the distance for a moment before nodding his head.
The book, which had been published by a small press in the capital, had quickly spread through the lands and had become widely available throughout Lechen. The fact that it was written in a foreign language did nothing to slow the spread, all thanks to the media rushing to cover the story and providing key details translated for the populace.
“Fuck the Hartfords,” Bjorn said, leaning back in his chair.
The twin princes and the King had travelled to the capital to confront the news of Gerald Owen’s publication and authenticate the nature of the works. There was bitter debate for days until Gerald’s sister turned up with the original, handwritten, manuscript.
The fact that the poets family could cause such a commotion in Lechen was understandable. In retrospect, Gladys’ surprisingly reckless behaviour made sense, it was likely a long-standing tradition of the Hartford family.
“I’ll manage the next meeting, you go and get some rest,” Leonid said, prodding a newspaper.
“No,” Bjorn said, standing up and adjusted his tie.
Things were a little crazy at first, with people reeling from the juxtaposition of the truth, but now that things were calming down, everyone was able to engage in proper discussions on how to handle public opinion and the aftermath. Bjorn was set to meet with his ministers again.
As the two princes walked together, down the sun filled hallways of the palace, their footsteps echoed trough the halls. Despite his typically bold demeanour, Bjorn couldn’t help but laugh as the reception doors came into view.
Bjorn seemed so carefree, more than usual. With the initial shock of the poets confession of love worn off, Leonid began to see a different side to Bjorn, one he had never noticed before, it was a start contrast to the days when he had decided to lay the blame on his shoulders and relinquish the crown.
It made Leonid wonder if the lie had been the better choice.
Bjorn did not regret his choice. Through his sacrifice, the stability of the noble family served the greater, national, interest. Stepping down from the crown and accepting all the social accusations and scandals was the best thing the Royal Family could have hoped for and it paid off.
But, everything changed when he met Erna. All the cracks that had appeared over the course of the lie were highlighted by her love and she was struggling to get out from under Gladys’ shadow. He was constantly annoyed and frustrated by her attempts, which would only end up with her getting hurt. These feelings only intensified when she fell pregnant.
Bjorn realised too late that he was feeling up with regret. He hated how helpless he felt in front of his wife and Erna was now seeing him as the problematic prince that everyone else saw.
Despite the intense scrutiny and the feeling of being trapped in a snare, Bjorn began to view the uproar as an opportunity. While he knew there would be trouble on the horizon, he remained confident that he could resolve this and move on. The public would forget about this once the next scandal reared its head.
As they approached the reception door, Bjorn wondered if he should play the roll of an almighty god in Erna’s life. Just as he thought about her, he made up his decision to return to Schuber. It had been over a week since Leonid had brought him the book and in that time, he had not seen his wife once.
He left a message with Mrs Fits that he would be staying in the capital and he remembered Erna standing on the balcony that morning, as he left, enjoying the fresh air.
Bjorn shook the distracting thoughts from his mind as he stepped through the door and into the meeting room.
*.·:·.✧.·:·.*
Bjorn still had not returned.
With a deep sense of resignation, Erna turned off the light on the bedside table and plunged the bedroom into darkness. Despite feeling tired and drained, Erna could not get to sleep. She knew that Bjorn would not be coming back, but she remained fixed on the bedroom door, willing it to open and reveal Bjorn.
She was lost and had no idea what was going on. No matter how many times she read the book everyone was talking about, she couldn’t seem to make sense of it.
While she understood the literal meanings of the words written upon the pages and the conversations around her, it was not enough to truly comprehend what was going on.
Erna didn’t want to just understand the situation on the surface, she wanted to truly grasp the deeper meaning behind everything that was going on. She wanted to ask Bjorn, she wanted to hear it from his mouth and believe what he said.
Still, despite the pathetic feeling of having to rely on Bjorn, she eagerly awaited his return. He left without looking at her and had not sent a single letter.
Giving up on the possibility of falling asleep, Erna sat up and switched the lamp back on. Her tired face was illuminated and the dark rings around her eyes spoke of how little sleep she had gotten all week.
In The Name of Love and Abyss.
The book had already been read through several times and the cover was looking worn out and dog eared. If the words within its pages were anything to be believed, than what kind of man was Bjorn Dniester really?
It was becoming difficult for Erna to believe she knew the man at all. She felt like she was living with a complete stranger, the father of her unborn child, with whom she had been married for well over a year now. She couldn’t help but wonder at the meaning of her marriage.
Just as the bitter question crossed her mind, she heard a faint chuckle from beyond the doors. Slow footsteps and a low voice getting closer. Then the doors opened.
Bjorn…It’s him.