§ § § - October 17, 2005
They settled down in the oversized easy chair where Leslie had often curled up to read while Christian worked, before the triplets' birth; and slowly Christian opened the 1957 diary and thumbed through the pages till he reached November, the month Carl Johan had told him he remembered their mother announcing her fourth and last pregnancy. He didn't find any mention of this, however, till he reached the last day of that month, and then it took him a moment to start reading. When he did, his voice was slightly strained.
"30 November. I am still trying to deal with the news I learned today. Dr. Carlsson informed me this afternoon that I am pregnant. Yes, pregnant, at forty years old! I was so shocked at first that I seriously considered aborting the child—I know from all those tedious history lessons in the early years of my marriage that I wouldn't be the first. But then I came to my senses. How could I do that? All right, I don't truly want to go through with this pregnancy, but this is my child, just as Arnulf, Carl Johan and Anna-Laura are my children. I won't enjoy being pregnant, I know, and Dr. Carlsson suggested that at my age I am taking a great many risks. As if I set out deliberately to get myself in this condition… Ah, but it's done, and I have no good reason to terminate this pregnancy, not even my apparently advanced age. But there is one small bright spot. Carl Johan, smart boy that he is, suggested that perhaps the baby will be another girl, and Anna-Laura will have a little sister to play with. That softened Ulf considerably. I suppose deep inside I have to admit that the chances are probably not very good, since it took five generations for the family to produce a girl after the nineteenth-century Princess Dorotea. But one never knows…"
"2 December. I spoke with Dr. Carlsson again today and he estimates that I am about ten weeks along. That means I should give birth in late June, and by then I'll be forty-one. Imagine having a newborn at such an age! Of course, Sire and Madame are very happy at the idea of another grandchild. For that matter, Madame has decided that she and Anna-Laura will make a project out of collecting all the news clippings they can that follow my pregnancy. We formally announced it yesterday, and I don't think I've ever seen so many amazed faces. One even reminded us of our announcement after Anna-Laura's arrival that there would be no further children. I've never seen Ulf look so angry. Fortunately Madame stepped in before he could say anything and explained that sometimes, surprises happen. Fate in her mercy, what an understatement that is."
"Sire and Madame?" Leslie repeated when Christian had finished reading this entry. "I guess she must have meant the king and queen."
"Right," Christian said. "The spouses of the monarch's children have always referred to them that way. In this case it was my grandfather Lukas and my grandmother Julia." He turned a page and began to read again.
"14 December. I would have written sooner, except that I was under Dr. Carlsson's care for the last eleven days because I've been so ill. I haven't been able to keep anything down, and after two days of this Dr. Carlsson grew very alarmed and arranged for me to go to the hospital. I had tubes snaking into my arm for more than a week. Never in my life have I been so hungry and thirsty, yet simultaneously revolted at the very idea of trying to put something in my stomach. It's a horrible feeling."
"15 December. I wanted to write more last evening, but I felt too weak. I am able to drink a special nutrient-filled beverage that Dr. Carlsson has arranged to have delivered to me here at the castle. He fears for both me and the baby I carry, but Ulf… I shouldn't write this, but I promised myself when I first began keeping a diary that I will be honest about what happens in my life. Ulf is devoutly praying to the fates that I'll miscarry. No one else in the castle knows this, not the children, not Sire or Madame, certainly not the servants. Even though this pregnancy is unwelcome and is making me miserable, both physically and emotionally, I made it clear that I won't voluntarily terminate it. My philosophy teacher in högskolan would probably tell me that my choice to endure the horrors this pregnancy is visiting on me means that I am punishing myself for not wanting it. Maybe it's true…"
"25 December. I am already receiving gifts from the people for this baby, some six months before she is due. (I have decided to refer to the child as 'she'. I know it may well be a 'he', but I choose to have hope. Please fate, let it be a girl.) They've all been coming wrapped in Christmas paper, and I've tried to put a happy face on the situation for the people's sake, but I live in fear that they'll know my true feelings about this forthcoming child. Ulf made little enough effort to hide his. Sire and Madame are not at all pleased with Ulf's attitude, and I find myself reverting to the terror the commoner feels at the wrath of his monarch, should they discover what mine is. I must make a ritual of telling myself daily, 'Susanna, you may have another girl.' It's best to hope for that. How else will I get through this ordeal?"
"31 December. I feel simply horrible; I am again in the hospital, unable to keep food in my stomach long enough to do me or the baby any good. I insisted that my diary go into the suitcase young Minna packed for me before I was brought here, because I always make an entry for the last day of the year. Oh, baby girl, I do hope you'll be worth all this travail. May 1958 bring better things."
Christian closed the book and then his eyes, his head drooping slightly. Leslie gently took the book from him and laid it aside, gathered the second one and hesitated, watching him worriedly. At last she ventured, "Christian, my love, are you all right?"
His eyes snapped open at that and he glared at her in disbelief. "Do you realize what a ridiculous question that is?" he demanded.
She swallowed and let her head hang, her hair thankfully falling forward to hide her mortification. Me and my big mouth, she thought, disgusted with herself. "I shouldn't have said anything." Of course he wasn't all right, she berated herself; who would be, after reading such graphic evidence that his parents hadn't really wanted him?
Then she felt him wrap an arm around her and gather her in close. "Leslie, my Rose, I'm sorry," he said, kissing the top of her head. "I don't mean to snap at you."
"Well, you were right," she murmured, relaxing slightly. "It was a ridiculous question. I should have thought before I spoke…I really just meant to ask if you felt up to going on with the next diary."
She felt Christian sigh long and heavily, and finally looked up at him, seeing his gaze trained on some memory. "I can remember when you and I spoke with Arnulf just before he died, and how he said Mother's pregnancy with me was quite hard on her. I didn't fully understand just how hard until I began reading those entries. And she still has nearly six months to go as I begin the 1958 diary."
Too curious to resist, Leslie found herself asking, "How do you feel about the idea that your mother was hoping you'd be a girl?"
Unexpectedly Christian grinned. "I expect there are worse things than being born female. Anyhow, I think she put herself in that mindset for a good reason. From what I read in these diary entries, she felt it would be easier on me if I were a girl, because Father would have been more likely to welcome a second daughter than a third son. I certainly had some nerve to come out male, hm?"
"Personally, I'm glad you did," she teased, and he laughed. "Well, let me know if and when you're ready, and I'll give you the next book."
"I'll take it now," he said, sobering. "It's strange really, but I find that now that I've begun, I have to go through all the way to the bitter end. Here, let's start."
"1 January. I lay here in my hospital bed last night, unable to sleep for vomiting episodes, and in between my body's attempts to empty an already empty stomach I found myself watching New Year's fireworks exploding over the Sundborg skyline. Thank the fates I didn't have this kind of trouble with the other children, and that this one is going to be born in the hospital. Arnulf, per more than eight centuries of tradition, had to be born in the castle, since he is his father's heir and the heir to the throne is always born in the castle. The way I'm going with this child, I'll spend the first half of 1958 in this very hospital room."
"26 January. Madame was just here visiting me. I have spent exactly five days of this entire month so far sleeping in my own bed with my husband. All the rest of that time, I've been in the hospital under round-the-clock monitoring, this time for dehydration and something the doctors call 'gestational anemia.' I didn't want to hear the particulars, but Madame insisted on telling me it's a blood disorder before I pleaded with her not to say any more. My spirits are low enough. Rumors are flying—Madame is very angry with the local press. The most prominent one is that I am dying and the baby will die with me. I've wondered what Ulf must think of that last, but I'm not sure I want to know the true answer to that…"
"15 February. This year's book may be my shortest ever. I've been in the hospital so much that I'm beginning to feel as if my home is there and I'm merely visiting the castle. I joke about forgetting what my children look like. It's another round with that anemia and the dehydration. I had one round of mild anemia during my pregnancy with Anna-Laura and I was sick quite a bit, but not nearly as much as with this child. And the boys were easier, Arnulf more so than Carl Johan. But this one is giving me so much trouble that I've started having the terrible feeling that I'm being punished because I don't know if I really want this child."
Christian sighed deeply once more when he finished this entry and looked back through the book. "The whole thing has focused on the trouble she had with me," he said, almost tonelessly. "I'm tempted to skip ahead to the day I was born."
"She must have been able to write about things other than her gestational problems," Leslie said, with more hope than conviction. "My love, are you really sure you want to finish this? You've already had so many bouts of doubting whether your mother truly loved you, and reading this can't possibly help any."
Christian thought back for a moment, then looked at her. "I've been trying to keep in mind the words Mother said to me just before she died. She had a private talk with each of us in her last days—my nieces and nephews first, and then the four of us, in order of age. I remember that she seemed anxious that I know she loved me, because I had expressed my doubts in so many words at least a few times through the years. After my father made it clear to me that I was an unplanned child, I wondered whether she felt the same way, ever after. It was his revelation that made me hide from the family for several days, when I was eleven. When Arnulf and Kristina finally found me and I rejoined the family, I asked Mother straight out if she loved me." He shook his head, eyes unfocused. "I'll never forget how white her face was, when I looked at her finally. She insisted that she did, again and again, and after that she made a point of reiterating it from time to time."
Leslie thought about it. "I'm not going to say I knew your mother very well—I do wish I could've met her—but considering all the things you've told me about yourself since we met, and Arnulf's revelations that day, and now the things in these diaries…well, to me it kind of sounds as if she felt guilty about her ambivalence over you in the beginning, and she was trying with everything she had to make up to you for it."
Christian gazed at her with a faintly startled look. "Do you think so? I have to admit, I never considered that. Perhaps I've always been too close to the situation."
"I think so too. Look how she's mentioned a couple times in the diary that she thinks her medical troubles are punishment for not wanting you. Even then she must've been feeling guilty about it. Something tells me that as Anna-Laura sends us future years, we'll see the occasional entry in regard to that. Heck," Leslie added with a sudden grin, "I bet there'll be something later on in this very diary." She tapped the book in his hands. "Keep reading, go ahead and skip to your birthdate if you want to, and I think we'll see I'm right."
Christian quirked an eyebrow at her but acquiesced. He paged through a few more entries detailing Susanna's pregnancy travails, merely summarizing them, then paused and cleared his throat. "Listen to this."
"14 March. I've lost my only real confidante in this castle. Yesterday our beloved Madame died. It's hard to believe she was so alive, so vibrant, just a few days ago, celebrating Carl Johan's birthday with the rest of us, and now she's gone. I will miss Madame for the rest of my days. In the absence of my own mother, Madame filled that role. She helped me struggle through this incredibly difficult pregnancy and gave me hope, and agreed with me that it would be best if this baby is a girl. She even discussed names with me a few times. And if I am carrying a girl, her name is going to be Julia, in her grandmother's honor. She was out riding, a favorite pastime of hers, when something apparently spooked the horse, which reared and threw her off. She suffered a broken neck, which they say killed her instantly, so that she was in no pain. It's the rest of us who are in pain now. Ulf is very despondent; I feel devoid of hope. The children have been crying constantly, and Sire is most affected of all. He locked himself in the royal suite and has not been seen since then. Madame was the love of his life, and I can barely begin to imagine the depth of his bereavement. The country is in mourning and I dread the funeral…not only for the grief I feel, but for the fear of vomiting yet again, on national television, because of this child."
"Your poor mother," Leslie said softly. "And you got robbed."
"I knew little of Grandmother," Christian said, his voice almost inaudible. "I guess the family found it too painful to speak of her. Carl Johan told me once that she would have joined Grandfather in spoiling me, had she been alive to see me born." He turned a few more pages, paused and read some lines, then frowned. "I never knew this. Listen."
"28 April. My little girl is five years old today. I feel about twenty times that old, for I've been lying in bed under doctor's orders ever since April 3. Not necessarily my own bed, mind you. I got out of the hospital on the 26th after my fourth bout with anemia and dehydration. Dr. Carlsson went out on a limb and scolded Ulf and Sire for not seeing to my health more faithfully. I thought Ulf was going to dismiss him, but Sire stayed his hand and told Dr. Carlsson that he would do his best from now on. He agreed, there's nothing they can do about most of my problems, but acknowledged Dr. Carlsson's angry pronouncement that neglecting to keep me supplied with fluids is simply inexcusable. From now on I will have my meals in this room, and I won't be allowed to get up, except to visit the bathroom when I need to. Fate in her irony has turned me into a veritable battleground, but all the doctors have told me repeatedly that the baby is robust and healthy. May she have some mercy on her mother when she's born. In the meantime, Anna-Laura's birthday party was moved from the great entry to our suite, so that I would be able to participate in the celebration. Sire barred the press from coming in and made them wait to take photos till the party had ended and the rest of the family could gather in the great entry. I'm glad of that, for I don't feel worthy of being seen by the people just now."
Christian silently skipped the entries for May and the first half of June, without even bothering to summarize them for Leslie; she suspected they were pretty much the same as the previous ones in any case. She watched him slowly turn pages, then stop on a particular date and draw in a deep breath. His body was rigid with tension, and she dearly wished she could take over for him, translating his mother's jordiska into English on the fly the way he did with such ease. Instead she could only wait for him to gather his composure.
"25 June. I now have four children. And…fate help me…my youngest child is a boy.
"I haven't yet seen Ulf, although Sire brought Arnulf, Carl Johan and Anna-Laura up to visit. I was in so much pain during the birth that that's all I can remember now; I recall hearing voices but not the words they said. So it wasn't till Sire and the children walked into the room that I discovered I had borne a third son. I felt numb at first, and then wondered why I had demanded that the nurse bring them in despite her objections to my having visitors. I could have had the illusion just a little longer.
"In any case, Sire saw my reaction to his remark that the doctors were bringing the newborn to see us so that we could name him. I caught the 'him' and knew immediately that our newest family member may well find himself rejected by his own father. But before I could say anything more, Anna-Laura announced that we needed to choose a name for the child straightaway, because Ulf had reacted very badly upon hearing he had another son and said to simply name him Carl. What kind of foolishness is that? We have Carl Johan, as she pointed out, and it would just be ridiculous. At that point the baby arrived, and I got my first look at my new son. He's red, as all newborns are, but his face is sweet, and I found myself feeling twinges of affection for him. To shorten a long story, after much discussion, we settled on the name Christian Carl Tobias. I thought it wise to retain the name Carl, but I didn't want to use it as his everyday name. Anna-Laura came up with Tobias, and for the first time in many years, I remembered my poor unfortunate baby brother. It was the perfect chance to honor him, so I decided to call my little son Christian.
"Christian is sleeping in a little bassinet by my bed as I write this, and I can see him if I only turn my head a little to my left. He is wearing only a diaper and lying on the blanket they wrapped him in when they first brought him in to meet us. When Sire and the children left to return to the castle, I took advantage of the time I had alone with my baby and carefully counted his fingers and toes—twice, just as I did with my other children. And then I simply had to know. Well, it's not that I thought everyone was lying to me, but I needed to confirm it with my own eyes. I laid him on his back beside me, unwrapped his blanket and unpinned his diaper. And there it was, the unmistakable proof that my child is a boy. So I do indeed have a third son, and though it makes me feel like a witch to say this, I'm afraid I'm quite disappointed.
"I even told him, 'You were supposed to be Julia Katarina Anna, don't you know that?' But Christian simply slept on, totally oblivious. Poor baby, he has no idea what lies in wait for him when he and I go home to the castle. Oh, Carl Johan and Anna-Laura are excited, and Sire is delighted by his newest grandson. But Ulf…I can't even bear to write about what Ulf will probably do, and of course Arnulf, being his father's son, will imitate anything he does or says. And I myself just don't feel up to the continuous care Christian's going to need. His birth wrung me out so completely that the doctors have scheduled a hysterectomy for me on July 17. That will put an end once and for all to further family enlargements…or more sons for Ulf to disapprove of. I'm too old to go through another pregnancy, so I welcome the surgery."
Christian's voice was tight and his face grim as he finished reading this, and Leslie looked worriedly up at him. "Maybe you shouldn't…" she began.
"Maybe not," Christian retorted, "but I will. You seem optimistic about some future entry. Suppose we try to find this alleged good news."
Leslie offered calmly, "Why don't you skip ahead to around the end of September or early October? You should find it there."
"Suppose you look it up, then. It'll be good practice for your jordiska. I have to take a break." Christian launched himself out of the chair and left the room, and Leslie shook her head, smiling faintly, before thumbing through pages till she got to late September. Then she hesitated, frowned, and got up to look up something in the jordiska-English dictionary Christian had bought her on one of their last few visits to Lilla Jordsö.
She skimmed about a week's worth of entries before she found the word she wanted, embedded in a sentence whose meaning she couldn't possibly mistake: Christian har lungaholga! the handwriting cried. She nodded once to herself and closed the book for a moment, with a finger stuck between the pages to hold her place.
A few minutes later Christian came back with a closed-off expression and a chill in his hazel eyes. "I suppose you think you found something," he said coolly.
Leslie recognized the imperial cloak he drew around himself when he was angry or upset, and got to her feet, giving him her most regal look in return. "When you're prepared to be reasonable about it," she said in a tone even colder than his, "come look for me. Till then, you can sulk by yourself." She started to walk past him to leave the room.
Christian muttered a curse, expelled a breath and caught her. "Damn it, Leslie, don't you understand my mood right now?"
"I do understand," she said, eyeing him with mild annoyance. "What you don't seem to realize is that I'm trying to help you. You've obviously forgotten something very important about your infancy, and if you'd drop that eternally offended manner of yours and open your mind just a little bit, you might be reminded."
For a moment Christian just stared at her; then he smiled, just slightly, and relented. "All right, then," he said. "My apologies in advance, because you're so sure of yourself that now I expect to find myself hideously wrong."
Leslie laughed. "Come on, you, let's get back here and you start reading this thing to me. I had to look up the word I wanted, but it was worth it. Come on."
Settled comfortably back in their chair, this time with Leslie's legs draped across his lap, Christian opened the diary to the page she was holding and cleared his throat. "All right then, let's see exactly what has you going like this."
"29 September. Christian has pneumonia! Dr. Carlsson has just confirmed it, and Christian is now in the hospital being treated. Anna-Laura and I went up to see him this morning, and for the first time I found him alone in his room and the nanny nowhere in sight. When Anna-Laura finally rousted her out of her little room, she looked simply horrendous. Dr. Carlsson has since confirmed that she too has pneumonia and is most likely the source of it in Christian, and the girl in fact blamed herself for it in front of me. Wherever he got it, I'm deathly afraid for him. Fate is certainly punishing me now, for foisting his care off on a stranger. How could I have been so stupid, so cruel? If Christian dies, I'll never forgive myself, much less Ulf, for he's the one who talked me into giving Christian that airless mid-bank room and getting a nanny to take care of him, when I myself should have been doing it. I took care of Arnulf, Carl Johan and Anna-Laura when they were babies. Why on earth haven't I given Christian the same preference? How could I let Ulf and his animosity toward the baby influence my decisions about him? There's nothing we can do about the room he's in, for none of the second-floor suites has been added to the north-wing heating system yet and I don't want Christian freezing come winter. But by fate, the nanny goes, or I move out of Ulf's and my suite!
"But at dinner this evening, Ulf said something that proved to simply be the last straw. When he heard that Christian's pneumonia is an advanced case, he said, almost casually I thought, that he thought it better if Christian were allowed to die, since we had enough children for the succession. I think he would have said more, but the idea that he would want his own child dead broke the last of my shameful disappointment over having borne Christian. Never in all my life have I been so infuriated with anyone. I told Ulf off in front of everyone, including Sire, and assured him that once Christian returns home, I'll take over all his care and the nanny will be sent packing to Älvsvik where she came from. No more will I let anything Ulf says be the final word where Christian is concerned, not after that heinous display of contempt. If this is going to be Ulf's attitude toward Christian, then that child is going to need a protector, and by fate, I'll do it! I hope one day fate, and Christian himself, will forgive me for my shortsightedness and insensitivity up till now. How could I be such a fool? No longer. From this day on, I'm going to see to it that Christian knows his mother loves him very much, and if he ever has cause to doubt me, I'll work twice as hard to reassure him. May fate hear me and help me, and I thank her for making me realize how precious my little Christian truly is."
Leslie looked up at the thickening in his voice and saw tears standing in his eyes. He met her gaze and blinked, dislodging one tear, and she reached up and brushed it away. "What do you think now?" she asked softly.
"Now that I read it, I remember Arnulf's mention of the epiphany Mother had," Christian murmured. "If I ever wonder again…all I have to do is look at this book, and I'll be set straight."
"Exactly, my love," said Leslie, smiling, and snuggled against him. "Now keep on reading, I want to hear about all the funny things you did as a baby." Christian broke into laughter and gladly complied.
As mentioned at the beginning of this story, the "fantasy" part of this was based on the episode "King for a Day/Instant Family", with David Doyle as Ernie Miller/King Albert and Diane Baker as Queen Aurora. In mentioning Prince (later King) Peter of Anatolia, I referred to another first-season episode called "The Prince/The Sheriff" which originally aired on February 11, 1978, and starred Dack Rambo and Lisa Hartman. (I also made reference to it in one chapter of "My Friend the Mermaid", and shamefully forgot to give the proper credit, so I'm rectifying that error here.)
Next up: Leslie has to be reminded that she wasn't always a well-behaved child, and finds herself telling tales on herself to Christian.
