The Problematic Prince
Chapter Side Story 23 - Father's Premonition

✧Father’s Premonition✧

*.·:·.✧.·:·.*

Erna looked out of the carriage at the setting sun, she could feel it spark joy in her heart and maybe the baby felt it too. It felt like the days were melting away all too fast. Her belly had grown considerably, each time she consciously stroked it, it got bigger during her stay at Buford. She could also blame that on the considerable amount of food Mrs Greve provided at each meal.

   Did the baby just move, or was it the bump of the carriage?

   “Hello sweetie,” Erna said as she felt around for more movement. She tapped a finger as if knocking on a front door.  She noticed a tiny fetal wiggle last night. Yet, by the time Bjorn awoke, the little one was at rest again.

   Sitting next to her, reminding her of his presence, Bjorn let out a soft laugh watching his wife. He reached forward and placed a hand on hers as she stroked. He closed his eyes without saying anything and Erna wondered if it was more to do with the alcohol than arbitrariness.

   “Bjorn?”

   “Hmm…” His eyes remained closed.

   “Are you okay?” Erna, bearing a look of worry, took in the strong scent of alcohol from her husband.

  Bjorn nodded his head slowly.

  “You can’t drink too much from now on.”

   “Yes…”  Bjorn murmured.

   “You will also have to cut down on the cigars.”

   “Of course…” Bjorn said, as if speaking from a dream.

“Please, take me seriously. We have a child now. How will our baby think of you when they see you like this?”

“Buford’s best man, no doubt.”

   Erna was surprised that Bjorn was so pliable, she expected a little more of a fight. She was speechless for a moment and simply blinked her eyes a few times. Bjorn opened his and looked directly at her.

   As the two stared at each other in silence, the carriage pulled along a country road. The sun had set and a purple twilight hung over the fields. The evening light, with its beautiful harmony, set the brazen man’s face in a deep shadow.

   Don’t laugh, Erna told herself, but it was hard to contain. As she started to laugh, Bjorn let out a giggle at the same time.

   “I agree, you are the best man in Buford, able to master any challenge the festival can bring up.” Erna laughed as she shook her head. Drinking too much was bad, but it was festival day and he drank for his wife and child, there was something romantic about that.

   She smiled to herself as she thought about how she was going to tell their child the story. She might leave out the embarrassment of riding on the float. She stroked her belly, but there was no movement this time.

   “Erna…” A soft voice called out from the shadow of the corner of the carriage, where Bjorn had slumped back. “…love you.” He half opened his eyes to look at her. “I love you, Erna.”

   Erna was a little dazed by the unexpected words and she smiled at the drunken fools slurred words. His voice was still so sweet that it made her feel drunk. Before she could make her reply, he was already snoring. It seems that the words that came so hard for him, were a little easier to say thanks to alcohol, so maybe alcohol wasn’t so bad, still he needed to cut back. Sᴇaʀch* Thᴇ ɴøvᴇlFɪre.ɴet website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of nøvels early and in the highest quality.

   Just as she was thinking that she could show him some leniency, his head rolled over and rested on her shoulder. With a smile, she closed her eyes and leaned her head on his. The best man in Buford, the satisfaction of it warmed her heart and she hummed a little lullaby, a song who’s melody reminded her of the music plated at he festival.

   After a rambunctious day, the carriage carrying the Dniesters rumbled along the quiet country road, as the twilight deepened into true night, the lights of Baden House twinkled in the distance.

*.·:·.✧.·:·.*

The dinning table on the last night of their stay at Baden House was truly magnificent. Mrs Greve had not held anything back on the last feast for the Grand Ducal couple. It was mostly in thanks for letter her feed them so heartily, allowing her to practice baking for when the child visited.

   Bjorn stared out at the scene of the grand feast fit to feed a kingdom. He held a glass of wine in one hand, how Erna had not noticed that Bjorn came home with one of the glasses from the festival, she did not know.

   With all the food on the table, Erna thought that they might be expecting company, but it really was just for them. The Baroness even came out in her full regalia. A cluster of broaches and corsages decorated her favourite party dress.

   During the meal, Erna and the Baroness talked none stop, while Bjorn happily watched them and dug into the food. The Baroness had always been so scared that Erna would end up like her mother, trapped in an awful marriage, to a terrible man, now she seemed at ease.

   After about an hour, Erna had to go and dissuade the nanny from bringing out more food. While she was gone, Bjorn raised his glass to the Baroness.

   “Thank you. I will always be grateful to you, for forgiving me, believing in me and giving me a second chance. You really helped me see what it is that I needed.” Bjorn said, putting down the wine glass and turning to face the old woman.

   “Oh, you’re most welcome and while we are showing gratitude, I have to say that I am grateful that you for opening up the whole world for my poor child. For so long I was worried that she was going to end up lonely out here, with a withered old woman.” Baroness Baden smiled kindly, casting aside the memories of last winter. Seeing she refrained from raising his prior slip-up, Bjorn also chose to let it remain unspoken.

   “How about you come and stay with us, until Erna gives birth, I think it would help Erna a lot.” Bjorn knew what her answer would be, but he wanted to ask anyway.

   “I want to keep myself distant from that part of Erna’s life, your Highness. I will be leaving soon and I don’t want to be another burden for her.”

   “Baroness…” Bjorn tried to protest, but the Baroness held up a bony hand.

   “I’m not going any where yet, I have a desire to see my Great Grandchild grow a little before I am content enough to pass on. But I don’t want to make myself to much of a presence in Erna’s new life, so that my passing will be less strenuous on her. If you understand my meaning.”

   Bjorn thought he did and nodded solemnly. “But still, you must come and visit when the baby is born. Erna will only be waiting for you otherwise.”

   “Of course I will,” the Baroness smiled. “I am waiting for the day with bated breath. Will it be a son or a daughter, how lovely will they be? I have imagined their little face so many times. Of course I will be there when it is born.” The Baroness’ broad smile reminded Bjorn of Erna so much. “What do you think it will be? You must have some hunch.” The Baroness took a sip of wine to moisten her lips.

   “I can’t even begin to guess, my hunch is unreliable at the moment. One day I think it will be a girl, on others I know it will be a boy. All I know is that I want them to be as beautiful as their mother. Then I will be able to tell them that they inherited their beauty from the distinguished line of the Baden’s.”

   “Your Highness…” The Baroness said, suddenly overcome with emotion and her blue eyes filled with tears.

Bjorn, calm and resolute, said, “I’ll make sure our child knows her brown hair is beautiful, that she is perfect just as she is, and needs nothing more. This way, she can embrace her brown hair.” His words, while sentimental, were a message he felt important to share with Baroness Baden. Perhaps they could ease the guilt weighing on her heart, the remorse over the unspoken words to Erna.

   “Grandma, why are you crying?” Erna said at the door.

   “Oh, its nothing, baby,” the Baroness said, hurriedly pulling a handkerchief from her pockets.

   “Bjorn, what did you do?”

   “Well…” Bjorn cleared his throat, but there was no hiding his smile.

   “We were just talking of your scars,” Bjorn said.

   “I beg your pardon?” Erna said and as she stared at the pair of them, they burst into sudden fits of laughter. Erna felt like she was going insane.

“Yes, Erna. We did.” Erna’s trusted grandmother smiled at her, speaking in riddles. “I’ve talked your scars with the Grand Duke,” she said, tears glistening yet sporting a brilliant smile.

Surprisingly, her face was one of sheer joy.

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