27. At least once
And then, cut and paste.
The flowers blooming from Erna's mechanically moving fingertips were as beautiful today as ever. Lisa's gaze, alternating between the piled-up, completed artificial flowers and Erna's hands, was filled with a mixture of bewilderment and awe.
Erna was calm as if nothing had happened.
Following Viscount Hardy's orders to forbid her from going outside until her wounds healed, she spent her days secluded inside, spending them in silence. She even diligently worked on creating artificial flowers. If it weren't for the occasional moments when she would stare blankly into space, Lisa might have become a little afraid of the young lady.
“I’m sorry, Lisa. I’ve kept you waiting.”
Erna finished her work by packing the final rose arrangement into boxes. It was at least three times the quantity she'd delivered last week.
“I think you’re pushing yourself too hard, Miss.”
Lisa looked at Erna with concern. The wounds from her father's beating had now healed, but her complexion was even more haggard than before, due to her work, which had reduced her sleep.
“It’s okay. If I focus on something like this, I won’t get bored.”
Despite her pale face, Erna smiled brightly.
Lisa, who was looking at the girl's bloodshot eyes, pale cheeks, braided hair, and thread stuck to her apron, awkwardly laughed and muffled the conversation.
After Lisa, carrying a large bundle, left for the department store, a profound silence fell over the bedroom. Erna, having finally cleared her desk, crouched in a chair by the sunlit window, gazing out at the garden. The deepening colors of the greenery and the blooming summer flowers made the passage of the seasons palpable.
Now she just has to endure it for another two weeks.
Erna counted down the days she'd promised Pavel, as if it were a habit. It wouldn't be an exaggeration to say that those numbers were what sustained her life these days.
Shamelessly, she decided to seek Pavel's help. Running away in the middle of the night is never a ladylike act, but there are times in life when exceptions are necessary. It was a new lesson in life, taught to her by her ruthless father.
She was scammed by her scammed father.
As she thought about that fact, she felt a surge of anger again.
Her father had been defrauded of a large sum of money in an investment scam, which had drastically reduced their family's fortunes. He then hatched a plan to sell his daughter into the marriage market to try to salvage his fortunes. This was the truth Erna had uncovered during her time secluded at home. It was a shallow scheme, one she could have discovered long ago, had she been so determined.
The conman deceived her father, and her father deceived her. She was the lowest of the contrary food chain, a crushed fool. Thinking of herself as that very person was so infuriating and humiliating, it was hard to sleep. Thinking of her grandfather, who had called her his disciple and was so proud of his brilliant granddaughter, made her even more so.
Goodbye to the overly naive and complacent Erna Hardy of the past.
Erna, who had risen vigorously as if steeling her resolve, returned to her desk and sat down. Even though she had resolved to flee, she was determined to faithfully fulfill her duties until that day came. For the honor of the Baden family, at least.
But do people here not know what rejection is?
Erna stared at the pile of letters with a puzzled expression. It was hard to understand why they had received so many rejections and yet still sent the same letter so casually.
Most of the letters she's been getting from young gentlemen these days are about a summer festival party on the day of the rowing competition. They ask if she'd like to join them on a boat ride to watch the fireworks.
Lisa said it was a deeply shameful thing for a young lady to not find someone to go boating with that day. She advised her not to simply reject the advances, but Erna ultimately declined them all. She found it difficult to understand the debauchery of the big city, the outrageous act of sailing with a stranger in the middle of the night. She felt it was better to become a shameful lady than to join in. She didn't need to conform to a world she would be parting ways with in two weeks.
Erna continued writing the same reply today. With a thicker pen and larger letters than last time, she expressed a more determined rejection. Lisa returned just as Erna had sealed her final reply.
“Miss! Miss Erna! Miss!”
Lisa opened the door without knocking and came running in frantically.
“A person living in Schwerin Palace. What should I do? What should I do with this?”
“Calm down, Lisa. What’s going on?”
Erna, startled, quickly got up and walked over to Lisa, who was panting and talking nonsense as if she was about to suffocate.
“Maybe so, Miss.”
When Lisa's breathing finally calmed enough for her to continue speaking, she looked at Erna with a sad face.
“Her Majesty the Queen is looking for you!”
Lisa's desperate cries echoed through the quiet bedroom.
The carriage carrying the two Princes left the main gate of Schwerin Palace on a golden-sunlit afternoon. They were visiting the summer residence of their maternal relatives, the Dukes of Arsene. While Leonid had originally planned to leave alone, the Queen insisted on having Bjorn accompany them.
'Think carefully about how much your grandmother loved you, Bjorn.'
She personally walked to the Grand Duke's residence, called her son, who had just woken up, and eagerly lectured him. Bjorn reluctantly accepted her mother's urging because it was unusual.
She was generally generous and gentle, but when things weren't so easy, she showed a stubborn side more than anyone else. Bjorn knew from experience that the wisest course of action was to back down. As his mother had said, Duchess Arsene loved her eldest grandson more than anyone, so he wasn't afraid to endure this level of inconvenience. Although now, he's proving just how passionate love can turn into deep hatred.
“Thanks to you, I won’t have a boring evening.”
Leonid broke the silence in the carriage with a lighthearted joke. Bjorn's face, smiling as if to say, "Let it be," showed no trace of concern.
“But you’ll still feed me dinner, right?”
Duchess Arsene, who had refused to see him for a year after their divorce, finally allowed him to visit in the second year, and since last winter, she has been tolerant enough to allow him to sit at the same table. But only on the condition that they never sit face to face or speak to each other.
“You know it’s because she still loves you so much, right?”
Leonid asked the question with a polite, serious tone. Bjorn glanced at him, as if to ask why he was giving such a pointless sermon. Without answering, he turned his head and stared out the window.
Leonie couldn't ask his grandmother again today if he should tell her the truth. It seemed pointless, since she already knew Bjorn's answer.
Aside from the royal family of Lars, only three people in Letzen knew of this affair: the King, Queen, and Leonid. If Bjorn hadn't vehemently refused to ascend to the Crown Prince's throne, he wouldn't have even told him the truth.
If it were hme.
Every time Leonid pondered such a scenario, he felt a renewed sense of guilt for his twin brother. He could never have acted like Bjorn. Watching Bjorn, he realized for the first time that extreme ruthlessness and responsibility, deep distrust and concern for others, could coexist in one person.
As the carriage began to cross the bridge, Leonid opened the book he had brought.
At the same time, Bjorn turned his gaze toward the granite pillar at the entrance to the bridge. It was where the woman who had waited for him in such absurd and foolish fashion had stood.
'What were you going to do if I didn't come?'
Before parting ways with the woman, Bjorn asked a question with serious question in mind. Waiting indefinitely for someone whose arrival might never be known was beyond his comprehension.
'I was going to come back tomorrow and wait.'
Erna answered naturally, as if it were a natural thing.
'There's only one road connecting the palace and the city, so I thought you'd cross that bridge at least once.'
The explanation, which she added seriously and which was based on her own logic, made Bjorn feel even more frustrated.
Arriving at the stagecoach stop, Erna hurriedly alighted from the carriage. Bjorn didn't bother to stop the woman, who stubbornly refused to see him off. She was so proud of her knowledge of stagecoaching that it felt like some kind of remarkable achievement.
Erna left a quiet greeting and walked away to the other side of the road.
As the carriage pulled away, Bjorn forgot about the incomprehensible woman. It was four days later that the scandal broke out.
The carriage had already reached the middle of the bridge, and Bjorn took his eyes off the passing scenery.
“Who is it?”
Leonid, absentmindedly gazing out the window, frowned and asked. Bjorn, about to fall asleep, narrowed his eyes and glanced across the bridge. A royal carriage was speeding toward her.
Through the window of the carriage passing by, Bjorn saw a brown-haired woman.
Erna.
She was a woman who reminded him of the owner of that name.
The tea table for the Queen's guests was set deep in the garden of the villa.
Isabelle Dniester greeted Erna with a smile. Her demeanor was natural, as if they were simply meeting for a leisurely afternoon chat.
“You can leave now.”
She gave a soft command to the maid who had guided Erna here. The maid bowed her head in agreement, then led the servants who had been waiting at a distance out of the garden. As they left, the silence enveloping the pergola, now adorned with climbing roses, deepened.
Isabelle Dniester looked at Erna, who sat across the table, with deep, calm eyes. The young girl, frozen with tension, was still at a loss, at a loss. It was understandable, having been called in so suddenly, without any explanation.
“Let’s have some tea first, Miss Hardy.”
“Huh? Ah... Yes, Your Majesty. I’m sorry.”
At her suggestion, Erna hurriedly grabbed the teacup. Her hands were shaking so much, she was worried she'd scald herself.
Isabelle Dniester savored the aroma of her tea as she sipped, then began to examine Erna. Perhaps it was her outdated, out-of-style dress and her makeup-free face that made her look quite different from the one she'd encountered at social gatherings.
Two days ago, the servant who had left for Burford with a secret order to investigate everything about Erna Hardy returned. The thick report he submitted detailed Erna's life story. It also included information on the Hardy and Baden families.
A lady named Hardy, but who actually grew up in the Baden family.
That was the conclusion she reached after all this. That was why she had firmly resolved to meet Erna in person. A noble family, albeit in ruins, that had maintained its dignity. A young woman raised in a family with such a reputation might be different from the rumors circulating in high society. A mixture of curiosity and a hint of anticipation filled her with impatience.
“What is your relationship with Bjorn?”
Now that Erna seemed to have found stability, Isabelle Dniester asked her a direct question.
Only then did Erna raise her head to face her properly. The young lady, with her large, beautiful eyes, was such a striking beauty that it was no wonder she instantly captured the attention of society.
"Tell me, Miss Hardy, what exactly happened between you two. You'd better not even think about deceiving me."
And then, cut and paste.
The flowers blooming from Erna's mechanically moving fingertips were as beautiful today as ever. Lisa's gaze, alternating between the piled-up, completed artificial flowers and Erna's hands, was filled with a mixture of bewilderment and awe.
Erna was calm as if nothing had happened.
Following Viscount Hardy's orders to forbid her from going outside until her wounds healed, she spent her days secluded inside, spending them in silence. She even diligently worked on creating artificial flowers. If it weren't for the occasional moments when she would stare blankly into space, Lisa might have become a little afraid of the young lady.
“I’m sorry, Lisa. I’ve kept you waiting.”
Erna finished her work by packing the final rose arrangement into boxes. It was at least three times the quantity she'd delivered last week.
“I think you’re pushing yourself too hard, Miss.”
Lisa looked at Erna with concern. The wounds from her father's beating had now healed, but her complexion was even more haggard than before, due to her work, which had reduced her sleep.
“It’s okay. If I focus on something like this, I won’t get bored.”
Despite her pale face, Erna smiled brightly.
Lisa, who was looking at the girl's bloodshot eyes, pale cheeks, braided hair, and thread stuck to her apron, awkwardly laughed and muffled the conversation.
After Lisa, carrying a large bundle, left for the department store, a profound silence fell over the bedroom. Erna, having finally cleared her desk, crouched in a chair by the sunlit window, gazing out at the garden. The deepening colors of the greenery and the blooming summer flowers made the passage of the seasons palpable.
Now she just has to endure it for another two weeks.
Erna counted down the days she'd promised Pavel, as if it were a habit. It wouldn't be an exaggeration to say that those numbers were what sustained her life these days.
Shamelessly, she decided to seek Pavel's help. Running away in the middle of the night is never a ladylike act, but there are times in life when exceptions are necessary. It was a new lesson in life, taught to her by her ruthless father.
She was scammed by her scammed father.
As she thought about that fact, she felt a surge of anger again.
Her father had been defrauded of a large sum of money in an investment scam, which had drastically reduced their family's fortunes. He then hatched a plan to sell his daughter into the marriage market to try to salvage his fortunes. This was the truth Erna had uncovered during her time secluded at home. It was a shallow scheme, one she could have discovered long ago, had she been so determined.
The conman deceived her father, and her father deceived her. She was the lowest of the contrary food chain, a crushed fool. Thinking of herself as that very person was so infuriating and humiliating, it was hard to sleep. Thinking of her grandfather, who had called her his disciple and was so proud of his brilliant granddaughter, made her even more so.
Goodbye to the overly naive and complacent Erna Hardy of the past.
Erna, who had risen vigorously as if steeling her resolve, returned to her desk and sat down. Even though she had resolved to flee, she was determined to faithfully fulfill her duties until that day came. For the honor of the Baden family, at least.
But do people here not know what rejection is?
Erna stared at the pile of letters with a puzzled expression. It was hard to understand why they had received so many rejections and yet still sent the same letter so casually.
Most of the letters she's been getting from young gentlemen these days are about a summer festival party on the day of the rowing competition. They ask if she'd like to join them on a boat ride to watch the fireworks.
Lisa said it was a deeply shameful thing for a young lady to not find someone to go boating with that day. She advised her not to simply reject the advances, but Erna ultimately declined them all. She found it difficult to understand the debauchery of the big city, the outrageous act of sailing with a stranger in the middle of the night. She felt it was better to become a shameful lady than to join in. She didn't need to conform to a world she would be parting ways with in two weeks.
Erna continued writing the same reply today. With a thicker pen and larger letters than last time, she expressed a more determined rejection. Lisa returned just as Erna had sealed her final reply.
“Miss! Miss Erna! Miss!”
Lisa opened the door without knocking and came running in frantically.
“A person living in Schwerin Palace. What should I do? What should I do with this?”
“Calm down, Lisa. What’s going on?”
Erna, startled, quickly got up and walked over to Lisa, who was panting and talking nonsense as if she was about to suffocate.
“Maybe so, Miss.”
When Lisa's breathing finally calmed enough for her to continue speaking, she looked at Erna with a sad face.
“Her Majesty the Queen is looking for you!”
Lisa's desperate cries echoed through the quiet bedroom.
***
The carriage carrying the two Princes left the main gate of Schwerin Palace on a golden-sunlit afternoon. They were visiting the summer residence of their maternal relatives, the Dukes of Arsene. While Leonid had originally planned to leave alone, the Queen insisted on having Bjorn accompany them.
'Think carefully about how much your grandmother loved you, Bjorn.'
She personally walked to the Grand Duke's residence, called her son, who had just woken up, and eagerly lectured him. Bjorn reluctantly accepted her mother's urging because it was unusual.
She was generally generous and gentle, but when things weren't so easy, she showed a stubborn side more than anyone else. Bjorn knew from experience that the wisest course of action was to back down. As his mother had said, Duchess Arsene loved her eldest grandson more than anyone, so he wasn't afraid to endure this level of inconvenience. Although now, he's proving just how passionate love can turn into deep hatred.
“Thanks to you, I won’t have a boring evening.”
Leonid broke the silence in the carriage with a lighthearted joke. Bjorn's face, smiling as if to say, "Let it be," showed no trace of concern.
“But you’ll still feed me dinner, right?”
Duchess Arsene, who had refused to see him for a year after their divorce, finally allowed him to visit in the second year, and since last winter, she has been tolerant enough to allow him to sit at the same table. But only on the condition that they never sit face to face or speak to each other.
“You know it’s because she still loves you so much, right?”
Leonid asked the question with a polite, serious tone. Bjorn glanced at him, as if to ask why he was giving such a pointless sermon. Without answering, he turned his head and stared out the window.
Leonie couldn't ask his grandmother again today if he should tell her the truth. It seemed pointless, since she already knew Bjorn's answer.
Aside from the royal family of Lars, only three people in Letzen knew of this affair: the King, Queen, and Leonid. If Bjorn hadn't vehemently refused to ascend to the Crown Prince's throne, he wouldn't have even told him the truth.
If it were hme.
Every time Leonid pondered such a scenario, he felt a renewed sense of guilt for his twin brother. He could never have acted like Bjorn. Watching Bjorn, he realized for the first time that extreme ruthlessness and responsibility, deep distrust and concern for others, could coexist in one person.
As the carriage began to cross the bridge, Leonid opened the book he had brought.
At the same time, Bjorn turned his gaze toward the granite pillar at the entrance to the bridge. It was where the woman who had waited for him in such absurd and foolish fashion had stood.
'What were you going to do if I didn't come?'
Before parting ways with the woman, Bjorn asked a question with serious question in mind. Waiting indefinitely for someone whose arrival might never be known was beyond his comprehension.
'I was going to come back tomorrow and wait.'
Erna answered naturally, as if it were a natural thing.
'There's only one road connecting the palace and the city, so I thought you'd cross that bridge at least once.'
The explanation, which she added seriously and which was based on her own logic, made Bjorn feel even more frustrated.
Arriving at the stagecoach stop, Erna hurriedly alighted from the carriage. Bjorn didn't bother to stop the woman, who stubbornly refused to see him off. She was so proud of her knowledge of stagecoaching that it felt like some kind of remarkable achievement.
Erna left a quiet greeting and walked away to the other side of the road.
As the carriage pulled away, Bjorn forgot about the incomprehensible woman. It was four days later that the scandal broke out.
The carriage had already reached the middle of the bridge, and Bjorn took his eyes off the passing scenery.
“Who is it?”
Leonid, absentmindedly gazing out the window, frowned and asked. Bjorn, about to fall asleep, narrowed his eyes and glanced across the bridge. A royal carriage was speeding toward her.
Through the window of the carriage passing by, Bjorn saw a brown-haired woman.
Erna.
She was a woman who reminded him of the owner of that name.
***
The tea table for the Queen's guests was set deep in the garden of the villa.
Isabelle Dniester greeted Erna with a smile. Her demeanor was natural, as if they were simply meeting for a leisurely afternoon chat.
“You can leave now.”
She gave a soft command to the maid who had guided Erna here. The maid bowed her head in agreement, then led the servants who had been waiting at a distance out of the garden. As they left, the silence enveloping the pergola, now adorned with climbing roses, deepened.
Isabelle Dniester looked at Erna, who sat across the table, with deep, calm eyes. The young girl, frozen with tension, was still at a loss, at a loss. It was understandable, having been called in so suddenly, without any explanation.
“Let’s have some tea first, Miss Hardy.”
“Huh? Ah... Yes, Your Majesty. I’m sorry.”
At her suggestion, Erna hurriedly grabbed the teacup. Her hands were shaking so much, she was worried she'd scald herself.
Isabelle Dniester savored the aroma of her tea as she sipped, then began to examine Erna. Perhaps it was her outdated, out-of-style dress and her makeup-free face that made her look quite different from the one she'd encountered at social gatherings.
Two days ago, the servant who had left for Burford with a secret order to investigate everything about Erna Hardy returned. The thick report he submitted detailed Erna's life story. It also included information on the Hardy and Baden families.
A lady named Hardy, but who actually grew up in the Baden family.
That was the conclusion she reached after all this. That was why she had firmly resolved to meet Erna in person. A noble family, albeit in ruins, that had maintained its dignity. A young woman raised in a family with such a reputation might be different from the rumors circulating in high society. A mixture of curiosity and a hint of anticipation filled her with impatience.
“What is your relationship with Bjorn?”
Now that Erna seemed to have found stability, Isabelle Dniester asked her a direct question.
Only then did Erna raise her head to face her properly. The young lady, with her large, beautiful eyes, was such a striking beauty that it was no wonder she instantly captured the attention of society.
"Tell me, Miss Hardy, what exactly happened between you two. You'd better not even think about deceiving me."
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