The Problematic Prince
It was not suitable for a young couple of that age, but they were the pride of Lechen and Lars.
But was the marriage perfect?
Mrs Fitz had often asked herself that question recently.
The Prince she had known since he was a little child, seemed unfamiliar to her these days.
She could not imagine him spending so much time fretting over his wife, only to throw it all away by arguing with her.
Mrs Fitz looked at the Prince, then over to Erna’s bedroom.
Bjorn and Gladys used to be praised on how they seemed like an old couple, like they’d been together for decades, it made her wonder.
“Your Highness,” Mrs Fitz said impulsively, could he really have had an affair? “No, never mind.”
As always, Mrs Fitz buried the question.
It was not the kind of thing she could have brought up casually, even if it was the truth, or other truths existed.
There was no way to find out, if he decided to hide, there was going to be no way to prise it from him.
Bjorn got up from the desk and went over to the door to Erna’s bedroom.
The Prince Mrs Fitz had raised was such a gentleman and she loved him for that.
He knocked confidently on the door.
“Go away,” Erna shouted.
Bjorn frowned and knocked again with more force, making the handle rattle.
“Open the door, Erna.”
“No, I don’t want to.
My bed is expensive.”
“It means you can not come and go as you please,” her cry was ferocious, like a beast.
“Erna, you’d better open this door.”
Bjorn was laughing, more out of surprise and knocked on the door again.
The harder he knocked, the louder Erna shouted and the dark, quiet halls of the Grand Palace was filled with the battle of newly-wed’s.
Surprised by the disturbance, maids and servants filtered out and gathered around to listen.
“You really think I can’t open this door if you don’t open up?”
Bjorn was no longer relaxed, or wore a smile like this was some big jest.
The servants looked at each other, what were they going to do if the Prince asked for the key to the door?
The Prince took a breath and calmed himself.
He backed away from the door, but never once took his cool, cold eyes from the lock.
He looked like a predator about to pounce and unless the servants intervened quickly, he was really going to open the door with a kick.
“Who do you think is going to lose out in the end, Erna?” Bjorn shook off the servant holding him back.
“Well, it’s certainly not going to be my loss!”
Bjorn took a deep breath and swallowed dryly.
It looked like he was controlling his anger, but anyone looking closer would be able to see the vein’s popping in his head.
“I don’t want to see you, so go away and before you even think of it, the couple’s passage is also locked.”
This woman…she’s out of mind. Bjorn thought.
This deer was definitely a mad.
“If you don’t open this door and come out right now, you’ll never see my face again,” Bjorn’s was quite serious in his threat.
“Wow, thank you so much for your consideration!”
The onlookers witnessing the fight grew embarrassed and wondered if they should have given the couple space.
“If you need a doll, go ask your nanny.
A pretty doll, the ones that all the princes like!”
“Fine, let’s see who will lose out in the end,” Bjorn turned away from the door with a laugh.
Surprised, the by-standers hurried back, lowering their eyes.
There was only one, Mrs Fitz, who dared not move and looked at the prince.
“Congratulations on your first fight,” she said.
From his first cry, his first babble, or his first step, she always congratulated him on every Prince’s ‘first.’ “Do you need me to fetch you a doll?”
Bjorn’s brow wrinkled at the question, it was a different look to the one he had just been wearing during the fight, like he was seriously considering it.
After staring into space for awhile, Bjorn turned as if nothing had happened.
He walked back to his room at a leisurely pace.
His anger was still brimming on the surface, as he slammed his bedroom door.
“Yup, he’s our prince,” someone muttered.
“Why, were you expecting another Leonid?” Mrs Fitz said.
Some of the other servants muttered to themselves, or whispered to each other, “oh my god, that’s our prince.”
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