Gifts flooded into Baden Mansion, creating a mountain of gifts in the hallway that left everyone speechless. Erna’s expression was a mix of astonishment and unease, it was a sight that evoked an all-too-familiar and uneasy memory.
“Erna, what on earth is all this?” the startled Baroness said.
“Greetings, Your Highness,” a servant said, handing over one final, small gift.
It was Bjorn’s own attendant, the only one he had brought from Schuber. Behind him were the rest of the workers, who all bowed in unison out of respect for the Prince’s wife.
“These are the things the Prince has prepared for you, Your Highness.”
“Thank you,” Erna said, “you’ve all worked so very hard.”
Erna first expressed her gratitude with the appropriate courtesy. It was such an absurd situation, but with so many eyes on her, she had to behave with dignity and hide her true feelings.
This had Bjorn Dniester written all over it and once the last servant finally left, she looked at the pile of gifts red faced from barely contained frustration. She wanted to set fire to the whole damn pile.
“I’m sorry Grandma,” Erna said to the Baroness. “I’m going to go lay down for a bit.”
He hasn’t changed one bit
Her anger boiled over. She had anticipated Bjorn’s presence would dampen the mood of her birthday, but she never thought he would go this far again.
“Erna.”
As soon as Erna made it to the hallway, she heard the voice of the uninvited guest. She let out a sigh of resignation. To her surprise, Bjorn was casually approaching her, with a sincere smile on his face. It bore the same tenderness as it did on her twentieth birthday and that only made it more devastating.
“I see the gifts have arrived,” he said.
“Yes, you selfish bastard, they were all well received.” Erna looked at Bjorn with as calm an expression as she could manage.
“What do you mean?” Bjorn said, the smile vanishing and replaced with a look of concern.
“Were the scars you have me last year not enough for you? Did you not think about the rumours that would spread from preparing such extravagant gifts, or how difficult those rumours would make my life?”
“What, don’t talk like that, its all for you.”
“For me? How can you think that showering me with lavish gifts would solve anything? If you truly respect me, if you understand even a little of what I’m going through, you’ll take the presents back and sign the divorce papers.”
“Erna, I…”
“Take everything back,” Erna shouted. Tears flowed unrestrained down Erna’s cheeks.
She had hoped and as she watched the gifts pile up, that hope was once again shattered into a million pieces.
“Please, I’m begging you Bjorn.”
Erna, tears streaming down her face, pleaded desperately.
*.·:·.✧.·:·.*
The afternoon wore on and snow began to drift lightly from the sky. It was the same snowfall that had graced Erna’s birthday last year.
Bjorn sat on the windowsill, looking out at the countryside that was gradually turning white. The cigar he had been smoking was left to smoulder in the ash tray and the untouched brandy was left neglected.
He was making his mind up to leave. If Erna despised him so much that she would beg him to leave through hot tears, then he would go.
The urge didn’t last long. When he made it to his room to start packing, his stubbornness prevailed. He didn’t want to go until he had given Erna something good. Not because he thought he could buy her love back, but because she was worth that much to him. The gift he had picked out was one born of love and a desire to give her something deserving.
Bjorn got down off the windowsill and pulled at the knot of his tie, which felt like it was restricting and choking.
The house was always naturally quiet, but right now, there was a heavier silence shrouding it. Bjorn couldn’t escape the realisation that he was the source of the solemn atmosphere.
The memory of Erna in tears came to his mind in a vivid hallucination, superimposed upon the snowy landscape. He remembered she had wept last year too and the source of that was also him.
He had always delighted in his wife’s beautiful smile, but struggled with her laughter. When it came to matters of Erna, he was completely clueless and often found himself at a loss.
Bjorn picked up a glass and sipped at the cool water to moisten his lips.
Erna remained locked in her room. At this rate, her birthday would pass without her being in attendance of it, just like last year, when no one remembered the Grand Duchess’ birthday.
Bjorn set down the glass and started pacing about the room, lost in contemplation. He was well aware that leaving after agreeing to the divorce was the course Erna wanted, but Bjorn knew it was impossible.
He didn’t mind being called selfish, or self-centred. He would rather be a bastard than lose Erna, but being a bastard was what was pushing Erna away. As long as he could have her at his side, he was willing to bare what ever role and title people wanted to put on him.
But what was the best course of action for a bastard?
The more he thought about it, the more complicated it got and the more his head spun with inconceivable thoughts. Until he stopped and stared at the gift he had gone through a lot of effort to acquire. Laying on the bed was a bouquet of Lily of Valley he had gotten sent over from Schuber.
Bjorn picked up the bouquet. Once a symbol of Princess Gladys, now just a pretty little, white and simple flower. Just like Erna.
Bjorn sat on the edge of the bed and stared at the Lillies in his hand for a long while. When he looked up, darkness was already spreading beyond the window.
Setting the bouquet aside, Bjorn decided against ringing the service bell and lit the candles himself. He then sat at the desk, found the stationary he needed in a drawer and found the conviction to write a letter.
To Erna.
The pen scratched at the paper as he guided it around the letters. The minutes ticked by, but he couldn’t get his mind to work on what the opening paragraph should be. The expensive sheet of paper help only two, simple, small words.
Bjorn swiftly discarded the sheet of paper and replaced it with a fresh one. The gold letterhead shone under the lamp light, its radiance casting a shimmer on his face.
My Dearest Erna.
At least the start had shown some sign of improvement, but was left with an innate tone he wasn’t sure was appropriate and it didn’t sit well with him.
Repeatedly writing the first line, then crumpling up the piece of paper and discarding it to the corner of the room, Bjorn generated a large pile of scrapped paper.
After botching the fifth letter, Bjorn leaned back in his chair and set the pen aside. Habitually, he brought a cigar up to his lips, but didn’t light it. The sight of him writing a letter to a woman just across the hall, but equally out of reach as if she was on the other side of the world, must have been comical.
Understand, consider and respect.
Bjorn slowly repeated the concepts his wife valued so much. His gaze fixated on the ethereal dance of the snow beyond the window. Within the enchanting scene, he could see Erna when he found her at the dome of Felia Cathedral.
Erna, who he had hurt and despite everything, who had loved him. He felt like he could almost understand that emotion she felt on that night, in the moment he faced her pretty and pitiable face.
Setting aside the cigar, he looked down at the desk. The warm glow of the lamp illuminated his face and as if engaged in battle, Bjorn stared at the empty sheet of paper. The sound of the pen gliding across its surface began to pierce the silence of the evening.
*.·:·.✧.·:·.*
The table was filled with artificial flowers, there was no space for any more, but Erna continued to work diligently. She had been at it all day and not at all seemed like someone that was celebrating their twenty first birthday.
Until the morning argument with the Prince, until now, she had locked herself in her room and did the only thing that brought her joy. She had no desire to join the dinner table either.
“Um, Your Highness? Its about time for dinner,” Lisa said, poking her head around the door.
Erna finally raised her head and looked at Lisa with blank eyes.
“Lisa…I…”
Before Erna could say anything, there was a commotion behind the door and Lisa came in with another servant.
“Your Highness.” The servant came into the room, carrying a large bouquet of white flowers.
“What’s your business?” Lisa said, in a less than polite tone. The Prince is a villain, so naturally his servants are too.
“The Prince has commanded me to deliver these straight to the Grand Duchess.” He looked at Erna, completely ignoring Lisa.
“What is this?” Erna said
“Flowers, Your Highness and a letter.”