13. White Wolf
A woman's voice calling an unfamiliar name woke Bjorn from his light sleep.
The voice, which had been growing clearer and clearer, vanished the moment he opened his eyes. All that remained were the wind rustling the lush leaves and the sound of water flowing from a small fountain.
Bjorn sighed softly and closed his eyes again, seemingly indifferent. It was then that the woman's voice began to resonate.
“Pavel!”
The woman called his name again in a voice like a small bird chirping clearly.
Pavel.
The sunlight streaming through the leaves, its delicate patterns, flickered across Bjorn's face as he quietly closed his eyes and whispered the name. Meanwhile, a figure approached. It was a woman walking with a remarkably light and brisk pace.
Bjorn opened his eyes with a resigned air. He hadn't slept a wink, having spent the night in the card room and then gone straight to this tedious event. He'd planned to sneak out for a nap before heading back, but it seemed he'd chosen the wrong spot.
As Bjorn pressed hard against his throbbing eyes, the intruder appeared. It was a small woman in a blue dress.
Erna Hardy.
The name suddenly came to mind the moment a woman who had been looking around suddenly slumped down on the bench. She seemed sullen, not yet noticing him lying on the bench opposite her, and stared down at her toes. The shoes peeking out from beneath the hem of her dress were tiny, like a doll's.
Bjorn, still lying on the bench, watched the woman. What had brought her to such a rush? She gasped for breath for a long time. Bjorn's gaze flickered to the rhythm of the swaying ribbon on the front of her dress and her long, flowing brown hair, then rested on her lips, slightly parted as she exhaled. It was at that moment that Erna raised her head.
Erna, who had been staring at Bjorn with wide, startled eyes, let out a belated scream and stood up. Bjorn watched the scene calmly. The woman, having barged into someone else's hideout, was acting as if she had encountered a pervert.
“...I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”
Erna, who had been flustered, managed to squeeze out an apology. The feathers on her hat fluttered as she repeatedly nodded made Bjorn chuckle.
“I’m sorry. I’m truly sorry, Your Highness.”
Erna, trembling and repeating her apology, hurriedly turned around and began to run away. Bjorn, who had been staring at her from behind, sat up with a laugh.
It was amusing, yet also irritating, to see a woman running away at the sight of him. What on earth could possibly make her run away in fear? Strictly speaking, he's the one who's being unilaterally harmed.
Bjorn, who had been giggling while staring at the treetops, finally stood up from the bench. Even as he put on his jacket and adjusted his loosely pulled tie, the snickers still trickling out of him.
Did you come all the way to this remote corner of the garden to enjoy some secret love?
Bjorn buttoned his cufflinks again, repeating the name of the man she had been desperately searching for, the man she had probably arranged to meet here. He even felt a pang of pity as he remembered the fools who believed she was some innocent baby deer.
Paying his respects to those poor men, Bjorn strode forward. It was then that he noticed something lying where the woman had just stood.
Bjorn, his eyes narrowed, slowly approached and picked it up. It was a white lace handkerchief embroidered with a woman's name.
Gladys appeared near the end of the opening ceremony, just as the President of the Royal Academy of Arts was concluding his speech congratulating the emerging artists who had won prizes at the exhibition.
The guests, who were preparing to applaud, had all eyes fixed on Gladys. The King and Queen, along with the Crown Prince, who were seated at the head of the table, immediately recognized the latecomer. While they exchanged somewhat awkward glances, Gladys quietly entered the room. Even as they belatedly applauded the director of the arts, the guests' eyes remained fixed on Gladys.
Even amidst the intense attention, Gladys maintained a composed demeanor. Her gaze occasionally wavered, but even then, her posture, her gait, and her faint smile never wavered. It was a habit ingrained in her body, a habit born from years spent as a Princess of a nation, one she'd learned without much effort.
The guests watched Princess Gladys bow respectfully to the King and Queen with a mixture of admiration and regret. They were now free to explore the exhibition, but no one left the hall without a glimpse of the fascinating exhibit.
"She's still beautiful. Her graceful figure is beyond words. I heard she even visited the Grand Duke's castle. Wouldn't you hate your husband for committing such a crime?"
"But you were once a couple. You even had a child. How could it be easy to cut off your heart?"
"If only such a tragedy hadn't happened, Princess Gladys would have undoubtedly been as wonderful a Queen as Her Majesty the Queen. The more I think about it, the more I can't understand the Grand Duke. Why on earth would he commit such a heinous act, leaving behind such a wife, and even losing his position as Crown Prince?"
The rapid, low whispers mingled with the chamber music the orchestra had begun to play. Erna stood quietly beside a palm tree in a corner, observing where everyone's attention was drawn. The Princess, familiar from the photographs in the newspapers and magazines Lisa had given her, was far more elegant and beautiful than she had imagined.
How could you commit adultery with a wife like that?
Erna frowned involuntarily as she remembered the man lying on the stone bench in the garden. Fortunately, the unpleasant memory didn't last long. Pavel. It was thanks to the name that suddenly came to mind.
It was clearly Pavel...
The back of the man she'd chased after frantically, but ultimately lost, flashed before her eyes. She couldn't have mistaken him. He was her friend, someone she'd known for over ten years, someone she'd considered family.
Erna cautiously looked around. Her heart began to pound with the hope that she might meet Pavel here. But it didn't take long for that excitement to turn to fear.
As she felt the glances of the people peeking at her, her breath caught in her throat. Erna clasped her trembling hands together and stood close to a palm tree taller than her. The shadow of its large leaves fell upon her.
Not a person.
Erna pondered the absurd advice Countess Meyer had offered. The slender young ladies were like raccoons in the forest. The sullen old gentleman was like an angry grouse. The lady in the deep green dress and bright red ribbon was like a fruit-bearing yew tree.
That absurd fantasy unexpectedly brought her a great sense of relief. Although she still trembled and broke out in a cold sweat, she managed to avoid the pain that would make it impossible to breathe.
Thanks to this, Erna was finally able to catch her breath, and the crowd began to stir again. Turning their gaze, they saw Prince Bjorn standing at the entrance to the hall. Princess Gladys, who had been exchanging greetings with the Crown Prince, also spotted him shortly after.
Prince Bjorn, who had been staring at the Princess with narrowed eyes, paused for a moment before stepping into the hall. Erna watched him, becoming one of the breathless onlookers.
Wolf.
Erna, who was watching the Prince leisurely crossing the hall with unhurried steps, unconsciously thought.
Yes, he certainly reminded her of that elegant beast.
A large and beautiful white wolf like the emblem of the Dniester royal family.
Bjorn looked straight at Gladys and walked slowly.
It wasn't difficult to grasp the situation and Gladys's intentions. He thought he'd understood if he had just left it at that level, but he was probably overly complacent.
Still so obvious and typical.
Even amidst her nervousness, Gladys's glimpse of anticipation made him smile. Her words that her return to Letzen wasn't solely King Lars's will seemed genuine.
True, she was a Princess who never lied. Through her, Bjorn learned that truths are more vile and irresponsible than lies.
Bjorn paused in the center of the hall, carefully examining his father and mother's worried gazes and Leonid's frozen face. Sunlight streaming through the floor-to-ceiling windows and the dazzling light of the chandelier enveloped him as he stood upright.
It was a fairly fair deal, and their relationship was resolved cleanly.
That view remained unchanged. But if Gladys were to start a new chapter, things would be different. Bjorn had no intention of taking any losses, especially if it were due to Gladys Hartford. That's when she caught his eye.
Bjorn turned his gaze to Erna, who was hiding beside the palm tree. The woman's handkerchief in his jacket pocket came to mind, and his hardened lips softened.
When on earth is this enemy handkerchief?
That woman's rhetoric was overly blatant. Seeing her so easily commit such embarrassing acts, it seemed that Miss Hardy was just as predictable and typical as the Princess.
If that's the case, there's no pack as efficient as that woman.
With a clear conclusion reached, Bjorn turned without hesitation. As he approached the Princess, he suddenly veered off in the wrong direction, causing a stir throughout the place. Erna was no exception. Bjorn leisurely closed the gap between himself and the woman, who was taking meaningless steps backward.
Even in a gambling table, or even in a game played by Gladys, there was no reason to hesitate if Erna had the winning hand. She was someone with whom he could easily and cleanly negotiate, giving and receiving.
The starting point is this exhibition today, and the decisive day is the day of the rowing competition.
Bjorn carefully recalled the details of the bet he had vaguely heard, and closed the gap with each last step.
The rowing competition took place every summer on the longest day of the year. And on that day, a festival celebrating summer was held throughout Letzen. It was a grand and splendid event, arguably the highlight of the summer social season.
The highlight of the Schwerin Summer Festival was the fireworks display on the Abbey River that night, enjoyed by boaters. Young couples, believing in the childish belief that watching fireworks together on a boat would bring about love, filled the entire city's boats that night.
That very day, the bet was that whoever boarded the ship with Erna would win the prize. He thought it was a bit of a sham, and he still feels that way, but no matter what, once he took the bet, he had to win.
The rumor that she had been courted by a Prince would drive up her price, which was a good thing for her. After all, wasn't that what her chaperone was after in the first place? With more and more bidders eager to compete, she might just land a better groom than someone as old as her grandfather.
“You are here, Young Lady.”
Bjorn looked down at the woman with a feigned affectionate gaze and began to speak. His voice was powerful, as if he were considering the audience. Erna, standing in his shadow, blinked her large eyes, at a loss.
“You left this in the garden.”
Bowing his head deeply and meeting the woman's eyes, Bjorn deliberately and slowly held out the handkerchief.
A woman's voice calling an unfamiliar name woke Bjorn from his light sleep.
The voice, which had been growing clearer and clearer, vanished the moment he opened his eyes. All that remained were the wind rustling the lush leaves and the sound of water flowing from a small fountain.
Bjorn sighed softly and closed his eyes again, seemingly indifferent. It was then that the woman's voice began to resonate.
“Pavel!”
The woman called his name again in a voice like a small bird chirping clearly.
Pavel.
The sunlight streaming through the leaves, its delicate patterns, flickered across Bjorn's face as he quietly closed his eyes and whispered the name. Meanwhile, a figure approached. It was a woman walking with a remarkably light and brisk pace.
Bjorn opened his eyes with a resigned air. He hadn't slept a wink, having spent the night in the card room and then gone straight to this tedious event. He'd planned to sneak out for a nap before heading back, but it seemed he'd chosen the wrong spot.
As Bjorn pressed hard against his throbbing eyes, the intruder appeared. It was a small woman in a blue dress.
Erna Hardy.
The name suddenly came to mind the moment a woman who had been looking around suddenly slumped down on the bench. She seemed sullen, not yet noticing him lying on the bench opposite her, and stared down at her toes. The shoes peeking out from beneath the hem of her dress were tiny, like a doll's.
Bjorn, still lying on the bench, watched the woman. What had brought her to such a rush? She gasped for breath for a long time. Bjorn's gaze flickered to the rhythm of the swaying ribbon on the front of her dress and her long, flowing brown hair, then rested on her lips, slightly parted as she exhaled. It was at that moment that Erna raised her head.
Erna, who had been staring at Bjorn with wide, startled eyes, let out a belated scream and stood up. Bjorn watched the scene calmly. The woman, having barged into someone else's hideout, was acting as if she had encountered a pervert.
“...I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”
Erna, who had been flustered, managed to squeeze out an apology. The feathers on her hat fluttered as she repeatedly nodded made Bjorn chuckle.
“I’m sorry. I’m truly sorry, Your Highness.”
Erna, trembling and repeating her apology, hurriedly turned around and began to run away. Bjorn, who had been staring at her from behind, sat up with a laugh.
It was amusing, yet also irritating, to see a woman running away at the sight of him. What on earth could possibly make her run away in fear? Strictly speaking, he's the one who's being unilaterally harmed.
Bjorn, who had been giggling while staring at the treetops, finally stood up from the bench. Even as he put on his jacket and adjusted his loosely pulled tie, the snickers still trickling out of him.
Did you come all the way to this remote corner of the garden to enjoy some secret love?
Bjorn buttoned his cufflinks again, repeating the name of the man she had been desperately searching for, the man she had probably arranged to meet here. He even felt a pang of pity as he remembered the fools who believed she was some innocent baby deer.
Paying his respects to those poor men, Bjorn strode forward. It was then that he noticed something lying where the woman had just stood.
Bjorn, his eyes narrowed, slowly approached and picked it up. It was a white lace handkerchief embroidered with a woman's name.
***
Gladys appeared near the end of the opening ceremony, just as the President of the Royal Academy of Arts was concluding his speech congratulating the emerging artists who had won prizes at the exhibition.
The guests, who were preparing to applaud, had all eyes fixed on Gladys. The King and Queen, along with the Crown Prince, who were seated at the head of the table, immediately recognized the latecomer. While they exchanged somewhat awkward glances, Gladys quietly entered the room. Even as they belatedly applauded the director of the arts, the guests' eyes remained fixed on Gladys.
Even amidst the intense attention, Gladys maintained a composed demeanor. Her gaze occasionally wavered, but even then, her posture, her gait, and her faint smile never wavered. It was a habit ingrained in her body, a habit born from years spent as a Princess of a nation, one she'd learned without much effort.
The guests watched Princess Gladys bow respectfully to the King and Queen with a mixture of admiration and regret. They were now free to explore the exhibition, but no one left the hall without a glimpse of the fascinating exhibit.
"She's still beautiful. Her graceful figure is beyond words. I heard she even visited the Grand Duke's castle. Wouldn't you hate your husband for committing such a crime?"
"But you were once a couple. You even had a child. How could it be easy to cut off your heart?"
"If only such a tragedy hadn't happened, Princess Gladys would have undoubtedly been as wonderful a Queen as Her Majesty the Queen. The more I think about it, the more I can't understand the Grand Duke. Why on earth would he commit such a heinous act, leaving behind such a wife, and even losing his position as Crown Prince?"
The rapid, low whispers mingled with the chamber music the orchestra had begun to play. Erna stood quietly beside a palm tree in a corner, observing where everyone's attention was drawn. The Princess, familiar from the photographs in the newspapers and magazines Lisa had given her, was far more elegant and beautiful than she had imagined.
How could you commit adultery with a wife like that?
Erna frowned involuntarily as she remembered the man lying on the stone bench in the garden. Fortunately, the unpleasant memory didn't last long. Pavel. It was thanks to the name that suddenly came to mind.
It was clearly Pavel...
The back of the man she'd chased after frantically, but ultimately lost, flashed before her eyes. She couldn't have mistaken him. He was her friend, someone she'd known for over ten years, someone she'd considered family.
Erna cautiously looked around. Her heart began to pound with the hope that she might meet Pavel here. But it didn't take long for that excitement to turn to fear.
As she felt the glances of the people peeking at her, her breath caught in her throat. Erna clasped her trembling hands together and stood close to a palm tree taller than her. The shadow of its large leaves fell upon her.
Not a person.
Erna pondered the absurd advice Countess Meyer had offered. The slender young ladies were like raccoons in the forest. The sullen old gentleman was like an angry grouse. The lady in the deep green dress and bright red ribbon was like a fruit-bearing yew tree.
That absurd fantasy unexpectedly brought her a great sense of relief. Although she still trembled and broke out in a cold sweat, she managed to avoid the pain that would make it impossible to breathe.
Thanks to this, Erna was finally able to catch her breath, and the crowd began to stir again. Turning their gaze, they saw Prince Bjorn standing at the entrance to the hall. Princess Gladys, who had been exchanging greetings with the Crown Prince, also spotted him shortly after.
Prince Bjorn, who had been staring at the Princess with narrowed eyes, paused for a moment before stepping into the hall. Erna watched him, becoming one of the breathless onlookers.
Wolf.
Erna, who was watching the Prince leisurely crossing the hall with unhurried steps, unconsciously thought.
Yes, he certainly reminded her of that elegant beast.
A large and beautiful white wolf like the emblem of the Dniester royal family.
***
Bjorn looked straight at Gladys and walked slowly.
It wasn't difficult to grasp the situation and Gladys's intentions. He thought he'd understood if he had just left it at that level, but he was probably overly complacent.
Still so obvious and typical.
Even amidst her nervousness, Gladys's glimpse of anticipation made him smile. Her words that her return to Letzen wasn't solely King Lars's will seemed genuine.
True, she was a Princess who never lied. Through her, Bjorn learned that truths are more vile and irresponsible than lies.
Bjorn paused in the center of the hall, carefully examining his father and mother's worried gazes and Leonid's frozen face. Sunlight streaming through the floor-to-ceiling windows and the dazzling light of the chandelier enveloped him as he stood upright.
It was a fairly fair deal, and their relationship was resolved cleanly.
That view remained unchanged. But if Gladys were to start a new chapter, things would be different. Bjorn had no intention of taking any losses, especially if it were due to Gladys Hartford. That's when she caught his eye.
Bjorn turned his gaze to Erna, who was hiding beside the palm tree. The woman's handkerchief in his jacket pocket came to mind, and his hardened lips softened.
When on earth is this enemy handkerchief?
That woman's rhetoric was overly blatant. Seeing her so easily commit such embarrassing acts, it seemed that Miss Hardy was just as predictable and typical as the Princess.
If that's the case, there's no pack as efficient as that woman.
With a clear conclusion reached, Bjorn turned without hesitation. As he approached the Princess, he suddenly veered off in the wrong direction, causing a stir throughout the place. Erna was no exception. Bjorn leisurely closed the gap between himself and the woman, who was taking meaningless steps backward.
Even in a gambling table, or even in a game played by Gladys, there was no reason to hesitate if Erna had the winning hand. She was someone with whom he could easily and cleanly negotiate, giving and receiving.
The starting point is this exhibition today, and the decisive day is the day of the rowing competition.
Bjorn carefully recalled the details of the bet he had vaguely heard, and closed the gap with each last step.
The rowing competition took place every summer on the longest day of the year. And on that day, a festival celebrating summer was held throughout Letzen. It was a grand and splendid event, arguably the highlight of the summer social season.
The highlight of the Schwerin Summer Festival was the fireworks display on the Abbey River that night, enjoyed by boaters. Young couples, believing in the childish belief that watching fireworks together on a boat would bring about love, filled the entire city's boats that night.
That very day, the bet was that whoever boarded the ship with Erna would win the prize. He thought it was a bit of a sham, and he still feels that way, but no matter what, once he took the bet, he had to win.
The rumor that she had been courted by a Prince would drive up her price, which was a good thing for her. After all, wasn't that what her chaperone was after in the first place? With more and more bidders eager to compete, she might just land a better groom than someone as old as her grandfather.
“You are here, Young Lady.”
Bjorn looked down at the woman with a feigned affectionate gaze and began to speak. His voice was powerful, as if he were considering the audience. Erna, standing in his shadow, blinked her large eyes, at a loss.
“You left this in the garden.”
Bowing his head deeply and meeting the woman's eyes, Bjorn deliberately and slowly held out the handkerchief.
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