The archduke managed to catch Madeleine off guard. Of all the conversations she could have foreseen taking place, a discussion of rearing children was not one she had considered. Yet there was a sense of pride that swelled in Madeleine’s chest, for if he was asking her such things, not only did he trust her, but he trusted her ability to parent. Still, his question brought with it a sense of dread. Her husband and her precious little lion had been at odds with one another for years. Her son lived away from Tre Kronor, in his own right to Drottningholm. The space was something Madeleine believed prevented Einar and Valdemar from tearing one another apart. It was a distance that brought great pain to the Swedish matriarch, for she desired very much that her husband and son would be a united force, not each upon opposing sides of a coin.
“Your grace, if I may be so forward, I do not believe any child desires a marriage negotiated for them upon parchment. Our children are not pawns, of course they are not. And we do not, as parents, desire to move them upon a chessboard as if they are. But we must.” She sounded like her husband, she realized, and the relationship between Klaus and Elias seemed to mirror Valdemar and Einar’s very well. Resentment. Youthful anger. “There is an expected amount of resentment in such matters. Your son is young, he likely feels overwhelmed by the pressures around him. For surely he knows his duty, you have made clear to him what he must do. But what he must do does not align with what he desires to do. It is the great fault of man that our duty and our desires so rarely align.” She paused a moment, her eyes soft, filled with sympathy. She could not picture Valdemar handling Einar alone. Without her there. Without her gentle understanding, her patience, and unconditional love.
“Let not your heart be sorrowful, your grace. You are not inadequate as a parent for the resentment your little prince bears toward you. It is a consequence of blissful youth. It is not truly you he is fighting against. Surely not. Perhaps it is a fear of letting go of his youth. Or perhaps it is a resentment at the principle of marrying for the good of a country and not for his own good. Or it is anger and resentment toward himself for feeling weighed down by the pressure circumstance places upon his shoulders. But you? You are his father. You gave breath to him. Life. He finds himself enraged with you because you are the cornerstone at which he stands.”
Madeleine took a breath, realizing that she had endured this conversation in her head time and time again. Her own son fought against the path that had been lain before him. “You are grown, steady and mature, you wait out the storm because you know it will cease. He has not yet come to the realization that our duty is not our unbecoming. That though it may not be the fate and path we may wish to walk, it does not require that we find no happiness. In his youthful mind, the storm seems endless. And with all that has occurred in his life as of late, the storm seems to only worsen at his attempts to calm it. He may feel you are asking him to do such, to calm the storm, when in reality you are asking him to build up his fortress to withstand it. You are asking him to be the man who builds his house out of stones not glass. Yet he believes you are asking him to outstretch his hands and do what none can do. It is a matter of youthful ignorance, of misunderstanding.”
“Your late wife, God rest her soul, may have been more suited to showing him that you ask not the impossible, but that he learn the ways in which we hold back the waters that threaten to drown us. That does not mean you are incapable of showing him that. Perhaps you show him by encouraging him to make choices on his own. His entire life due to his youth has likely been one of quiet obedience, but the luxury of being a man is that you master the life you are given within the confines fate saw fit to place you. Show him, your grace. Show him that he may not choose the ship on which he must sail nor the waters he must navigate, but that he may choose the ropes to pull, that he may choose to look at the stars not to guide him but to delight him. That does not mean he will not protest in his cabin for more time to come. But the greatness of you is that you continue to knock. You continue to ask him if he desires to come up for air. You must harbor a great deal of patience, your grace. It is not easy.”
She looked to her fingers, thinking of her own son, of how many times she had gently brushed his hair and promised him she’d do anything to find his happiness. There was a gentleness to women that could not always be found in men. Yet Klaus seemed capable of such steadiness, of such patience. “I wish that I could give you a recipe for stopping the resentment, but I feel that it is a matter of patience. What will ease your heart is accepting that it is not you he resents. And once you do, you may find it easier to guide him from his anger, to help him to channel it, to come to terms with what exactly he is angry at.” She hesitated a moment, not wishing to insult him. “You may also find that he becomes enraged with you because you are a constant. Perhaps you should give him space, so that he may evaluate what surrounds him, what he has, what the world is asking him to do, and realize that not only could he be far less fortunate, but no matter where life sees fit to place us, we all have trials and tribulations. We all have duties and responsibilities we’d rather not have. He must experience the world as it is, not as he sees it.”
“And, one further thought, your grace. Perhaps you may speak to validate his feelings. I know that emotions and feelings can be a difficult thing to navigate, women are far more fortunate in being permitted to truly experience our feelings. But if you can validate his feelings and teach him to act in spite of them, to wear his pain and his anger like armor and not let it weigh him down, then perhaps he will learn to control his emotions rather than let them control him. That combined with the reassurance that he does not walk alone, may serve to benefit your relationship. He has been destined to live for more than himself. Show him. Show him the country for which he is making these sacrifices. Let him see the people he serves. Let him feel as he feels, but walk with him each step, even if it is from a distance. Then when your prodigal son returns to you, love him unconditionally. Love him even when he chooses to be selfish. Even when he chooses to rage against you because you know it is himself that he rages against. Remember the wise words of Solomon: a gentle answer turns away wrath, but a harsh word stirs up anger. Meet his anger with gentleness and truth. It will quell, the flames of his rage will cool.”
He is quiet for a time, drinking in Madeleine’s answer. He is impressed by the thoroughness and the understanding that she shows, and he knows now that he was right to come to her with his concerns. She is so assured and steady that he cannot help but believe her words with all of his heart. Einar is very blessed, he thinks, to have a mother of such wisdom.
“I have never paused to consider that it is himself that he rages against. I was not so different from him in my younger years, and I thought perhaps I would understand him the better for it. But our reasons for behaving so must be quite different. “He sighs, brows drawn up together. His children are the light of his life; he had not anticipated that this would also make them the greatest worry. “You are a good woman, and Einar is fortunate to have you. He will grow into a fine man, soon. Do not answer me if I am too bold, but I am aware that he stays often at a different home. Do you find that this helps? I do not know if I could bear to be parted from Elias or Amelie, but if it would help them then I would find the strength.”
It is something that he must accept, sooner or later. They both will be grown soon, and will move away from him, and he will be alone then. Perhaps it is the fear of that that can cause him to be so overbearing a father.