Anonymous request: Can you do angst with BMP 2 Ivan where MC leaves him for being unaffectionate/insensitive?
“Ivan, it’s late. You should really come and get some sleep.”
“I said not now.” His voice was sharp, leaving no room for argument. His eyes only leaving the papers in front of him for a second when he didn’t hear the door close. “Go to bed, you have no need to still be awake.”
His harsh stare didn’t leave your form, watching as your face fell, hands clenching into your nightshirt over your chest. For a moment it looked as if you were going to speak again, but your lips fell closed softly, eyes dropping to the floor as a look of defeat came over your face.
“Alright…” Your voice trailed off, hesitating momentarily before turning around and leaving the room, shuttling the door with a gentle click behind you.
With you gone, he shut his eyes. Both the pen in his hand and his head dropped, his interlaced hands becoming the resting place of his forehead. Yes he was tired but he had no time to consider that. Cracking open an eye he glanced to the pile of documents to the side that seemed to be ever growing. Although he had yet to be crowned King of Sanct Sybil, about six months prior his father had begun to struggle with ill health and was slowly starting to deteriorate in terms of his capabilities, meaning more and more of his responsibilities were beginning to fall into his hands.
For months there had been rumours circulating about his father, from the absurdity of him having abdicated or passing away in secret to the more correct guesses of him no longer being able to handle public appearances, and with no-one stepping in to say what was actually happening the unrest was beginning to be felt across the kingdom, and civil unrest was never a good thing when dealing with trade in other countries. However, his father had yet to express the want to back down from his position nor did he want the public to know of his state, very much believing in remaining a strong figurehead until the end, meaning he had to take on all of his responsibilities in secret. Of course, with him having so much more to deal with now, he was appearing in public himself much less with most of his day being spent in his office dealing with various stacks of paperwork and that in itself was causing even more rumours. With neither royal having been seen for a while he had heard the whispers of resistance groups wanting to overthrow them and take the nation in the name of one of the previously merged countries. Such extremist groups had always existed, but naturally around times of leadership changes or distress their causes became more supported, their venom reached further than normal.
You had offered to help, to take his place during royal summons to try and reduce some of the stress on him no doubt, but he and advisors had quickly rejected the notion. Technically you weren’t yet a part of the royal family, being neither his fiancée or wife, meaning politically you didn’t hold the position to be representing them alone, only being allowed to do so when with Ivan, but he also didn’t want you going out alone as a royal whilst the kingdom was as unstable as it currently was. Doing that would make you a prime target of extremists as a way to try and display their own power and conviction and also make the royals seem weak. He couldn’t let that happen. Shaking his head and heaving a sigh, he returned to work once more.
It wasn’t until his vision blurred to the point of being physically unable to read that he stopped, rubbing his eyes no longer clearing them. Knowing he had reached his daily limit he rose to his feet, placing away the documents securely for him to start on again when he had rested. The halls were silent apart from the echo of his own footsteps as he made his way back to his room.
He didn’t turn on the light, the curtains were cracked illuminating your sleeping form, walking to you, he rested a hand on your cheek when he noticed the furrow in your brow, clearly troubled even in your sleep. Even with his presence your expression didn’t soften. Stripping off his normal clothes he took his place in bed beside you, facing out the window he continued to gaze at the full moon. His back was cold, you were as far away from him as the bed would allow, curled up at the very edge. When this had first started, no matter the time he would return to the room you would greet him with a tired smile, he would admonish you for it each time, and when you thought he had finally fallen asleep you would hug him from behind, your warmth helping to lull him into slumber. How long had it been since that stopped?
Back in his office the next day he wasn’t given time to dwell on the thoughts from the previous night as he was straight back into work. Hours merged as paper after paper was taken, read, analysed, commented on, accepted, declines or sent back for more information. It was a knock on the door that once again drew his attention away. Sighing, he gave a call for them to enter and Mikhail did so followed by you.
“What are you doing here?” His tone came out far more clipped than he meant it to be, and he noticed you shrink back slightly from him, before he looked to your hands. In them lay a tray, a plate on top with steam rolling off the meal.
“I made you lunch.” He turned away, time spent with you was easy, it was far too easy to lose track and end up having lost hours of the day when he promised himself he would only take half an hour out. The insinuation of the meal was clear, you wanted to eat with him. He wanted to indulge you and himself, but there just wasn’t the time in his day.
“Thank you, leave it there and I’ll get to it shortly.”
“Mikhail, in future please deliver meals yourself, she doesn’t need to waste time on such errands when she still has training to complete.” The butler’s expression fell somewhere between shock and a frown.
“Ivan I can take a short while out of my day to give you lunch, and you should take time out as well!”
“You don’t know, as a matter of fact I don’t have time to take out.” He didn’t bother to add on that it was that way no matter his own desires. “Please leave now, I don’t have time to argue about this.” He raised his hand and motioned to Mikhail, the silver haired man sighed, stepping forward and resting a hand on your back.
“Please allow me to escort you out my lady.” The sympathy in his voice was clear as he began to gently guide you from the room.
“Wait a moment.” Your head snapped around the moment his voice reached your ears, expectation shining brightly in your eyes. “Friday next week the National Museum of Sanct Sybil is re-opening after major renovations, I will be going to the opening ceremony and you will join me.”
“Yes, I said next Friday.”
“I’m sorry?” He glared. “You can’t?”
“I have something I have to do that day.” His patience wearing thin and ignoring the warning stare from Mikhail he stood from his desk, striding over to you.
“Something to do? You will one day be queen of Sanct Sybil, you will be a symbol of power and unity to this country. I’m sorry, but your personal errands can and will be carried out another time! This museum has been a national treasure for decades and you will be there to celebrate its reopening, not being there would be an insult to those who work there and the history of Sanct Sybil itself! Your attendance is non negotiable! Do I make myself clear?” His frustration leaked into his voice clearly, spoken so loudly is nearly echoed in the room. Any argument you had died in your throat, the unshed tears shone in your eyes and you didn’t respond, turning on your heels and fleeing from the office. Mikhail seemed conflicted, eyes flitting between the door you just exited through and back to him. He sighed, seating himself back in his chair.
“Don’t lecture me Mikhail. No matter what she had planned, this is a huge reflection on her character. The people of Sanct Sybil support her, but if they think she’s starting to shirk her duties she could lose that favour. If she loses public support she could be in even more danger, we might be forbidden from being together.”
“Ivan.” The use of his first name drew his eyes up to the silver haired man. “I hold a lot of respect for you, and I tell you this not just as your butler, but as a friend. I know you do and say what you do to her to protect her, but she doesn’t. You should listen to what she has to say.”
“Are you deliberately ignoring my orders? I told you not to lecture me yet you do so anyway. Our relationship is none of your concern, and you will not interfere.” There was a tense moment of silence before Mikhail sighed.
“Very well, I’ll leave you be and go and check on her.”
Silence filled the room as he left, soon to be overtaken by the scratch of pen on paper, he needed to get as much done before he had to go to this opening ceremony. Perhaps the two of you could talk then.
The next week passed uneventfully for the most part, only the inclusion of talks around the security of the trip for the two of you and a rather tense conversation around the rise of extremist activities. Of course he was worried, but it was a dangerous balancing act between safety and public image, there were suggestion of brining the military out to the public to act as a deterrent, but doing so too early could also reflect badly on them. The last thing they needed at this point was the public saying that they were only doing this to show their power or that it was an overreaction. Not only that, what if this was part of a bigger plan in which the military was a target? He didn’t want to put lives in danger unnecessarily, be they solider or civilian.
Having finalised the security detail of today, he stared in the mirror, straightening out his collar. You had gone to change in another room leaving him alone with his even stoic butler who ran a lint roller over the back of his suit.
“Are you sure you would like no-one else with you today?”
“No, any more people would make security more difficult and unpredictable, it will just be the two of us, please just prepare for our return and make sure those documents get to where they need to be.” Meeting his eye in the mirror he gave a prompt nod before stepping to the side, allowing him to pass by and leave the room to meet you in the limo.
Making his way down, he didn’t have to wait long for you to appear. In a modest dress you emerged at the end of the hallway with a maid, the woman beside you pulling you into a gentle hug upon noticing your forlorn expression. You seemed to take comfort in the gesture, leaning into the hug and wrapping your arms around the older woman’s back as if trying to use her to hold yourself together. He couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow at the odd behaviour. You soon pulled yourself from the hug, taking a breath before walking out to join him. He went to open the door for you, but you got there before him, pulling the handle and sliding in. He sighed, climbing into the car and noticing you were sat at the other window refusing to meet his eye. He shook his head, simply assuming you were still upset about the fact he had made you attend over your errand so the two of you simply sat in a tense silence. He waited for you to break it, but after ten minutes of you ignoring his presence he decided this silence had gone on for too long.
“Don’t you think enough is enough?” You glanced out the corner of your eye to him, but shut your eyes and turned your face away slightly. “I know you’re upset about your plans, but you mustn’t let it show. You mustn’t let it look like it’s a chore for you to be there.” You still didn’t respond, so with a sigh he conceded. “Fine, act as you like for now. But the moment you’re in public view you need to smile.”
The two of you sunk back into the silence for the remainder of the journey. Upon reaching the museum he automatically put his guard up, exiting the limo first and scanning the surroundings for any sign of trouble as one of the guards offered you his hand and helped you out. He stepped away from the car, holding out his arm in a clear invite for you to take it. Slowly you joined him from your side of the car, guards lining the streets either side of the two of you. As asked, you were smiling, it didn’t reach your eyes, but it was no longer something that could be mentioned, so making do with your loose grip on him he escorted you up the marble stairs to the grand entrance of the museum that was covered by a thick red ribbon that stretched the width of the entryway. The claps and cheers of the audience rung in his ears as he walked you back to the ribbon, pecking you on the cheek, briefly tightening his hand around yours before taking his place at the podium and allowing the crowd to settle before he spoke.
It is with much appreciation that myself and the Princess stand here today to commemorate the re-opening of the Sanct Sybil National Museum after two years of hard and dedicated work from skilled craftsmen to restore this iconic monument. The effort put forth by them shines through every part of this structure, and serves as a fitting home for the history once again housed within its wall.
Sanct Sybil has come a long way from where it started, but we must never forget where we came from, or those who made it possible for us to live as we do. Therefore I would like for all of you to join me in celebrating this re-opening, for us to hold dear to our hearts the history that has led us to where we are, and to carry on their legacy of fighting for a better Sanct Sybil so the generations that follow ours can look back on us with the same thankfulness.”
The end of his speech was met with applauds and cheers as he turned and motioned you to his side. You did so obediently, plastering a smile on your face as he took your hand, each of you taking on side of the large scissors he had been given you posed for a moment at the ribbon, allowing the press to get their photos before finally cutting it.
Security stayed barely out of site as he guided you to the side, out of the way of the people entering the museum, nodding and greeting those who spoke to him as they entered.
“Are we not going in ourselves?”
“No, it’s too dangerous at the moment, the security may be the latest but our attendance has been broadcast nationwide. We can’t be sure of who might be waiting for a us.”
“Were you actually going to tell me we were only going to be here to cut the ribbon?”
“It may ‘just’ be ribbon cutting for you, but people can latch onto the smallest things. Crowd mentality could be used against you if you’re seen to be disrespecting Sanct Sybil.”
“Is missing one event all it takes to be seen as disrespectful around here?”
“Times are tense, and the tabloids will jump on anything they can to get a sale, even if it’s discrediting honest people and lying. They don’t care about the damage they do.”
Noticing that the security detail had begun to move, and that everyone had entered the museum, he took your hand in his. “Come now, we should head back to the palace. It’s safer there.”
You looked like you wanted to say something, but bit your tongue no doubt remembering you were still in public, he gently pulled you along, but soon noticed noise and commotion up ahead. Motioning to the closest security guard, he approached looking mildly nervous.
“Your highness, there are protesters. They’ve surrounded the limo.”
“What?” He managed to cloak his panic with just a slight widening of his eyes. “Is there any violence yet?”
“Not as of yet, but they’re riling each other up rather quickly, I don’t imagine it’ll be long.”
He frowned, crowd mentality was a dangerous thing. He had to get you out of there, and fast. He wasn’t going to risk your safety.
“There’s a spare unmarked car around the back of the museum, take her there and get her back to the palace as soon as possible. Let myself and my security detail know as soon as she’s there.”
“Ivan! I’m not leaving you-“
“You are.” He motioned to some of the security force. “You’ll guide her there, make sure no one is following you. Stay on high alert until she’s back within the palace gates, do you understand me? If anything happens to her, you will be held responsible.” They nodded, quickly taking your arm despite your protests and taking you around the side of the museum. He turned his back on you, walking away as he heard you calling out his name. “Be safe.”
It took many stressful hours to subdue the crowd. He had spoken to and made arrangements with more people than he care to count, from liaising with the museum staff to ensure the safe exit of their guests, to the police to get them working together with the royal security to contain the riot and to make sure those who started it were identified and arrested, and then contacting the department of information to pass on the identities of those involved to be investigated. Of course, he hadn’t let the stress show on his face, how could he as the symbol of Sanct Sybil? So by the time he returned to the palace himself, he was thoroughly exhausted.
He went to head to his room, but the hurried footsteps in his direction caused him to pause.
“What the hell are you playing at Ivan?!” Your angry voice reached his ears, and he had to hold back a sigh of exhaustion as he turned to face you.
“This isn’t personal. You needed to be removed from the area for your own safety.”
“Oh no no. You don’t get to make this about me Ivan. I have been trying so hard to be understanding, but I’m reaching my limit here! We promised to stay together! How could you just throw me in a car and send me off like I’m some kind of nuisance?! No explanation, no apology, no reassurance, NOTHING! For eight hours I’ve been wondering if you’re alive, injured, I had no idea! Do you know how helpless you’ve been making me feel recently?!” Your yelling rung around his skull, he needed to talk to you. Tell you of what had been happening, but he couldn’t now. He was far too tired, he couldn’t have such a straining conversation with you in the state he was currently in.
“Look, we can discuss this tomorrow. I’m tired and wish to go to bed now, I’ll be meeting with a number of governors tomorrow, so can we please postpone this until tomorrow evening?”
You seemed frozen in place, eyes wide, limbs shaking with pent up rage as you desperately bit your tongue. That was until you stalked past him.
“I’m staying in a guest room tonight. Don’t disturb me.” Your clipped warning was all he received before you disappeared down the corridor. Something about your tone unsettled him, he had seen you angry before, but to have it directed at him was not a pleasant experience. With another sigh, he trudged back to your shared bedroom, allowing a maid in to take you enough for the night from your wardrobe and vanity, before he changed and slid into bed, hoping the two of you would be able to fully discuss this tomorrow.
The next day was plain, he brushed off Mikhail’s suggestion of having a small talk with you before he left for the day, informing him that he was extremely busy and wouldn’t be free, but he also felt that perhaps it would be better to give you some more time to cool down. When he spoke with you, he wanted the both of you to be calm, he also advised Mikhail to return the items you had taken to the guest room back to your bedroom, he wouldn’t allow this discussion to fail, there was no need for you to sleep in the guest room and cause more work for the maids. His royal duties were easy to deal with, mainly consisting of discussing new potential policies with governors, and deciding whether they make logistical and financial sense, and collecting the paperwork of those that might be for further review. He made quick work of it all, deciding to take some of them home with him, he couldn’t break his plans for tonight.
It was seven in the evening upon his return. The sun had begun to set, dyeing the inside of the palace a beautiful orange. But something was wrong, he could tell. The staff were slow, sullen. The smiles they greeted him with seemed forced.
“Mikhail!” His butler appeared before him as if expecting his call.
“Yes, Your Highness?” He held the papers in his hand out to him.
“Please place these in my office. I need to go and find her.” He obviously knew who the ‘her’ he was referring to was. “Do you know where she is?”
“No, Sir.” He gave a sharp nod to confirm he had heard. There were a few places he thought you could be. The gardens, the library, the guest room you had stayed in. He was confused to find you in none of them, the last place he could think of. The bedroom. Perhaps you hadn’t had a good night sleep, was all he could consider. He knocked on the door, gently calling your name. When he got no response, his brow furrowed. Opening the door the check, his heart dropped. Something was definitely wrong.
The room was bare of any sign of you. The vanity missing your products, your nightstand devoid of framed photos, he checked the wardrobe, half empty. All of your clothes gone. His heart was drumming in his chest, ringing loudly in his ears as the possibilities crowded his thoughts, so he did the only thing he could think to do, and called one of the few people he could trust.
“You called, Your Highness?”
“Mikhail, what’s going on here? Where are her things? Where is she?”
“Because the last time I saw her is when she asked for a car to be brought to the front to take her to the airport.” His world seemed to freeze along with his panicked thoughts.
“She left for the airport early this morning.”
“I don’t know, Sir. I didn’t ask. But I assume she’s gone home.”
“Your Highness, it is my job to assist the royals in any request given to me. It is not my job to question and speculate. She asked for a car, I provided her with one. She also asked for me to give you this.” His gloved hand drew an envelope from his blazer pocket, which he then held out to him.
Ivan looked at the crisp white envelope, before carefully plucking it from his butler’s hand. He was furious at him, but he handled it with extreme care, gently running his fingers over his name that was etched in black ink in that familiar handwriting.
“I assumed had has something to do with the funeral.”
“Did she not tell you? Her father passed away a few weeks ago, his funeral was yesterday. She was devastated that she couldn’t attend.
The conversation you had had crossed his mind, and he suddenly felt the guilt consume him, he had called something so personal little more than an errand, dismissed it outright. His anger at you felt so misplaced after he realised the reason behind your sadness. Had he truly been so distant from you that you felt unable to tell him something so important?
“Leave, Mikhail. I don’t want to see you for a while.”
“Of course, Your Highness.” He gave a bow, before exiting the room.
Silence enveloped him, and he didn’t want to disturb it, taking slow, quiet steps towards the bed, he turned and sat himself down. Simply staring at the envelope for a while. It felt as if the moment he opened it, he would regret it. He wasn’t sure he wanted to read what you had written. But in the end the concern for your wellbeing being won over his nerves, and he opened the envelope, unfolding the letter inside.
I’m sorry, I can’t do this anymore. I wish I were someone stronger, someone you felt you could rely on, someone you felt safe in sharing your troubles with. But these past months have showed me that this isn’t the case. I’ve tried so hard to reach out to you, so many times I’ve tried to give you even a moment’s rest, but you just won’t hear of it. I’m sorry it took me until yesterday to see it.
It’s become clear to me that we can’t stay together, not like this. It feels as if there’s a mountain between us, and that’s not what a marriage should be built on. I’m not even sure if you’ll care that I’ve left, it certainly doesn’t feel like you’ve cared about much at all, not recently at least. Somewhere along the way, the mutual trust between us has been lost. You seem so far out of my reach, and it breaks my heart to even look at you. I’m sorry I’m not someone you could rely on. I wish you well, Ivan, and I truly do wish you are able to find that person, whoever they may be.
I am sad to go, and I have no doubt this will hurt me for a while, but I don’t hold malice towards you. Your job is an important one, I know this, and I’m sorry that I didn’t notice sooner that there was something stopping you from confiding in me as you did. Time changes people, and it appears to have changed us. There can’t be happiness in such a relationship.
I love you Ivan, and I wish you the very best, as the future ruler of Sanct Sybil, and as a person. From the bottom of my heart. I’ve learnt so much at your side, and grown as a person, and I will be forever thankful for that. Goodbye, and may the very best of luck be with you.
He stared at the words, reading over them again and again, nearly burning them into his brain. You were gone. He had never realised how large this palace, how large this room felt to be in alone. Your infectious smile and optimism seemed to coat the walls, and with it gone the place felt hollow and empty. Looking up, he placed the letter on his bedside and in its place picked up a simple framed picture of the two of you. It was taken by one of the princes when they all came over simply because they could. The two of you had taken them all to the field you often took Snieg and Urey , the photo had been snapped there.
It was one of your favourite places, and as he thought back on all the time you two had spent there, he recalled a particular conversation he had had with you whilst there on a picnic.
“You don’t need to lie to me, it’s written clear as day on your face.”
“Alright, I am a little tired.”
“It’s to be expected. One day I will carry the responsibility of this whole country.”
“The whole country?” The smile you had given him shone bright in his mind. “Isn’t that stressful?”
“Well, if that ever becomes too much to think about, try to think about it in terms of those closest to you.”
“Well, trying to see a whole country isn’t easy. So see it as doing the best thing by those close to you! You know, Mikhail, the staff at the palace. To do the best by them, their families need to be happy as well, do by narrowing it down to the individual level it can be less daunting, you know? See it as not the whole country, but as a few people who are close to your heart. That way, you know you wouldn’t do wrong by them.”
The words you had spoken that day rung in his mind, and he pressed his forehead against the glass of the frame and shut his eyes. He hadn’t done what was best for you, too concerned about everything else and assuming how you would react, and only now did he realise he had done so, too late to make amends.
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