The Duchess was always open to welcoming guests into her home, but she couldn’t help but shake her head disapprovingly at a guest who said they could not come, but came anyway. She couldn’t forgive her Grandson for deceiving her though.

Bjorn kept his focus on Erna throughout the entire dinner.

Erna smiled, ate her food quietly and appeared at ease. Bjorn still felt frustrated that Erna remained slightly out of reach. Even in the moments of pathetic self-deprecation. In order to make this dinner, he had to rearrange his entire schedule.

He hated doing morning work, but he pushed himself to move things about and attend the banks board meeting in the morning. Then he made luncheon an hour early. Those who knew him well were surprised by his sudden change in behaviour, but Bjorn remained focused and determined to make it work.

He continued to prioritise his commitment to Erna, even if it meant pushing himself beyond his limits. He was determined to maintain this unwavering dedication.

“It’s already late,” Bjorn said, looking at the clock on the mantle.

“Its no time to be overdoing it, what more could you possibly have planned for this evening?” The Duchess said, putting her napkin onto her plate.

“I wish to stay, but I can’t selfishly satisfy my own desires,” Bjorn replied.

The Duchess could see that Bjorn was growing restless each time he looked at Erna. She was intending to invite Erna to stay the night, but it seemed that Bjorn had other plans. His wolfish intensity made it clear that he did not want to leave Erna’s side anytime soon.

Like father, like son, like Grandson the Duchess thought.

If she thought back to Philip when he was newly-wed, who was brilliant at everything, but acted like a simpleton when around his wife and brought upon himself the ire of his wife in her frustrations, she could see that playing out here, again, now. The Wolves of Dniester did not seem to have the wit to turn their brilliant minds to romance.

The Duchess locked eyes with Bjorn and after a moment of staring, Bjorn gracefully smiled and nodded.

His confident gesture was shameless, but also impressive. The Duchess could only sigh as she marked the traits of the Dniester pride and Arsene stubbornness. If Bjorn could be tamed, he would make a great husband, but the task would be challenging.

The dinner was finally brought to an end long before it was scheduled to do so. The Duchess saw her guests out to their carriage. 

“You’re making such a fuss,” the Duchess said, taking the opportunity to reprimand her Grandson while Erna was climbing into the carriage. “If you’re going to do this, then maybe try actually dating for once. That is one useful skill you will find is quite effective.”

“Grandma, are you drunk?” Bjorn remained insistent in acting foolish in the face of serious advice.

“Even if I was drunk, I will still be better at dating than you, Bjorn Dniester.”

“Erna’s my wife, Grandma.”

“Who’s saying she’s not?”

Bjorn looked at her for a long moment, before responding with a gentle smile and entered the carriage. The Duchess was put off by the display of stubbornness, which reminded her of Isabelle in years past and much like when she was first married, Bjorn and Erna’s prospects did not look very promising.

“I don’t know why the Wolves of Dniester and their partners always seem like polar opposites.”

*.·:·.✧.·:·.*

Erna was looking up at the gaslights of the city passing by, but had inadvertently fell asleep and was leaning against Bjorn’s shoulder. Bjorn looked down at her with calm eyes like a deep night.

“Oh no,” Erna suddenly said, sitting up straight.

She adjusted her clothes and tidied her messy hair, cheeks flushed.

“Are you okay?” Bjorn asked.

“Sorry,” Erna said, after catching her breath.

She realigned the crooked dress collar and bodice as the carriage turned down the riverbank road. Erna began to relax and Bjorn’s gaze softened as he watched his wife fluster with her outfit.

“Did you not enjoy your little nap?” Bjorn said.

Erna’s shoulders sagged at the question. She would rather have repeated that vexing greeting. The sound of galloping hooves filled the anxious quiet of the carriage. Erna peered out the window as Bjorn watched her.

Everything felt like it was progressing smoothly. Even when he offered his shoulder to the drowsy Erna, Bjorn felt confident that they would be returning to his cherished routine. The carriage came to a halt outside the dimly lit mansion and Erna looked up at it with a smile on her face. Ultimately, they found themselves back where they started.

“Erna.” Bjorn whispered her name.

He gripped the head of the cane, trying to fend off the anxiety that tingled through his body, there was no time left to dwell on uncertainty.

Erna turned to look at Bjorn cautiously. She looked drained and her languid eyes still took his breath away. The beautiful woman was much like a beguiling enchantment.

“That thing, Erna,” Bjorn decided to finally speak up.

“Thing?” Erna tilted her head.

“With Gladys and the divorce.”

“Oh…”

“It was a matter of state. In exchange for substantial national interest, I had no choice but to maintain that secret indefinitely. It was a commitment I had to bare and ultimately, a responsibility to keep the peace between Lars and Lechen.”

Bjorn had wanted to tell Erna everything on that evil day and since then, there did not seem an appropriate opportunity for such a discussion and once the turmoil subsided, the right circumstance became unclear. At first he told himself that there was no need to go opening old wounds , but in retrospect, it was just cowardly evasion.

“If you had shared it with me, do you think I wouldn’t have been able to keep it a secret?” Erna asked, her voice uncertain.

“It wasn’t a matter of trust, Erna.”

“Why not?”

“The confidential agreement with Lars was established on the condition that only my mother, father and Leonid knew, and only Leonid because he was to become the Crown Prince. I was obligated to keep that promise. If it had been anyone else, it wouldn’t have made a difference.”

“I…understand,” Erna nodded.

Bjorn was correct, confidentiality was a matter of importance and before being a woman’s husband, this man as the Prince of a nation, had a duty to prioritise the nations interest. She couldn’t bring herself to blame him.

“But, Bjorn, you saw how difficult things were for me,” Erna’s voice quivered as tears sprang to her eyes. “My baby, if the poets work hadn’t been published, our child would have grown up, forever cursed to be in the shadow of Princess Gladys.”

“I guess so,” Bjorn said calmly. “I would have provided as much compensation to you and our child in other ways.”

Compensation?

As she whispered the word softly, the carriage approached a well built bridge. Erna placed her hands neatly in her lap, fighting back the tears that so desperately wanted to break free. Her breathing gradually steadied.

Bjorn was a dedicated husband.

Although things turned out different to what she envisioned, it was undeniably true. He had assigned her as his wife and within those bounds, he treated her with respect and loyalty. He would have been an equally devoted father, there was no question about that.

“Anyway, things have been settled now,” Bjorn said. He reached forward and cradled Erna’s cheek.

The myth of Gladys had been shattered and now no one looked at her as the Princess of Lechen. People were now hailing Erna as their heroine, a wife that had stood by her husband with unwavering and pure love. She was a true noble woman and no less than a queen.

She was free from her fathers torment, who had fell from grace a long time ago and finally exiled. He reaped the consequences of his actions and misdeeds. Bjorn made sure of that. The heroine saved by a handsome Prince and they were living happily, the perfect ending.

Yet, she couldn’t put voice to her thoughts.

Each time she saw the other royal children, she was afraid her child would have been bullied and excluded, just as she was. She had no chance of becoming a great Princess like Gladys and admitting to her self loathing would not have helped.

As an incompetent mother, all she could hope was that their child would be more like its father. She hoped that no one would find any trace of her, so that she wouldn’t pass on the sorrow of wanting to dye their hair in the sun.

No one knew how she prayed every night, hoping her child wouldn’t become a misfit and their life would be as radiant as their fathers, but now such prayers need never be answered.

It was time to turn to the next chapter, to forget the unhappiness and pain brought on over the last year. Now they could move toward the desire for happiness that lay ahead.

“If you still need more, Erna,” Bjorn said, interrupting Erna’s deep thoughts.

“No,” Erna said sharply. “I’ve read the book and I already know everything. It must have been hard for you, but you don’t have to go through that again.” Erna forced back the tears and even brought her self to show a weak smile. “As you said, everything has been resolved now and I’m fine, really.”

As the carriage passed over the bridge of lights, Bjorn reached over and kissed Erna. Reluctant at first, Erna relented and finally parted her lips to accept the show of affection. It wasn’t that difficult after all.