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Robin Heinz was surprised to see the Mad Dog of Lechen. As he turned to consider the Prince, he saw an equally confused look upon his face. Bjorn was staring at him, head tilted.
“Hello Heinz,” Bjorn said quietly, “I’m meeting with you again?”
At first, the soft tone of Bjorn’s voice and his warm smile seemed friendly, but as Robin tensed, the maid that was sat at the end of the couch moved away to safety.
I once offered gentle warnings, but now you just repulse me.
Bjorn chuckled as he dismissed the maid from the parlour. Heinz was reminded of the previous year, when he had been humiliated.
The footsteps of the maid faded away and Bjorn leisurely approached Heinz, as if not seeing him, or as if he was approaching a friend, but loomed over him to prevent him from standing.
“Hey Heinz, do you have any special attachment to this room? Do you get upset, or even angry, when you come here?”
“Get out of my way,” Heinz growled.
“That’s rude,” Bjorn said, “I asked you a question.”
“What does it matter to you?” Robin did his best to hold back his anger, but it was a battle he had no chance of winning.
Bjorn responded by simply maintaining a steady gaze, leaving Robin to wonder what was going on in his mind. Robin tried to return the stern gaze, but he was not as bold as Bjorn.
“It’s not like that, really, the girl, she tried to seduce me first.”
“Really?” Bjorn said calmly. The idiot said the same thing about Erna.
Bjorn could vividly recall last summer and the crude remarks Robin had drummed up about Erna, but Erna had always smiled so sweetly and stuck by Bjorn’s side. She put up with so much and was always worried for him, even if she was intimidated by such garbage.
Bjorn smiled as he recalled her waiting for him at the end of the bridge. She didn’t have any plan, she thought she would bump into him again if she just waited there. She told him that she felt like she would always be waiting at the end of the bridge for him.
Looking back, Erna was always waiting for him with a smile on her face and a twinkle in her eyes, like the lights that lined the Abit River.
So he thought she was fine. Bjorn smiled and closed his eyes, he always thought she was fine because she was always smiling so sweetly. When he opened his eyes again, Bjorn was back to being devoid of emotion, leaving no indication of the retrospection.
“Where are you doing?” Bjorn said calmly as Robin tried to scurry around him.
Robin didn’t hesitate and hastily ran away without looking back. Despite being drunk, he managed to get away far enough to hide himself behind a column.
Bjorn chased after him at his own pace, with long, confident strides, becoming more and more focused as he went.
Robin tried to flee again when Bjorn caught up with him, but Bjorn kicked a foot out from under him and Robin fell to the floor with a sickening crunch. Bjorn towered over him with an expression of ruthlessness.
“What the hell is wrong with you, you madman,” Robin bellowed.
“What’s wrong with me?” Bjorn laughed, “you’re what’s wrong with me.”
“W-what?”
“Every time I look at you, my anger rises, it bubbles up the surface and boils over and all I can think about is punching you right in your disgusting face, just like how you indulge in your disgusting habits every time you come here.”
Robin screamed as the point of Bjorn’s highly polished shoe connected with Robin’s face. He tried to raise his hands to defend himself, but the blow kept raining. If he protected his face, Bjorn would kick him in the ribs instead, if he protected his ribs, he left his head exposed.
Bjorn’s relentless assault left Robin with no time to catch his breath and the kicks were relentless. Blood poured from Robin’s broken nose and split lip. Bjorn’s once pristine shoes were not spattered with crimson.
“It’s your fault,”  Bjorn said, crouching down to be closer to the shivering Robin Heinz. “You should never have upset me, don’t you think so?”
Bjorn stared at Robin’s busted face, blood and saliva smeared across his cheek and chin. Robin could do nothing but nod in agreement.
“Control your lust, Heinz and I will be able to control my anger, okay?”
Bjorn stood back up. He knew his rage was unjustified, but he didn’t let that technicality bother him. It was just a shame that he couldn’t simply take the life of this pathetic specimen, this was not a barbaric age.
Bjorn thought about Erna, crying as she held a bloody candlestick. The bet had played a significant role in Erna’s suffering in the end, but it was this piece of shit that had dealt the first fatal blow to Erna’s reputation.
She had given him a flower, a lovely token of Erna’s appreciation and what had he done? He had discarded the promise into the nearest ashtray. Bjorn’s heart wept at the unbidden memory. It had been such a pretty flower, a Lily of the Valley, her favourite.
It was also Gladys’ favourite flower too and that had been why he had discarded it. Would he have done the same if it were a Daffodil or a Pansy?
Bjorn heard someone stumbling toward him and as he turned, he found Robin coming at him, the poker from the fireplace swinging for his head.
*.·:·.✧.·:·.*
“You’re crazy,” Leonid said.
There were no others words to describe Bjorn Dniester. As Bjorn glanced at him, he let out a laugh. The overpowering scent of alcohol filled the confined space of the carriage.
“Really, you crazy son of a bitch, your laughing now?”
Leonid wanted to leave the club and not look back, but there was a nagging feeling in the back of his mind that he should retrieve his brother. If he had arrived a moment later, his brother would probably be carted off to prison by now.
When Leonid found Bjorn, he was leaning over the unconscious body of Robin Heinz, poker in his hand, dripping with blood. Leonid wasted no time in intervening, hustling Bjorn out of the club and into the carriage.
Those at the club witnessed the strange scene and soon found Robin in the parlour. Shock ran through everyone and nearly sent Bjorn to the depths of hell, if Leonid hadn’t been there to bail Bjorn out.
“You can’t keep going on like this Bjorn. Go to Baden and get the Grand Duchess back, no matter what it takes, beg on your bloody knees if you have to.”
Leonid could no longer contain his anger and all his frustrations came out as he shouted at Bjorn, hoping something will get through his haze. Leonid had thought Bjorn was handling things well, that is, until he received news that the Grand Duchess had disappeared.
Running away might have been an irresponsible and selfish thing to do, but Leonid could understand why his sister-in-law had done so. It was actually pretty similar to his parents.
“The Grand Duchess, you mean Erna?”
Bjorn sighed as he tried to sit up straight. His head flopped to one side and his simply stared up at the sky. The motion sent pain rocketing through his body. Robin had managed to land a few decent blows.
“She’ll be back soon,” Bjorn murmured in a daze.
“Or maybe not,” Leonid said.
“Shut up, Leo.”
Bjorn looked away from the window and lazily brushed his fingers through his hair. The mansion, where Erna was no longer present, slowly came into view.
“Erna loves me.”
A husband I love no longer.
“She’ll come back.”
“Bjorn.”
“She’s supposed to come back.”
Bjorn continued to mutter to himself as the carriage trundled along and managed to lose consciousness right before reaching the mansion. After a brief moment of simply staring at the man who was equally as stupid as he was smart, Leonid shook his head and left the carriage.
“Your Highness,” Mrs Fitz said, surprised and curtsied.
“Good morning Mrs Fitz, Bjorn is rather drunk and currently unconscious.”
Fortunately, everyone was more than used to that.
“He got himself into a fight at Harbour Street.”
That statement was also something Mrs Fitz was used to hearing.
“It looks like his arm might be broken, so it might be worth calling a doctor to look at it.”
Unfortunately, the last word shocked everyone.