30. Let's make a deal.
A woman from the past and a woman from the present. The whispers of fortune-tellers, trying to guess whose hand the Prince would take, mingled with the refreshing sound of the fountain's gushing water.
But Erna, flustered by the torrent of criticism, failed to notice. It felt like she'd made a huge mistake, but she had no idea what the problem was, leaving her in a state of utter confusion.
Is it social etiquette not to refuse an invitation from a lady of high status?
But Erna had never seen such a passage in any etiquette book. Isn't it deceptively rude for someone who's leaving in a week to falsely promise to attend a meeting ten days later? At least, that's what Erna knew.
So, was the tone and attitude rude?
She couldn't give a proper reason, so she figured maybe that was the case. But she couldn't say she couldn't see the play because she was running away from her father in a week.
Erna, feeling lost, opened her mouth, determined to apologize once more. At that moment, a dark shadow descended over her head.
"Ah..."
Erna, raising her head in surprise, let out a small gasp without realizing it. Prince Bjorn. He was undoubtedly there, smiling down at her. She instinctively stepped back, but Bjorn's grab for her arm was a little quicker.
“Are you done talking with Miss Hardy now?”
Bjorn, with one arm wrapped around Erna, questioned the Princess. His demeanor was casual and polite, as if nothing had happened.
"... Yes."
Gladys finally managed a labored answer after a long time. Her azure eyes, filled with desperate pleas, were brimming with tears.
'Don't cry, Princess.'
On the day he notified her of the divorce, he looked down at Gladys, who was crying like a child, and calmly ordered her.
'Shouldn't you have that much shame?'
Gladys finally stopped crying after hearing those quiet words.
Bjorn stared at Gladys with the same gaze he had that day, when he'd seen his wife croaking as if strangled. Fortunately, Gladys, seemingly recalling the same memory, managed to suppress her tears.
“Then I will take Miss Hardy with me.”
Looking at his ex-wife, who had managed to maintain a modicum of decency, Bjorn politely informed her. Erna kept flailing her body, trying to escape, but he was able to subdue her feeble resistance with just one arm.
“Let's go.”
Bjorn lowered his gaze from the Princess and faced Erna. She stared at him with a stubborn expression, as if she wouldn't budge.
“Don’t be so stubborn, Miss Hardy.”
Bjorn bowed deeply and whispered in Erna's ear. The sound of the surprised ladies' laughter only added to the amusement of the situation.
“I am talking to Princess Gladys.”
Erna whispered, her body trembling and biting.
“Well, I think the Princess might think differently.”
Bjorn nodded toward Gladys. Erna looked over, a look of bewilderment crossing her face. Gladys was blushing, desperately trying to hold back tears. She didn't look like she could continue a conversation.
"But..."
“I think the best option for Miss Hardy right now is me.”
Bjorn lowered his gaze to look at the ladies who were displaying sharp criticism and hostility, then turned back to face Erna.
“Isn’t that so?”
Erna, perhaps finally realizing the situation she was in, began to become visibly agitated. It seemed as if she hadn't anticipated this situation at all. Gladys remained speechless, simply staring at the two.
“Well, that’s all. Have a nice time, Princess.”
After leaving a polite greeting, Bjorn escorted Erna, who was at a loss as to what to do, and turned around. The onlookers, all silent, stepped back, making way for them.
There was only one conclusion shr could draw as she watched the two people leaving with such affectionate expressions, like lovers.
The current woman has won, and by a landslide.
A water channel, flowing from the fountain, ran through the garden and down to the riverbank.
Bjorn and Erna walked together along the long canal-side promenade. Decorated with flower arches and lanterns, the path created a dreamlike, beautiful scene at night.
Bjorn stopped at the end of the path that bordered the river. Erna's face remained blank, as if she had lost her mind.
“Miss Hardy.”
When he called her name to wake her up, Erna finally raised her head and looked at him.
“Have I done anything wrong to the Princess?”
Erna's voice, as she asked cautiously, trembled slightly. Her eyes, filled with deep thought, were equally so.
“You confronted Gladys without any preparation?”
Bjorn, who had been staring blankly at the innocent woman without a plan, let out a new, absurd laugh. It was the same laugh that had escaped him the moment he heard Peter's news.
“I'm going to fight back? That’s impossible!”
"You refused the Princess's invitation, and right in front of Gladys."
"I declined the invitation to perform at a charity play, but I didn't mean anything bad by it! How could I do something like that?"
As she squinted, Erna's eyes became even darker blue.
“Is it against etiquette here to decline an invitation from someone of high status?”
"It's not a set rule, but considering Gladys's status, it's probably a sort of unwritten rule. To reject that Princess is like making enemies of all the ladies of high society."
“Do you think my rejection was taken in that way?”
"Maybe."
Erna, who had been listening to his answer with desperate eyes, lowered her head with a sigh of despair. The light from the glass lamp hanging from the tree branch cast a shadow on her long eyelashes, gently flickering over her reddened lower eyelids.
"I simply declined the offer because I couldn't attend the performance. Seriously."
The woman seemed desperate to prove her innocence at all costs. Her attitude piqued Bjorn's interest.
"Why?"
Looking at the woman's face, which had become so pale that even the warm-toned light could not hide it, Bjorn asked calmly.
“Is there a prior engagement that takes priority over the Princess’s invitation?”
"That..."
Erna, who had been hesitating, avoided eye contact and trailed off.
She knew all too well that she had to keep her secret, but she desperately wanted to prove her innocence to even one person. Especially since that one person was Prince Bjorn.
There were unpleasant moments, but she had more fond memories than unpleasant ones. She didn't want to be remembered as a rude and undignified lady by such a Prince. That was the bare minimum of pride Erna wanted to maintain. Above all, didn't she still have a debt to repay?
“Actually, Prince, I’m leaving Schwerin in a week.”
After much deliberation, Erna confessed her secret.
She felt like she could trust him.
Perhaps it was an overly complacent judgment, considering what had happened to her because she had trusted her father so carelessly, but at least she was confident that this man would not harm her.
“I’m going back to Buford. To be with my family.”
Erna held her breath for a moment and studied Bjorn. Aside from his narrowed eyes, his face showed no noticeable change. His somewhat indifferent reaction dispelled Erna's last remaining guard.
“If I said I would attend the meeting in ten days, that would be a lie, so I didn’t want to do that.”
“Why didn’t you tell Gladys that, too?”
“That can’t be!”
Erna lowered her voice to a whisper and looked around.
Young gentlemen and ladies were now heading toward the dock in small groups. The fireworks display, the highlight of any summer festival, seemed about to begin. They glanced at them and whispered, but thankfully, no one came close enough to overhear.
“That’s... a secret.”
"Secret?"
"Yes."
Erna nodded slightly, her cheeks now as red as a ripe apple.
"I plan to leave as quietly as possible. So, you must keep this a secret."
“Why? Are you planning on running away in the middle of the night?”
Erna flinched and swallowed dryly at Bjorn's question, which was uttered with laughter. Her eyes, once again darting around, revealed a hint of impatience that couldn't be hidden.
Bjorn, who had been staring blankly at Erna, who seemed determined to run away, finally burst out laughing. He thought she was all in on her father's wedding business, but she really was just a naive, naive country girl. No. It seems a bit of a stretch to call her naive, though, to think that running away in the middle of the night was the only conclusion she reached after realizing her situation.
The confusion brought on by a woman who was clearly neither a witch nor a fawn, a woman whose identity was impossible to define, unexpectedly brought with it considerable pleasure. Thinking of Viscount Hardy, dreaming of selling his daughter to make a comeback, the old men eyeing the beautiful property, the audience ready to tear down this farcical marriage, the world suddenly seemed beautiful.
As the darkness deepened, the light grew brighter, and Bjorn continued to laugh heartily for a long time. He felt the eyes of the surprised onlookers turn to him, but he paid no attention. Until the laughter subsided, Bjorn's gaze remained fixed solely on Erna, who was struggling before him. At first glance, she seemed a timid coward, but upon closer inspection, she was a bold and charming woman.
“Why are you telling me such a big secret?”
Bjorn looked down at the woman with a lingering smile. Blue eyes, red lips, and skin so pale that blood vessels were visible. A small face, each with its own vivid contrast, was captured within those still, silent eyes.
“What if I mess up Miss Hardy’s plans?”
Bjorn's gaze, which had been examining the few strands of soft brown hair that flowed down the nape of her neck, stopped again on Erna's round eyes.
“I know the Prince wouldn’t do that.”
“Do you know? Miss Hardy, me?”
Even as he questioned her mischievously, traces of the boisterous laughter from earlier lingered on Bjorn's lips. Looking at him with eyes so absurdly innocent, the woman nodded without hesitation.
It seems that blind faith is a family tradition.
Even as he ruminates cynically, Bjorn's gaze remains fixed on the woman. Erna, now looking gravely solemn, begins to speak, the shadow of her oversized hat suddenly becoming irritating.
“Even after leaving Schwerin, I will never forget the debt I owe you, Prince, and I will repay it.”
“Debt? Oh, that.”
Bjorn chuckled, remembering the trophy he'd completely forgotten about. It felt like he'd consumed a season's worth of laughter in a single day.
"Don't worry about that. I promise you, on the honor of the Baden family, that I will repay you."
Baden again. The woman was acting as if that was her name.
Although unfamiliar, the name was at least worth more than Hardy, so Bjorn readily agreed. The woman's ambitious plan to sell the harmony to repay the gold seemed to be working, even after she had decided on a reckless escape.
A gentle river breeze blew between the two, who gazed at each other silently. Bjorn turned his head, following the scent of water and the boisterous laughter that wafted from the breeze. Boats carrying the successful couples drifted leisurely across the river. It was time for the match. It was time to end this game.
“Would you like to pay off that debt?”
Bjorn faced the woman with a relaxed expression.
"It's just too much to run away and carry debt. Come to think of it, what happened that night was my fault for being rude. It's a bit harsh to place the blame solely on Miss Hardy."
"But..."
“Let’s make a deal.”
Bjorn suggested with a most benevolent smile.
“Please grant me the honor of enjoying the night view of the Abbey River with you.”
He extended his hand to Erna, who was looking puzzled, with polite courtesy.
"If you do that, I'll forgive you of your debt. How about that, Miss Hardy?"
A woman from the past and a woman from the present. The whispers of fortune-tellers, trying to guess whose hand the Prince would take, mingled with the refreshing sound of the fountain's gushing water.
But Erna, flustered by the torrent of criticism, failed to notice. It felt like she'd made a huge mistake, but she had no idea what the problem was, leaving her in a state of utter confusion.
Is it social etiquette not to refuse an invitation from a lady of high status?
But Erna had never seen such a passage in any etiquette book. Isn't it deceptively rude for someone who's leaving in a week to falsely promise to attend a meeting ten days later? At least, that's what Erna knew.
So, was the tone and attitude rude?
She couldn't give a proper reason, so she figured maybe that was the case. But she couldn't say she couldn't see the play because she was running away from her father in a week.
Erna, feeling lost, opened her mouth, determined to apologize once more. At that moment, a dark shadow descended over her head.
"Ah..."
Erna, raising her head in surprise, let out a small gasp without realizing it. Prince Bjorn. He was undoubtedly there, smiling down at her. She instinctively stepped back, but Bjorn's grab for her arm was a little quicker.
“Are you done talking with Miss Hardy now?”
Bjorn, with one arm wrapped around Erna, questioned the Princess. His demeanor was casual and polite, as if nothing had happened.
"... Yes."
Gladys finally managed a labored answer after a long time. Her azure eyes, filled with desperate pleas, were brimming with tears.
'Don't cry, Princess.'
On the day he notified her of the divorce, he looked down at Gladys, who was crying like a child, and calmly ordered her.
'Shouldn't you have that much shame?'
Gladys finally stopped crying after hearing those quiet words.
Bjorn stared at Gladys with the same gaze he had that day, when he'd seen his wife croaking as if strangled. Fortunately, Gladys, seemingly recalling the same memory, managed to suppress her tears.
“Then I will take Miss Hardy with me.”
Looking at his ex-wife, who had managed to maintain a modicum of decency, Bjorn politely informed her. Erna kept flailing her body, trying to escape, but he was able to subdue her feeble resistance with just one arm.
“Let's go.”
Bjorn lowered his gaze from the Princess and faced Erna. She stared at him with a stubborn expression, as if she wouldn't budge.
“Don’t be so stubborn, Miss Hardy.”
Bjorn bowed deeply and whispered in Erna's ear. The sound of the surprised ladies' laughter only added to the amusement of the situation.
“I am talking to Princess Gladys.”
Erna whispered, her body trembling and biting.
“Well, I think the Princess might think differently.”
Bjorn nodded toward Gladys. Erna looked over, a look of bewilderment crossing her face. Gladys was blushing, desperately trying to hold back tears. She didn't look like she could continue a conversation.
"But..."
“I think the best option for Miss Hardy right now is me.”
Bjorn lowered his gaze to look at the ladies who were displaying sharp criticism and hostility, then turned back to face Erna.
“Isn’t that so?”
Erna, perhaps finally realizing the situation she was in, began to become visibly agitated. It seemed as if she hadn't anticipated this situation at all. Gladys remained speechless, simply staring at the two.
“Well, that’s all. Have a nice time, Princess.”
After leaving a polite greeting, Bjorn escorted Erna, who was at a loss as to what to do, and turned around. The onlookers, all silent, stepped back, making way for them.
There was only one conclusion shr could draw as she watched the two people leaving with such affectionate expressions, like lovers.
The current woman has won, and by a landslide.
***
A water channel, flowing from the fountain, ran through the garden and down to the riverbank.
Bjorn and Erna walked together along the long canal-side promenade. Decorated with flower arches and lanterns, the path created a dreamlike, beautiful scene at night.
Bjorn stopped at the end of the path that bordered the river. Erna's face remained blank, as if she had lost her mind.
“Miss Hardy.”
When he called her name to wake her up, Erna finally raised her head and looked at him.
“Have I done anything wrong to the Princess?”
Erna's voice, as she asked cautiously, trembled slightly. Her eyes, filled with deep thought, were equally so.
“You confronted Gladys without any preparation?”
Bjorn, who had been staring blankly at the innocent woman without a plan, let out a new, absurd laugh. It was the same laugh that had escaped him the moment he heard Peter's news.
“I'm going to fight back? That’s impossible!”
"You refused the Princess's invitation, and right in front of Gladys."
"I declined the invitation to perform at a charity play, but I didn't mean anything bad by it! How could I do something like that?"
As she squinted, Erna's eyes became even darker blue.
“Is it against etiquette here to decline an invitation from someone of high status?”
"It's not a set rule, but considering Gladys's status, it's probably a sort of unwritten rule. To reject that Princess is like making enemies of all the ladies of high society."
“Do you think my rejection was taken in that way?”
"Maybe."
Erna, who had been listening to his answer with desperate eyes, lowered her head with a sigh of despair. The light from the glass lamp hanging from the tree branch cast a shadow on her long eyelashes, gently flickering over her reddened lower eyelids.
"I simply declined the offer because I couldn't attend the performance. Seriously."
The woman seemed desperate to prove her innocence at all costs. Her attitude piqued Bjorn's interest.
"Why?"
Looking at the woman's face, which had become so pale that even the warm-toned light could not hide it, Bjorn asked calmly.
“Is there a prior engagement that takes priority over the Princess’s invitation?”
"That..."
Erna, who had been hesitating, avoided eye contact and trailed off.
She knew all too well that she had to keep her secret, but she desperately wanted to prove her innocence to even one person. Especially since that one person was Prince Bjorn.
There were unpleasant moments, but she had more fond memories than unpleasant ones. She didn't want to be remembered as a rude and undignified lady by such a Prince. That was the bare minimum of pride Erna wanted to maintain. Above all, didn't she still have a debt to repay?
“Actually, Prince, I’m leaving Schwerin in a week.”
After much deliberation, Erna confessed her secret.
She felt like she could trust him.
Perhaps it was an overly complacent judgment, considering what had happened to her because she had trusted her father so carelessly, but at least she was confident that this man would not harm her.
“I’m going back to Buford. To be with my family.”
Erna held her breath for a moment and studied Bjorn. Aside from his narrowed eyes, his face showed no noticeable change. His somewhat indifferent reaction dispelled Erna's last remaining guard.
“If I said I would attend the meeting in ten days, that would be a lie, so I didn’t want to do that.”
“Why didn’t you tell Gladys that, too?”
“That can’t be!”
Erna lowered her voice to a whisper and looked around.
Young gentlemen and ladies were now heading toward the dock in small groups. The fireworks display, the highlight of any summer festival, seemed about to begin. They glanced at them and whispered, but thankfully, no one came close enough to overhear.
“That’s... a secret.”
"Secret?"
"Yes."
Erna nodded slightly, her cheeks now as red as a ripe apple.
"I plan to leave as quietly as possible. So, you must keep this a secret."
“Why? Are you planning on running away in the middle of the night?”
Erna flinched and swallowed dryly at Bjorn's question, which was uttered with laughter. Her eyes, once again darting around, revealed a hint of impatience that couldn't be hidden.
Bjorn, who had been staring blankly at Erna, who seemed determined to run away, finally burst out laughing. He thought she was all in on her father's wedding business, but she really was just a naive, naive country girl. No. It seems a bit of a stretch to call her naive, though, to think that running away in the middle of the night was the only conclusion she reached after realizing her situation.
The confusion brought on by a woman who was clearly neither a witch nor a fawn, a woman whose identity was impossible to define, unexpectedly brought with it considerable pleasure. Thinking of Viscount Hardy, dreaming of selling his daughter to make a comeback, the old men eyeing the beautiful property, the audience ready to tear down this farcical marriage, the world suddenly seemed beautiful.
As the darkness deepened, the light grew brighter, and Bjorn continued to laugh heartily for a long time. He felt the eyes of the surprised onlookers turn to him, but he paid no attention. Until the laughter subsided, Bjorn's gaze remained fixed solely on Erna, who was struggling before him. At first glance, she seemed a timid coward, but upon closer inspection, she was a bold and charming woman.
“Why are you telling me such a big secret?”
Bjorn looked down at the woman with a lingering smile. Blue eyes, red lips, and skin so pale that blood vessels were visible. A small face, each with its own vivid contrast, was captured within those still, silent eyes.
“What if I mess up Miss Hardy’s plans?”
Bjorn's gaze, which had been examining the few strands of soft brown hair that flowed down the nape of her neck, stopped again on Erna's round eyes.
“I know the Prince wouldn’t do that.”
“Do you know? Miss Hardy, me?”
Even as he questioned her mischievously, traces of the boisterous laughter from earlier lingered on Bjorn's lips. Looking at him with eyes so absurdly innocent, the woman nodded without hesitation.
It seems that blind faith is a family tradition.
Even as he ruminates cynically, Bjorn's gaze remains fixed on the woman. Erna, now looking gravely solemn, begins to speak, the shadow of her oversized hat suddenly becoming irritating.
“Even after leaving Schwerin, I will never forget the debt I owe you, Prince, and I will repay it.”
“Debt? Oh, that.”
Bjorn chuckled, remembering the trophy he'd completely forgotten about. It felt like he'd consumed a season's worth of laughter in a single day.
"Don't worry about that. I promise you, on the honor of the Baden family, that I will repay you."
Baden again. The woman was acting as if that was her name.
Although unfamiliar, the name was at least worth more than Hardy, so Bjorn readily agreed. The woman's ambitious plan to sell the harmony to repay the gold seemed to be working, even after she had decided on a reckless escape.
A gentle river breeze blew between the two, who gazed at each other silently. Bjorn turned his head, following the scent of water and the boisterous laughter that wafted from the breeze. Boats carrying the successful couples drifted leisurely across the river. It was time for the match. It was time to end this game.
“Would you like to pay off that debt?”
Bjorn faced the woman with a relaxed expression.
"It's just too much to run away and carry debt. Come to think of it, what happened that night was my fault for being rude. It's a bit harsh to place the blame solely on Miss Hardy."
"But..."
“Let’s make a deal.”
Bjorn suggested with a most benevolent smile.
“Please grant me the honor of enjoying the night view of the Abbey River with you.”
He extended his hand to Erna, who was looking puzzled, with polite courtesy.
"If you do that, I'll forgive you of your debt. How about that, Miss Hardy?"
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