2. Love your destiny
The train to Schwerin pulled into the platform right on time. The pale dawn was just beginning to clear, and day was just beginning to dawn.
Erna, standing stiff as a stick, hesitantly approached the train. The rural station, which had just received its first train, was deserted. After the few passengers had hurriedly boarded, Erna was the only one left on the platform.
“Hey, Miss. Aren’t you going to get off?”
The stationmaster's blunt question woke Erna from her stupor.
“Ah... yes.”
Erna turned her anxious eyes, which had been wandering around, to face the stationmaster. The hand that gripped the trunk with all its might began to tremble slightly.
You must have found the letter by now.
Erna's gaze deepened as she looked back on history.
She couldn't bring herself to tell her grandmother that she wanted to meet her father. She knew Baroness Baden, a stubborn woman, would rather be penniless than ask for help from a son-in-law she regarded as her enemy. After much deliberation, Erna finally chose the rather unladylike path of leaving behind a letter explaining her situation and sneaking away.
Father.
Her heartbeat quickened as she repeated that strange, alien name. Their last meeting was at her mother's funeral, so it had been eleven years since they last saw each other. She knew they were no different from, or worse than, strangers, but for now, he was Erna's last hope. Perhaps she'd be turned away.
Erna, clutching her trunk and catching her breath, raised her head and faced the train before her. A heavy, black mass of iron gleamed menacingly in the morning sunlight.
“If you’re not going to ride it...”
“Oh, no!”
Erna shook her head hastily and shouted, her blue eyes sparkling with power.
“I’m sorry. I’ll get off. I’ll get off!”
Love your destiny.
Erna took a trembling step forward, recalling the sentence that had become the motto of her life.
This world doesn't care about a single person's misfortune, so you must forge your own path in life. Writhing in self-pity won't change anything, so it's better to embrace whatever fate comes your way. Love motivates effort, and a dedicated effort is always better than resignation.
If clinging to even a sliver of hope was her destiny, Erna was determined to love that fate. After all, wasn't Viscount Hardy Erna Hardy's father? He was supposed to be responsible for his children. But he had neglected that duty for so long. So now, at least, he was the one who had to fulfill that duty.
Leaving the stationmaster with a fierce expression behind her, Erna hurriedly boarded the train. The hem of her floral muslin dress rippled with her impatience. Holding her mother's hand, she returned home after 14 years. It was the beginning of a long journey.
Bjorn slowly set down his teacup. His flawless, graceful movements accentuated his awkward, long, crossed-legged posture.
“Are you listening to me now?”
A woman's bewildered voice shattered the silence of the sun-filled living room.
"Why? You don't want to answer? Surely that article isn't true, right? Yes?"
The woman's voice, which was urging him on, grew louder.
Bjorn slowly swept his sleepy face, then picked up his teacup again. Taking another sip of the just-cooled tea, he felt his dazed mind clearing.
“Bjorn!”
Unable to control her anger, the woman abruptly rose from her seat. A ray of sunlight streaming through the window illuminated her like a stage spotlight. She looked impeccably dressed, a sight befitting someone who had raced all the way from the capital to Schwerin before noon.
Bjorn looked at the woman with eyes finally accustomed to the sunlight. His gray eyes, bathed in sunlight, took on a mysterious, opal-like radiance.
He returned home at dawn, showered, and collapsed into bed after the sun had set. So, for Bjorn at least, it was the middle of the night. This was definitely not a good time to wake up.
Bjorn slowly opened his eyes and leaned back against the back of his chair. Beyond the window facing the river, the shouts of the group practicing rowing began to be heard.
What a fucking good morning.
Bjorn let out a sigh mixed with laughter and calmly picked up the newspaper that the woman who had barged in had tossed at him. The front page of the same tabloid Leonid had brought him a while ago was still adorned with his article.
Exclusive, confidential information from close associates regarding the reunion of the former Crown Prince and his wife.
Bjorn glanced absentmindedly at the grand headline and the large photo of himself, then began to read the article with narrowed eyes.
According to reports from close associates who requested anonymity, there's clearly something fishy going on between them. While forgiving an ex-husband for such a shameless act is never wise, Princess Gladys, with her fragile heart, seems to be wavering. As a result, Letzen's social scene is expected to heat up this summer. That kind of carefully crafted nonsense filled the pages. It was clear that the newspaper was a failure in everything except its ability to select good photographs.
Bjorn chuckled and casually put down the newspaper. The woman who had been watching him with bated breath now flushed with an unconcealable contempt.
“Are you saying you have no intention of explaining?”
The woman now clenched her fists, her eyes reddening.
“Let’s break up.”
She shouted in a sharp voice, as if making a solemn declaration. Bjorn, a cigar between his lips, glanced up and met the woman's gaze.
"I don't think there's any reason to continue this relationship any longer. I think we'll get engaged before this spring is out."
Despite her triumphant tone, the woman's eyes held a veiled anxiety. Bjorn stared blankly at her and lit the end of his cigar.
She wasn't a bad lover.
It was a relationship that was appropriately elegant, appropriately vulgar, and, above all, well-acknowledged in the sense that it was a relationship where they would enjoy themselves comfortably within the appropriate boundaries before returning to their separate lives. No, it seemed that way until she burst in, excited by the sight of Gladys Hartford's name in a cheap daily newspaper.
“Congratulations on your engagement, Miss Perez.”
Bjorn nodded willingly and smiled. The whisper that flowed out along with the white smoke was soft and gentle.
“What did you say?”
The woman, blinking slowly, asked back in a tone of astonishment.
"You're so selfish, so mean, so cold-blooded! How could you do this to me?"
“Well, you were the one who said we should break up.”
The tips of his long fingers slowly stroked the rim of the teacup.
“I accepted it.”
Isn't that right?
As if to ask a question, Bjorn tilted his head. His hair, which had been carelessly swept back, fell in his wake. The woman simply bit her lip, unable to offer any rebuttal.
Bjorn stood up from the table, leaving the woman with a flushed face. Smoke rose from the cigar he had tossed into the ashtray, dissipating on the wind that passed through the window.
“Just a moment!”
The woman called out to him, almost screaming. Bjorn stopped walking and answered with a glance over his shoulder.
“Is that all you have to say to me?”
The Perez family's daughter now wore an expression bordering on tears. Her face was still beautiful, but it didn't evoke any particular emotion.
Bjorn slowly turned to his former lover, who wasn't bad at all. He bowed politely, with the utmost courtesy. It was a dignified greeting, completely out of place with his loosely buttoned gown.
“I hope you become a wonderful Countess.”
The lips, which had a seemingly gentle smile, shone red in the sunlight.
Leaving the half-struck woman behind, Bjorn left the drawing room. Madame Fitz, who had been standing guard outside the door, followed him like a shadow.
“I trust you’re not trying to put me to sleep by singing me a lullaby.”
The corners of Bjorn's lips curved gently as he saw Mrs. Fitz following him to the bedroom door.
“I can certainly do so if Your Highness wishes, but unfortunately, it seems difficult right now.”
Madame Fitz, as always, returned the joke with a stern demeanor. She had been the Crown Prince's nanny, but now she was in charge of the household at Schwerin Palace. Even as a gray-haired old woman, her stern demeanor remained unchanged.
“You must leave for the train station soon.”
"Train station?"
“Her Majesty the Queen will arrive soon.”
“Ah, it was today.”
Only then did Bjorn remember the schedule. His mother was visiting Schwerin, having been invited to a charity party at the Royal Hospital. Of course, it was his job to escort the Queen.
"Yes."
Bjorn accepted the given task with a slight nod.
“Let’s get ready.”
As the train passed through several cities, it began to become increasingly crowded with passengers. Even the compartment where Erna had been alone was soon full.
Erna, pressed against the window, gazed intently at the passing scenery with a mixture of curiosity and anxiety. Countless pedestrians and carriages meandered along the densely packed buildings, and the spiderweb-like roads weaved between them. Everything was so complex and dazzling, it felt like her eyes were spinning.
Still, since she knows the address, she can find it easily.
Suppressing her anxiety, Erna tried to console herself. After all, it was the city where she was born and raised, so there was no need to be overly fearful. Even though she hadn't lived there for even five years, it was still home.
While Erna was once again steeling her resolve, the train arrived at its final destination, Schwerin Central Station, and stopped.
Erna hurriedly packed her bags and left the cabin, blending in with the other passengers. With each powerful step, the ribbon on her hat, pulled tightly under her chin, and her neatly braided hair swayed. But that confident air didn't last long.
Erna didn't remember much about what happened after she went out into the hallway.
After being tossed and shoved back and forth, she finally got off the train. Then, with a sudden awakening, she found herself standing on the platform. The sheer number of people and the deafening noise overwhelmed Erna. She struggled to escape, but the more she tried, the further she was pushed away from the exit.
“There he is! He’s coming!”
Someone shouted loudly, and the eyes of everyone on the platform turned in one direction. Erna, who had nearly dropped her trunk and was now holding it, also turned her head in that direction.
Almost simultaneously, she realized she was at the head of a crowd of onlookers and spotted a tall man walking towards her from the other side.
The train to Schwerin pulled into the platform right on time. The pale dawn was just beginning to clear, and day was just beginning to dawn.
Erna, standing stiff as a stick, hesitantly approached the train. The rural station, which had just received its first train, was deserted. After the few passengers had hurriedly boarded, Erna was the only one left on the platform.
“Hey, Miss. Aren’t you going to get off?”
The stationmaster's blunt question woke Erna from her stupor.
“Ah... yes.”
Erna turned her anxious eyes, which had been wandering around, to face the stationmaster. The hand that gripped the trunk with all its might began to tremble slightly.
You must have found the letter by now.
Erna's gaze deepened as she looked back on history.
She couldn't bring herself to tell her grandmother that she wanted to meet her father. She knew Baroness Baden, a stubborn woman, would rather be penniless than ask for help from a son-in-law she regarded as her enemy. After much deliberation, Erna finally chose the rather unladylike path of leaving behind a letter explaining her situation and sneaking away.
Father.
Her heartbeat quickened as she repeated that strange, alien name. Their last meeting was at her mother's funeral, so it had been eleven years since they last saw each other. She knew they were no different from, or worse than, strangers, but for now, he was Erna's last hope. Perhaps she'd be turned away.
Erna, clutching her trunk and catching her breath, raised her head and faced the train before her. A heavy, black mass of iron gleamed menacingly in the morning sunlight.
“If you’re not going to ride it...”
“Oh, no!”
Erna shook her head hastily and shouted, her blue eyes sparkling with power.
“I’m sorry. I’ll get off. I’ll get off!”
Love your destiny.
Erna took a trembling step forward, recalling the sentence that had become the motto of her life.
This world doesn't care about a single person's misfortune, so you must forge your own path in life. Writhing in self-pity won't change anything, so it's better to embrace whatever fate comes your way. Love motivates effort, and a dedicated effort is always better than resignation.
If clinging to even a sliver of hope was her destiny, Erna was determined to love that fate. After all, wasn't Viscount Hardy Erna Hardy's father? He was supposed to be responsible for his children. But he had neglected that duty for so long. So now, at least, he was the one who had to fulfill that duty.
Leaving the stationmaster with a fierce expression behind her, Erna hurriedly boarded the train. The hem of her floral muslin dress rippled with her impatience. Holding her mother's hand, she returned home after 14 years. It was the beginning of a long journey.
***
Bjorn slowly set down his teacup. His flawless, graceful movements accentuated his awkward, long, crossed-legged posture.
“Are you listening to me now?”
A woman's bewildered voice shattered the silence of the sun-filled living room.
"Why? You don't want to answer? Surely that article isn't true, right? Yes?"
The woman's voice, which was urging him on, grew louder.
Bjorn slowly swept his sleepy face, then picked up his teacup again. Taking another sip of the just-cooled tea, he felt his dazed mind clearing.
“Bjorn!”
Unable to control her anger, the woman abruptly rose from her seat. A ray of sunlight streaming through the window illuminated her like a stage spotlight. She looked impeccably dressed, a sight befitting someone who had raced all the way from the capital to Schwerin before noon.
Bjorn looked at the woman with eyes finally accustomed to the sunlight. His gray eyes, bathed in sunlight, took on a mysterious, opal-like radiance.
He returned home at dawn, showered, and collapsed into bed after the sun had set. So, for Bjorn at least, it was the middle of the night. This was definitely not a good time to wake up.
Bjorn slowly opened his eyes and leaned back against the back of his chair. Beyond the window facing the river, the shouts of the group practicing rowing began to be heard.
What a fucking good morning.
Bjorn let out a sigh mixed with laughter and calmly picked up the newspaper that the woman who had barged in had tossed at him. The front page of the same tabloid Leonid had brought him a while ago was still adorned with his article.
Exclusive, confidential information from close associates regarding the reunion of the former Crown Prince and his wife.
Bjorn glanced absentmindedly at the grand headline and the large photo of himself, then began to read the article with narrowed eyes.
According to reports from close associates who requested anonymity, there's clearly something fishy going on between them. While forgiving an ex-husband for such a shameless act is never wise, Princess Gladys, with her fragile heart, seems to be wavering. As a result, Letzen's social scene is expected to heat up this summer. That kind of carefully crafted nonsense filled the pages. It was clear that the newspaper was a failure in everything except its ability to select good photographs.
Bjorn chuckled and casually put down the newspaper. The woman who had been watching him with bated breath now flushed with an unconcealable contempt.
“Are you saying you have no intention of explaining?”
The woman now clenched her fists, her eyes reddening.
“Let’s break up.”
She shouted in a sharp voice, as if making a solemn declaration. Bjorn, a cigar between his lips, glanced up and met the woman's gaze.
"I don't think there's any reason to continue this relationship any longer. I think we'll get engaged before this spring is out."
Despite her triumphant tone, the woman's eyes held a veiled anxiety. Bjorn stared blankly at her and lit the end of his cigar.
She wasn't a bad lover.
It was a relationship that was appropriately elegant, appropriately vulgar, and, above all, well-acknowledged in the sense that it was a relationship where they would enjoy themselves comfortably within the appropriate boundaries before returning to their separate lives. No, it seemed that way until she burst in, excited by the sight of Gladys Hartford's name in a cheap daily newspaper.
“Congratulations on your engagement, Miss Perez.”
Bjorn nodded willingly and smiled. The whisper that flowed out along with the white smoke was soft and gentle.
“What did you say?”
The woman, blinking slowly, asked back in a tone of astonishment.
"You're so selfish, so mean, so cold-blooded! How could you do this to me?"
“Well, you were the one who said we should break up.”
The tips of his long fingers slowly stroked the rim of the teacup.
“I accepted it.”
Isn't that right?
As if to ask a question, Bjorn tilted his head. His hair, which had been carelessly swept back, fell in his wake. The woman simply bit her lip, unable to offer any rebuttal.
Bjorn stood up from the table, leaving the woman with a flushed face. Smoke rose from the cigar he had tossed into the ashtray, dissipating on the wind that passed through the window.
“Just a moment!”
The woman called out to him, almost screaming. Bjorn stopped walking and answered with a glance over his shoulder.
“Is that all you have to say to me?”
The Perez family's daughter now wore an expression bordering on tears. Her face was still beautiful, but it didn't evoke any particular emotion.
Bjorn slowly turned to his former lover, who wasn't bad at all. He bowed politely, with the utmost courtesy. It was a dignified greeting, completely out of place with his loosely buttoned gown.
“I hope you become a wonderful Countess.”
The lips, which had a seemingly gentle smile, shone red in the sunlight.
Leaving the half-struck woman behind, Bjorn left the drawing room. Madame Fitz, who had been standing guard outside the door, followed him like a shadow.
“I trust you’re not trying to put me to sleep by singing me a lullaby.”
The corners of Bjorn's lips curved gently as he saw Mrs. Fitz following him to the bedroom door.
“I can certainly do so if Your Highness wishes, but unfortunately, it seems difficult right now.”
Madame Fitz, as always, returned the joke with a stern demeanor. She had been the Crown Prince's nanny, but now she was in charge of the household at Schwerin Palace. Even as a gray-haired old woman, her stern demeanor remained unchanged.
“You must leave for the train station soon.”
"Train station?"
“Her Majesty the Queen will arrive soon.”
“Ah, it was today.”
Only then did Bjorn remember the schedule. His mother was visiting Schwerin, having been invited to a charity party at the Royal Hospital. Of course, it was his job to escort the Queen.
"Yes."
Bjorn accepted the given task with a slight nod.
“Let’s get ready.”
***
As the train passed through several cities, it began to become increasingly crowded with passengers. Even the compartment where Erna had been alone was soon full.
Erna, pressed against the window, gazed intently at the passing scenery with a mixture of curiosity and anxiety. Countless pedestrians and carriages meandered along the densely packed buildings, and the spiderweb-like roads weaved between them. Everything was so complex and dazzling, it felt like her eyes were spinning.
Still, since she knows the address, she can find it easily.
Suppressing her anxiety, Erna tried to console herself. After all, it was the city where she was born and raised, so there was no need to be overly fearful. Even though she hadn't lived there for even five years, it was still home.
While Erna was once again steeling her resolve, the train arrived at its final destination, Schwerin Central Station, and stopped.
Erna hurriedly packed her bags and left the cabin, blending in with the other passengers. With each powerful step, the ribbon on her hat, pulled tightly under her chin, and her neatly braided hair swayed. But that confident air didn't last long.
Erna didn't remember much about what happened after she went out into the hallway.
After being tossed and shoved back and forth, she finally got off the train. Then, with a sudden awakening, she found herself standing on the platform. The sheer number of people and the deafening noise overwhelmed Erna. She struggled to escape, but the more she tried, the further she was pushed away from the exit.
“There he is! He’s coming!”
Someone shouted loudly, and the eyes of everyone on the platform turned in one direction. Erna, who had nearly dropped her trunk and was now holding it, also turned her head in that direction.
Almost simultaneously, she realized she was at the head of a crowd of onlookers and spotted a tall man walking towards her from the other side.
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