5. The beginning of the rumor
“I don’t want to see you, so I told you to just go out, but you still do that!”
The Baroness of Baden's voice, full of anger, shook the tranquility of the country house. The chickens and geese wandering around the backyard, startled and scurrying, could be faintly heard through the open window.
“I’m sorry, Grandma. It was my fault. Yes?”
Erna, who had dismissed Madame Greve with a wink, cautiously took a few more steps toward her grandmother. Baroness Baden, seated in a chair by the window, stubbornly ignored Erna. It had been this way ever since she heard about the events in Schwerin.
"If you really think so, contact Walter Hardy immediately. I'll pretend this ridiculous deal never happened."
Baroness Baden finally faced Erna after a long time.
"That can't be, Grandma. The Hardy family's lawyer is meeting with Thomas Baden today to finalize the deal. My father owns the property for now, but he's promised me that it will eventually be passed down to me. Then we can live in this house forever, worry-free."
“Hey, what’s the point of selling yourself to get this house?”
"Selling! Why would you say that? No. That's absolutely not true, Grandma."
Erna frowned and sneered.
"It's good for everyone. This house is safe, and at least I can live with my father."
"Are you serious, Erna? You really want that?"
"... Yes."
Erna smiled hastily.
“Yes, I am serious.”
Looking at her grandmother's eyes, which were still filled with sadness, it seemed like it wasn't a very successful lie.
Her father granted her request.
He offered to buy the country house inherited from Thomas Baden and give it to Erna. Erna was so shocked she nearly blacked out. She'd clung to it recklessly, hoping it would be her last hope, but she never imagined it would come so easily. Of course, there was a price to pay, so it wasn't a free stroke of luck.
In exchange for granting his daughter's request, Viscount Hardy made an unexpected offer: let them live together in a house, as a proper family. He said he was already feeling uneasy about leaving his daughter so far away until she was a young woman of marriageable age.
'One year. Give me that much time, Father.'
When Erna hesitated, her father added urgently.
"Let's stay in Schwerin for a year or so, get involved in social life, and take the time to expand the network you'll need for your future. It seems like a fatherly duty to provide you with at least that foundation."
At his nod, the Viscountess joined in. Her passionate explanation of how she would help Erna live as a proper noble daughter was nothing more than a meaningless illusion to Erna.
Erna loved the quiet life here, where today was the same as yesterday, and tomorrow was no different. If this life, built on days like this, could be beautifully completed like a patchwork quilt her grandmother had made, she could wish for nothing more.
Still, she agreed because it was the best option. Erna wanted to protect this house at all costs. Even if it was foolish stubbornness, it was fine. Staying by her father's side for a year or so in exchange for this house wasn't such a bad deal.
“Just go out and try.”
Baroness Baden averted her gaze from her granddaughter.
"Grandma..."
“Please, Erna. I think I need some time alone.”
Her eyes, staring out the window, were even redder.
Erna left her grandmother's bedroom without another word. Her shadow trailed behind her feeble, stepping steps.
The topic of conversation at the drinking party returned to horse racing.
The children of prestigious families, members of the social club, were all horse owners themselves, so the mere mention of horses drove them half-mad and passionate. When the topic of the last horse race's winner came up, eyes, a mixture of admiration and jealousy, focused on Bjorn. The stallion owned by the Grand Duke had won various horse races throughout the kingdom. Yet, the owner rarely showed up at the racecourse.
"Bjorn, if you're not into horse racing, why don't you sell it? I'm sure there are plenty of owners lining up for a hefty price. I'll be the first to line up."
“Then I’ll give you 1.5 times what that kid is asking for.”
“I double.”
Everyone waited excitedly for Bjorn's answer.
“I’m not really interested in horse racing.”
Bjorn downed his glass in one gulp and replied calmly. Everyone's eyes were now gleaming with unconcealed anticipation.
“But I won’t sell it.”
“You're not interested, so why?”
“Because it’s mine.”
Bjorn's indifferent response drew sighs from all sides. Despite all the attempts at coaxing and persuasion, Bjorn, as always, simply listened indifferently.
“You are a Prince who doesn’t even listen to what others say.”
Peter shook his head and laughed.
"What kind of logic is that, saying I won't sell it because it's mine even if I'm not interested? Anyway, you pervert."
Peter, grumbling with a frown, filled his empty glass in a rather friendly manner.
The men, who had been engrossed in horse racing for a while, naturally shifted their conversation to women. Bjorn glanced at the grandfather clock positioned diagonally across the room, then sat cross-legged, resting his chin on the table.
“Oh! The new maid at the Hardy house is really amazing!”
As the names of society ladies renowned for their beauty were mentioned, someone suddenly threw in a new piece of firewood.
"The Hardy family? That family probably can't afford to hire a new maid right now. They'll probably have to let go of the ones they have."
"So, is she the maid they've had for a long time? Anyway, I'm sure she's the family's maid. I saw her enter that house."
“What? You’ve already tailed her?”
"What about tailing her? I ran into her by chance on Tara Street, and she was so beautiful I thought I'd say hello. But she ran away in fright, so I didn't even get to say her name. She looked like a country girl, but she was really timid."
"To surprise a beauty? Your cheek was wrong. Look at our Prince. Even a timid country girl would have greeted him sweetly, like honey."
"Shut up."
The useless stories exchanged with laughter spread along with the scent of alcohol.
Hardy.
Bjorn rose from his seat, muttering a name he'd been hearing so often lately. The brandy in his glass in one hand swayed to the rhythm of his footsteps.
“Everyone arrived early.”
Entering the study on the second floor of the club, Bjorn smiled and greeted everyone. The bank directors sitting around the reception sofa all looked up at him.
“It is not that we are early, but that Your Highness is late.”
“Hmm. Well.”
Bjorn leaned back on the top seat and pointed to his watch.
“It’s exactly the time. Right?”
As soon as he finished speaking, the clock struck exactly four o'clock. Bjorn's face, smiling as if he were a magnanimous man, was surprisingly cheerful, unlike the prodigal son who had been drinking since midday.
Bjorn set his empty glass down on the edge of the table and readily accepted the thick document the lawyer offered him. It was a detailed report on the new influx of foreign bonds and municipal bonds into Letzen's financial markets.
Bjorn began to read the documents carefully. He had already had quite a bit to drink, but his calm gaze betrayed no trace of intoxication.
The men sitting around the study silently waited for him to finish his review. These men, renowned financiers and lawyers, were gathering in broad daylight at a social club, pretending to be the prodigal son's henchmen, because that prodigal son was none other than Bjorn Dneister.
The decision to suddenly partner with the Prince, who was about to establish a bank, was purely due to his connections and capital. Since he was unlikely to be a dedicated worker, they assumed it would be enough to just appoint him as a puppet holding the purse strings. To think that Bjorn, who was like that, would become the goose that laid the golden eggs? No one dared to expect this.
So what does that reputation mean?
The profits were reaping thanks to that poisonous mushroom prince, who was definitely born with it, and it was a sweet fruit that made him forget everything else.
“Yes, then let’s begin.”
Bjorn quickly reviewed the documents and smiled. It was a smile that foreshadowed another successful year.
“Sir, did I do something wrong?”
Handing over the nail she was clutching tightly, Erna asked with a serious expression. Ralph Royce glanced at her, but without reply, he began hammering away. The loud thumping sound sent dust flying from the pile of clothes on the fence.
Despite constant sneezing, Erna remained by Ralph's side. By the time the half-collapsed fence had returned to its original state, the bridge of her nose was red.
“I am sure Madam will be very upset to see you leave.”
Ralph Royce wiped his face with the towel Erna had handed him, and only then did he give a belated answer.
“Madam knew very well that she couldn’t keep the young lady in this countryside like this forever... but still, this is too sudden a separation.”
Despite his blunt tone, his gaze towards Erna was filled with warmth and sadness that could not be hidden.
Baroness Baden ultimately accepted her granddaughter's wishes. Erna was scheduled to leave for Schwerin, her father's home, tomorrow. The fact that he had sent servants all the way to Burford to retrieve his daughter showed that Viscount Hardy had made up his mind.
“I’m sorry, Sir.”
Erna, who was staring at him blankly, whispered.
“I’m so sorry for making such a rash decision and causing everyone so much grief.”
“Miss Erna...”
“But I won’t regret it since I protected this house.”
Erna's smile was so bright that even the shadow of her wide straw hat couldn't hide it.
Ralph, rubbing his reddened eyes, nodded in response. If he had opened his mouth, he might have burst into tears. As if to say she understood his feelings, Erna stayed by his side for a long moment. The late afternoon sunlight, pouring down on the two of them leaning against the newly repaired fence, was dazzling.
“Please take good care of Grandma until I get back, Sir.”
Erna, who had been kicking the dirt floor, cautiously offered a request. Ralph Royce nodded again, his face flushed even more than before.
He was the Baden family's coachman, and after the family no longer had a carriage, he took on various odd jobs. Even after the family's finances became so poor that they could no longer afford to pay their wages, only he and the housekeeper, Madame Greve, remained.
Erna knew that it was not without its share of affection and loyalty, having been together for so many years, but also because they were already so old that finding another job was a distant prospect.
That's why she wanted to protect this house even more.
She hopes they, who are now like family, can stay here for a long time, with peace of mind. For that, she could easily endure a year. Next spring, she'll be able to gaze upon this beautiful, peaceful landscape from this house again.
Erna left the Baden family the next morning. It was a few days later that rumors about the Hardy family's daughter, who had suddenly appeared, began to spread through high society.
The daughter of Viscount Hardy, who had been convalescing in the countryside due to her frail health, has reportedly returned. She'll be making a belated social debut this season, and she's said to be a beauty no less than Princess Gladys. Expectations are running high.
It was a rumor of that kind, the source of which was somewhat dubious, but it was good enough to pique the interest of the rich.
“I don’t want to see you, so I told you to just go out, but you still do that!”
The Baroness of Baden's voice, full of anger, shook the tranquility of the country house. The chickens and geese wandering around the backyard, startled and scurrying, could be faintly heard through the open window.
“I’m sorry, Grandma. It was my fault. Yes?”
Erna, who had dismissed Madame Greve with a wink, cautiously took a few more steps toward her grandmother. Baroness Baden, seated in a chair by the window, stubbornly ignored Erna. It had been this way ever since she heard about the events in Schwerin.
"If you really think so, contact Walter Hardy immediately. I'll pretend this ridiculous deal never happened."
Baroness Baden finally faced Erna after a long time.
"That can't be, Grandma. The Hardy family's lawyer is meeting with Thomas Baden today to finalize the deal. My father owns the property for now, but he's promised me that it will eventually be passed down to me. Then we can live in this house forever, worry-free."
“Hey, what’s the point of selling yourself to get this house?”
"Selling! Why would you say that? No. That's absolutely not true, Grandma."
Erna frowned and sneered.
"It's good for everyone. This house is safe, and at least I can live with my father."
"Are you serious, Erna? You really want that?"
"... Yes."
Erna smiled hastily.
“Yes, I am serious.”
Looking at her grandmother's eyes, which were still filled with sadness, it seemed like it wasn't a very successful lie.
Her father granted her request.
He offered to buy the country house inherited from Thomas Baden and give it to Erna. Erna was so shocked she nearly blacked out. She'd clung to it recklessly, hoping it would be her last hope, but she never imagined it would come so easily. Of course, there was a price to pay, so it wasn't a free stroke of luck.
In exchange for granting his daughter's request, Viscount Hardy made an unexpected offer: let them live together in a house, as a proper family. He said he was already feeling uneasy about leaving his daughter so far away until she was a young woman of marriageable age.
'One year. Give me that much time, Father.'
When Erna hesitated, her father added urgently.
"Let's stay in Schwerin for a year or so, get involved in social life, and take the time to expand the network you'll need for your future. It seems like a fatherly duty to provide you with at least that foundation."
At his nod, the Viscountess joined in. Her passionate explanation of how she would help Erna live as a proper noble daughter was nothing more than a meaningless illusion to Erna.
Erna loved the quiet life here, where today was the same as yesterday, and tomorrow was no different. If this life, built on days like this, could be beautifully completed like a patchwork quilt her grandmother had made, she could wish for nothing more.
Still, she agreed because it was the best option. Erna wanted to protect this house at all costs. Even if it was foolish stubbornness, it was fine. Staying by her father's side for a year or so in exchange for this house wasn't such a bad deal.
“Just go out and try.”
Baroness Baden averted her gaze from her granddaughter.
"Grandma..."
“Please, Erna. I think I need some time alone.”
Her eyes, staring out the window, were even redder.
Erna left her grandmother's bedroom without another word. Her shadow trailed behind her feeble, stepping steps.
***
The topic of conversation at the drinking party returned to horse racing.
The children of prestigious families, members of the social club, were all horse owners themselves, so the mere mention of horses drove them half-mad and passionate. When the topic of the last horse race's winner came up, eyes, a mixture of admiration and jealousy, focused on Bjorn. The stallion owned by the Grand Duke had won various horse races throughout the kingdom. Yet, the owner rarely showed up at the racecourse.
"Bjorn, if you're not into horse racing, why don't you sell it? I'm sure there are plenty of owners lining up for a hefty price. I'll be the first to line up."
“Then I’ll give you 1.5 times what that kid is asking for.”
“I double.”
Everyone waited excitedly for Bjorn's answer.
“I’m not really interested in horse racing.”
Bjorn downed his glass in one gulp and replied calmly. Everyone's eyes were now gleaming with unconcealed anticipation.
“But I won’t sell it.”
“You're not interested, so why?”
“Because it’s mine.”
Bjorn's indifferent response drew sighs from all sides. Despite all the attempts at coaxing and persuasion, Bjorn, as always, simply listened indifferently.
“You are a Prince who doesn’t even listen to what others say.”
Peter shook his head and laughed.
"What kind of logic is that, saying I won't sell it because it's mine even if I'm not interested? Anyway, you pervert."
Peter, grumbling with a frown, filled his empty glass in a rather friendly manner.
The men, who had been engrossed in horse racing for a while, naturally shifted their conversation to women. Bjorn glanced at the grandfather clock positioned diagonally across the room, then sat cross-legged, resting his chin on the table.
“Oh! The new maid at the Hardy house is really amazing!”
As the names of society ladies renowned for their beauty were mentioned, someone suddenly threw in a new piece of firewood.
"The Hardy family? That family probably can't afford to hire a new maid right now. They'll probably have to let go of the ones they have."
"So, is she the maid they've had for a long time? Anyway, I'm sure she's the family's maid. I saw her enter that house."
“What? You’ve already tailed her?”
"What about tailing her? I ran into her by chance on Tara Street, and she was so beautiful I thought I'd say hello. But she ran away in fright, so I didn't even get to say her name. She looked like a country girl, but she was really timid."
"To surprise a beauty? Your cheek was wrong. Look at our Prince. Even a timid country girl would have greeted him sweetly, like honey."
"Shut up."
The useless stories exchanged with laughter spread along with the scent of alcohol.
Hardy.
Bjorn rose from his seat, muttering a name he'd been hearing so often lately. The brandy in his glass in one hand swayed to the rhythm of his footsteps.
“Everyone arrived early.”
Entering the study on the second floor of the club, Bjorn smiled and greeted everyone. The bank directors sitting around the reception sofa all looked up at him.
“It is not that we are early, but that Your Highness is late.”
“Hmm. Well.”
Bjorn leaned back on the top seat and pointed to his watch.
“It’s exactly the time. Right?”
As soon as he finished speaking, the clock struck exactly four o'clock. Bjorn's face, smiling as if he were a magnanimous man, was surprisingly cheerful, unlike the prodigal son who had been drinking since midday.
Bjorn set his empty glass down on the edge of the table and readily accepted the thick document the lawyer offered him. It was a detailed report on the new influx of foreign bonds and municipal bonds into Letzen's financial markets.
Bjorn began to read the documents carefully. He had already had quite a bit to drink, but his calm gaze betrayed no trace of intoxication.
The men sitting around the study silently waited for him to finish his review. These men, renowned financiers and lawyers, were gathering in broad daylight at a social club, pretending to be the prodigal son's henchmen, because that prodigal son was none other than Bjorn Dneister.
The decision to suddenly partner with the Prince, who was about to establish a bank, was purely due to his connections and capital. Since he was unlikely to be a dedicated worker, they assumed it would be enough to just appoint him as a puppet holding the purse strings. To think that Bjorn, who was like that, would become the goose that laid the golden eggs? No one dared to expect this.
So what does that reputation mean?
The profits were reaping thanks to that poisonous mushroom prince, who was definitely born with it, and it was a sweet fruit that made him forget everything else.
“Yes, then let’s begin.”
Bjorn quickly reviewed the documents and smiled. It was a smile that foreshadowed another successful year.
***
“Sir, did I do something wrong?”
Handing over the nail she was clutching tightly, Erna asked with a serious expression. Ralph Royce glanced at her, but without reply, he began hammering away. The loud thumping sound sent dust flying from the pile of clothes on the fence.
Despite constant sneezing, Erna remained by Ralph's side. By the time the half-collapsed fence had returned to its original state, the bridge of her nose was red.
“I am sure Madam will be very upset to see you leave.”
Ralph Royce wiped his face with the towel Erna had handed him, and only then did he give a belated answer.
“Madam knew very well that she couldn’t keep the young lady in this countryside like this forever... but still, this is too sudden a separation.”
Despite his blunt tone, his gaze towards Erna was filled with warmth and sadness that could not be hidden.
Baroness Baden ultimately accepted her granddaughter's wishes. Erna was scheduled to leave for Schwerin, her father's home, tomorrow. The fact that he had sent servants all the way to Burford to retrieve his daughter showed that Viscount Hardy had made up his mind.
“I’m sorry, Sir.”
Erna, who was staring at him blankly, whispered.
“I’m so sorry for making such a rash decision and causing everyone so much grief.”
“Miss Erna...”
“But I won’t regret it since I protected this house.”
Erna's smile was so bright that even the shadow of her wide straw hat couldn't hide it.
Ralph, rubbing his reddened eyes, nodded in response. If he had opened his mouth, he might have burst into tears. As if to say she understood his feelings, Erna stayed by his side for a long moment. The late afternoon sunlight, pouring down on the two of them leaning against the newly repaired fence, was dazzling.
“Please take good care of Grandma until I get back, Sir.”
Erna, who had been kicking the dirt floor, cautiously offered a request. Ralph Royce nodded again, his face flushed even more than before.
He was the Baden family's coachman, and after the family no longer had a carriage, he took on various odd jobs. Even after the family's finances became so poor that they could no longer afford to pay their wages, only he and the housekeeper, Madame Greve, remained.
Erna knew that it was not without its share of affection and loyalty, having been together for so many years, but also because they were already so old that finding another job was a distant prospect.
That's why she wanted to protect this house even more.
She hopes they, who are now like family, can stay here for a long time, with peace of mind. For that, she could easily endure a year. Next spring, she'll be able to gaze upon this beautiful, peaceful landscape from this house again.
***
Erna left the Baden family the next morning. It was a few days later that rumors about the Hardy family's daughter, who had suddenly appeared, began to spread through high society.
The daughter of Viscount Hardy, who had been convalescing in the countryside due to her frail health, has reportedly returned. She'll be making a belated social debut this season, and she's said to be a beauty no less than Princess Gladys. Expectations are running high.
It was a rumor of that kind, the source of which was somewhat dubious, but it was good enough to pique the interest of the rich.
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