The Problematic Prince
She gave Lisa a glare that made the maid shrink away, before locking her eyes on Erna.
“Guests have arrived, your highness.” The old woman said.
“A guest? Ah yes.” Erna said.
She was suddenly reminded of the days itinerary that Mrs Fitz had briefed her on that morning.
The only thing of any note was a royal tutor coming to teach Erna what, she didn’t know yet.
“Lisa, could you tidy up the clothes, while I’m away.” Without waiting Erna turned to Mrs Fitz.
The meeting went on for far longer than was scheduled and once concluded, the study fell into deep silence.
Exhausted from the battle with the bank’s director, Bjorn drank his cold tea in silence and sparked a cigar into life.
Fatigue from the repetitively busy schedule reminded him of his duties when he was the crown prince.
It was a forced march that made him constantly weary.
“I’ll deposit all my savings into the bank.” Something Bjorn was forced to agree to thanks to his fathers unconventional condition.
His father was very skilled, he had awe for his father, who had baited him with something he could never refuse.
It made him chuckle lightly.
He had been offered a considerable amount and the symbolism of managing the kings fortune caused the banks to practically go to war with each other.
This in a time where the banks controlled the capital market, whom so ever got to look after the kings fortune, would also gain royal favour.
It felt like Bjorn was taking more than just the bait.
The first destination on the royal honeymoon was Lars, which was the most important political destination.
It was also a very important visit for his bank too, as he was going to gobble up one of Lars’ insolvent commercial banks.
“Shall we begin the merger then.” Bjorn had concluded the meeting, extinguishing his half smoked cigar.
The directors, who had settled in for a long debate, rose from their seats with grinning faces full of joy.
They hurriedly left the study, leaving Bjorn half laid out in his chair.
Bjorn was eager to get this under way, mostly because it meant he could relax on the boat during the crossing.
Come to think of it, his wife, Erna, the Grand Duchess, must be finished preparing to leave by now.
At that moment, when Bjorn remembered the radiant and pale face of his beautiful wife, he heard the bank directors exclaim at the door “Ah, your highness.” It seemed like they ran into Erna on their way out.
Bjorn massaged his own neck as he turned to face the door and saw Erna come into the study.
She stepped forward with urgent meaning in her gait.
“Bjorn, can we talk for a second.” she asked.
Her tone was more agitated than usual.
Bjorn sat up right and nodded, while Erna came across the room and sat in the chair opposite facing him.
“What’s the matter, Erna?” Bjorn said slowly, he was studying Erna’s hair and the elaborate shape of the bun braid.
Her maid was improving quite well.
“I heard it was you who asked Mrs Fitz to teach me, that.” Erna eventually said, after a couple false starts.
“Ah, that.” Bjorn nodded calmly.
He reached forward and took up the glass of water on the table.
Erna looked off to the side, embarrassment flushing her cheeks.
She gave them a little rub before turning back to Bjorn again.
It seemed that she had not learned very well.
“Did you not come because I was too clumsy, or because I was ignorant?” Erna asked.
“What, me not coming?” Though confused by the question, Bjorn remained flat and cool.
“You never came to my bedroom, not since that day.” Erna said.
Her delicate little hands twisted the hem of her dress as she spoke with a trembling voice.
The conscious smile slowly melted from Bjorn’s face as he became more aware of Erna.
“Well, if you know that, then shouldn’t you be doing your part, not here?” Bjorn let out a sigh.
The real reason he had not returned to Erna since that night was that he was just plain busy.
He had to stay in the capital and could not return to the Palace when he would like.
Of course, he couldn’t tell Erna that, he had to leave her believing what she believed.
The pleasure of his wife’s body was great, but he did not want to have to go through the trouble of dealing with her ignorance again.
He will come to her again, when she is ready to be a proper wife.
Erna would wait for him.
“I have a lot…I know I am lacking, in that respect.
I realise that I got married without know the things I should know, as a wife.” Erna said.
She had been looking down at her feet as she spoke.
“I am really sorry.”
Mrs Peg, who was said to have taught all the royal ladies the work of the bedchamber, was a gentle and kind person.
Erna followed easily, as she explained what was expected of her, step by step.
As soon as Mrs Peg mentioned anything sexual, Erna lost all consciousness and fell away into an absent coma.
Erna couldn’t stand it and in the end, bolted from the class room, spraying apologies to Mrs Peg on the way out.
“I will learn.” Erna said to Bjorn.
“I know it’s part of my role, I will not shirk my responsibilities, but…” Erna paused to catch her breath.
“But I don’t want anyone else to teach me, if at all possible…Bjorn, I want you to teach me.”
“What?” Bjorn said after taking a moment to fight off the drunken haze muddling his thoughts in the face of his wife’s demands, and even though he had just scolded her for skipping her duties, she was scolding him for skipping his.
“You are my husband, so teach me.” Erna said, firmly.
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