35. Mia
It was just after five o'clock when Erna passed through Piazza Tara. She wore a wide-brimmed bonnet pulled down low over her head, and a large, hooded cloak over it.
Erna staggered to the fountain, resting her trunk on the railing and taking a moment to catch her breath. The wind and rain were so fierce that she struggled to keep her composure. It was a day when even a short walk left her breathless and shivering.
Just bear with it for a little longer.
Erna muttered to herself, as if trying to convince herself, then grabbed her trunk again and began walking through the pouring rain. The umbrella, already broken at one end, wasn't much help, but she couldn't let it go as a last resort.
Arriving at the empty stagecoach stop, Erna scanned the road anxiously. Fortunately, she didn't have to wait long before a carriage appeared.
'You take after your mother so much that even your uselessness is chilling.'
Before leaving the bedroom, which had become a mess, her father's face, which had been throwing out contemptuous words, flashed through the cold landscape.
'I don't know how spoiled those old folks were, but remember that in this house, if you do something wrong, you will pay a heavy price.'
He clicked his tongue as he looked down at Erna, who lay trembling like a broken doll, and then turned and walked away without a care. Beyond the open door stood the Viscountess, who had come to discipline the servants.
She looked down at Erna with eyes as cold as Viscount Hardy's, then turned away with a sigh of exhaustion. Only then was Lisa able to run to Erna's side.
It was a strange thing.
Lisa was sobbing bitterly, but Erna, who had been beaten, didn't seem particularly sad or hurt. It was okay. It would all be over tomorrow anyway. It seemed to be thanks to the countless repetitions of that spell.
Erna obediently surrendered herself to Lisa's care as she tended to her wounds. She took the medicine she'd brought and went to bed like a good child. She chewed and swallowed every bite of the food brought to her room, knowing she'd have to somehow muster up the energy to leave safely. She didn't want to think about anything else.
As the sound of horse hooves drew closer, Erna pulled the brim of her bonnet down further, hiding her face. The carriage, normally packed, was practically empty.
Erna crouched down in the far corner. The carriage remained stationary for a few more minutes, but there were no more passengers.
Until the carriage, which had started to run through the rain, stopped in the square in front of the central station, Erna did not raise her deeply bowed head even once.
“What on earth is going on?”
Pavel, finding the conductor in the passage between the two carriages, asked anxiously. The train had come to a sudden halt and remained motionless for over ten minutes.
“I’m sorry. I was trying to speak to the passengers anyway.”
The conductor sighed deeply and cleared his throat.
“A rockslide occurred due to heavy rain. It will take some time to clear the blocked rail.”
“How long do you think it will be delayed?”
A deep wrinkle formed between Pavel's eyebrows as he checked the time.
“Well, I’m trying my best to hurry, but I can’t say for sure right now...”
The conductor, vaguely evasive, nodded in greeting and then hurried down the train's corridor. His voice, as he opened each compartment door and relayed the news of the rockslide, mingled with the sound of raindrops hitting the windows.
Pavel, who had been pacing anxiously in the hallway, returned to his room. A middle-aged couple sat across from him, reading a book with a look of resignation on their faces. Through the car window, he could see workers and carts beginning to clear away rocks and dirt, but the torrential rain continued to pour, slowing the pace of the work.
"I give up, young gentleman. This is a section prone to rockfalls. It'll take at least half a day."
The woman, who had been watching Pavel fidgeting, spoke with a smile.
"We're going to the dining car for dinner. Why don't you join us? If we keep waiting like this, we'll miss our meal."
“No, thank you for your kind words, but I’m fine.”
Pavel answered with an embarrassed expression on his face.
After the two departed for the dining car, Pavel was left alone in the six-person cabin. A deepening anxiety, compounded by the silence, began to sharply grate on his nerves. He'd been relieved to catch the train an hour early, but this kind of accident happened. It was maddening.
Pavel watched the slow progress with a sense of listlessness. Even when the couple returned from dinner, the train showed no signs of moving again.
“See? I told you it’s going to take a long time.”
The Madam's words woke Pavel from his half-asleep state. He checked his watch again, startled, and saw that it was already the time he had promised Erna.
“Do you have any important plans?”
The Madam, seeing his desperate face, asked with concern.
"Yes."
Pavel opened his dry lips to answer. It was then that Madam's words, about her frequenting this road, flashed through his mind.
“Madam, is there a village near here?”
"If it's a village, are you looking for a place to stay? It won't be long enough to stay up all night."
“No. That’s not it...”
Pavel glanced out the window with a worried look. Erna was sure to have already arrived at their meeting place. She was the kind of girl who never broke a promise.
"Any town where a stagecoach to Schwerin can pass through will do. If not, any place where I can rent horses will do."
Pavel faced the couple with a determined look on his face.
“Is there a village like that nearby?”
Up to there.
The spell that had been used to calm his mind was no longer effective.
The Grand Duke won again today. Since it was a predicted result, everyone's reaction was indifferent.
If you're going to lose, it's better to lose to Bjorn Dneister.
That saying became a sort of proverb in this club's card room. It was more honorable to lose to an opponent you couldn't beat anyway than to bow to a rabble.
“Oh, are you leaving already?”
Peter's eyes widened as he saw Bjorn rise from the card table. Leaving just as things were about to get interesting. It was uncharacteristic of Bjorn. Especially considering it was a lucky night.
“Should you stay longer?”
“Why? Do you want to lose more money?”
Bjorn smiled, pointing to the chip in front of Peter, which had been noticeably reduced.
A few profanity-laced jokes and laughter erupted as Bjorn straightened his clothes and put on his jacket. As he exited the smoky card room, his vision suddenly cleared.
Erna.
Perhaps that's why a forgotten name suddenly came to mind, Bjorn thought, without thinking much about it. Success or failure. By now, the outcome should have been roughly decided.
“Go to the station.”
Bjorn impulsively ordered the coachman to open the carriage door. He knew it was reckless curiosity, but he didn't pay much attention. The coachman seemed to have a slightly different opinion.
“You mean Schwerin Station? The station where the train stops?”
The coachman asked in surprise, as if he had been told to go to hell.
"You're not planning to take the train, are you, Prince? I've never heard of such an itinerary..."
“No. Just pass the station and go to the palace. That’s it.”
Bjorn explained it as if it were the natural course of action and then climbed into the carriage. The coachman, still unconvinced, obeyed without further questioning.
As the horse began to gallop, the rain grew louder. Bjorn gazed helplessly at the city lights streaming past the wet windowpane.
All he knew about Erna Hardy's midnight escape was that it was today and that the destination was Burford. Without any information about the time, with whom, or how they were to escape, searching for the station would be a waste of time. But the hour wasted on the road wasn't all that bad. In any case, he'd be home much earlier than usual, so he could consider this a decent day, as Mrs. Fitz had so strongly recommended.
Erna.
He whispered the name that is most famous in the social world these days.
Erna. Erna Hardy.
It was a week ago, when the name he had last seen came to mind, as the grand history began to appear across the rainy street.
The woman's eyes were like those of a lost child. Mia, so confused, so lost, so confused, so lost, so lost, that she had even forgotten how to cry.
The eyes were just blank, not particularly appealing or yearning for anything, but why did he feel so miserable, as if he had finally pushed away the hand of a child who was clinging to me and pleading?
Such questions often came to Bjorn, but he never found a suitable answer. This time, it was no different. Perhaps the lack of answers was frustrating, and just as he was starting to think about it, the carriage stopped in front of the Schwerin station square.
The train station, deep in the night with the pouring rain, was as desolate and eerie as expected. Even if the woman had truly run away from her father, it seemed unlikely she'd still be wandering around like a vagrant. She would have left long ago on a train or found somewhere else to stay in the city. Any woman in her right mind, that is.
Bjorn chuckled, his curiosity having yielded no results. He had just made up his mind to start when he spotted the silhouette of a figure walking listlessly from the end of the square.
Bjorn, who had been reaching out toward the carriage wall, withdrew his hand and, with narrowed eyes, examined the approaching pedestrian. It was a small, delicate woman. Holding a travel trunk in one hand and a battered, tattered umbrella in the other, she staggered, almost falling, but steadfastly continued on her way.
Just as the raindrops streaming down the window began to grow irritating, the woman who had arrived at the foot of the clock tower in the center of the square raised her head. It was difficult to see her face from a distance, but Bjorn could clearly see her long brown hair flowing beneath the hood of her cloak. The lines of her body, her posture, and her aura were strangely familiar.
No way.
Bjorn denied his absurd premonition and checked the time. It was already well past eleven. It wasn't the time for a woman who called herself a lady of virtue to be out and about so fearlessly. Especially in this weather. And in this state.
But no matter how many times he watched it again, Bjorn could only come to one conclusion.
“...Erna.”
The quietly whispered name seeped through the sound of the rain pounding on the carriage.
It was just after five o'clock when Erna passed through Piazza Tara. She wore a wide-brimmed bonnet pulled down low over her head, and a large, hooded cloak over it.
Erna staggered to the fountain, resting her trunk on the railing and taking a moment to catch her breath. The wind and rain were so fierce that she struggled to keep her composure. It was a day when even a short walk left her breathless and shivering.
Just bear with it for a little longer.
Erna muttered to herself, as if trying to convince herself, then grabbed her trunk again and began walking through the pouring rain. The umbrella, already broken at one end, wasn't much help, but she couldn't let it go as a last resort.
Arriving at the empty stagecoach stop, Erna scanned the road anxiously. Fortunately, she didn't have to wait long before a carriage appeared.
'You take after your mother so much that even your uselessness is chilling.'
Before leaving the bedroom, which had become a mess, her father's face, which had been throwing out contemptuous words, flashed through the cold landscape.
'I don't know how spoiled those old folks were, but remember that in this house, if you do something wrong, you will pay a heavy price.'
He clicked his tongue as he looked down at Erna, who lay trembling like a broken doll, and then turned and walked away without a care. Beyond the open door stood the Viscountess, who had come to discipline the servants.
She looked down at Erna with eyes as cold as Viscount Hardy's, then turned away with a sigh of exhaustion. Only then was Lisa able to run to Erna's side.
It was a strange thing.
Lisa was sobbing bitterly, but Erna, who had been beaten, didn't seem particularly sad or hurt. It was okay. It would all be over tomorrow anyway. It seemed to be thanks to the countless repetitions of that spell.
Erna obediently surrendered herself to Lisa's care as she tended to her wounds. She took the medicine she'd brought and went to bed like a good child. She chewed and swallowed every bite of the food brought to her room, knowing she'd have to somehow muster up the energy to leave safely. She didn't want to think about anything else.
As the sound of horse hooves drew closer, Erna pulled the brim of her bonnet down further, hiding her face. The carriage, normally packed, was practically empty.
Erna crouched down in the far corner. The carriage remained stationary for a few more minutes, but there were no more passengers.
Until the carriage, which had started to run through the rain, stopped in the square in front of the central station, Erna did not raise her deeply bowed head even once.
***
“What on earth is going on?”
Pavel, finding the conductor in the passage between the two carriages, asked anxiously. The train had come to a sudden halt and remained motionless for over ten minutes.
“I’m sorry. I was trying to speak to the passengers anyway.”
The conductor sighed deeply and cleared his throat.
“A rockslide occurred due to heavy rain. It will take some time to clear the blocked rail.”
“How long do you think it will be delayed?”
A deep wrinkle formed between Pavel's eyebrows as he checked the time.
“Well, I’m trying my best to hurry, but I can’t say for sure right now...”
The conductor, vaguely evasive, nodded in greeting and then hurried down the train's corridor. His voice, as he opened each compartment door and relayed the news of the rockslide, mingled with the sound of raindrops hitting the windows.
Pavel, who had been pacing anxiously in the hallway, returned to his room. A middle-aged couple sat across from him, reading a book with a look of resignation on their faces. Through the car window, he could see workers and carts beginning to clear away rocks and dirt, but the torrential rain continued to pour, slowing the pace of the work.
"I give up, young gentleman. This is a section prone to rockfalls. It'll take at least half a day."
The woman, who had been watching Pavel fidgeting, spoke with a smile.
"We're going to the dining car for dinner. Why don't you join us? If we keep waiting like this, we'll miss our meal."
“No, thank you for your kind words, but I’m fine.”
Pavel answered with an embarrassed expression on his face.
After the two departed for the dining car, Pavel was left alone in the six-person cabin. A deepening anxiety, compounded by the silence, began to sharply grate on his nerves. He'd been relieved to catch the train an hour early, but this kind of accident happened. It was maddening.
Pavel watched the slow progress with a sense of listlessness. Even when the couple returned from dinner, the train showed no signs of moving again.
“See? I told you it’s going to take a long time.”
The Madam's words woke Pavel from his half-asleep state. He checked his watch again, startled, and saw that it was already the time he had promised Erna.
“Do you have any important plans?”
The Madam, seeing his desperate face, asked with concern.
"Yes."
Pavel opened his dry lips to answer. It was then that Madam's words, about her frequenting this road, flashed through his mind.
“Madam, is there a village near here?”
"If it's a village, are you looking for a place to stay? It won't be long enough to stay up all night."
“No. That’s not it...”
Pavel glanced out the window with a worried look. Erna was sure to have already arrived at their meeting place. She was the kind of girl who never broke a promise.
"Any town where a stagecoach to Schwerin can pass through will do. If not, any place where I can rent horses will do."
Pavel faced the couple with a determined look on his face.
“Is there a village like that nearby?”
Up to there.
The spell that had been used to calm his mind was no longer effective.
***
The Grand Duke won again today. Since it was a predicted result, everyone's reaction was indifferent.
If you're going to lose, it's better to lose to Bjorn Dneister.
That saying became a sort of proverb in this club's card room. It was more honorable to lose to an opponent you couldn't beat anyway than to bow to a rabble.
“Oh, are you leaving already?”
Peter's eyes widened as he saw Bjorn rise from the card table. Leaving just as things were about to get interesting. It was uncharacteristic of Bjorn. Especially considering it was a lucky night.
“Should you stay longer?”
“Why? Do you want to lose more money?”
Bjorn smiled, pointing to the chip in front of Peter, which had been noticeably reduced.
A few profanity-laced jokes and laughter erupted as Bjorn straightened his clothes and put on his jacket. As he exited the smoky card room, his vision suddenly cleared.
Erna.
Perhaps that's why a forgotten name suddenly came to mind, Bjorn thought, without thinking much about it. Success or failure. By now, the outcome should have been roughly decided.
“Go to the station.”
Bjorn impulsively ordered the coachman to open the carriage door. He knew it was reckless curiosity, but he didn't pay much attention. The coachman seemed to have a slightly different opinion.
“You mean Schwerin Station? The station where the train stops?”
The coachman asked in surprise, as if he had been told to go to hell.
"You're not planning to take the train, are you, Prince? I've never heard of such an itinerary..."
“No. Just pass the station and go to the palace. That’s it.”
Bjorn explained it as if it were the natural course of action and then climbed into the carriage. The coachman, still unconvinced, obeyed without further questioning.
As the horse began to gallop, the rain grew louder. Bjorn gazed helplessly at the city lights streaming past the wet windowpane.
All he knew about Erna Hardy's midnight escape was that it was today and that the destination was Burford. Without any information about the time, with whom, or how they were to escape, searching for the station would be a waste of time. But the hour wasted on the road wasn't all that bad. In any case, he'd be home much earlier than usual, so he could consider this a decent day, as Mrs. Fitz had so strongly recommended.
Erna.
He whispered the name that is most famous in the social world these days.
Erna. Erna Hardy.
It was a week ago, when the name he had last seen came to mind, as the grand history began to appear across the rainy street.
The woman's eyes were like those of a lost child. Mia, so confused, so lost, so confused, so lost, so lost, that she had even forgotten how to cry.
The eyes were just blank, not particularly appealing or yearning for anything, but why did he feel so miserable, as if he had finally pushed away the hand of a child who was clinging to me and pleading?
Such questions often came to Bjorn, but he never found a suitable answer. This time, it was no different. Perhaps the lack of answers was frustrating, and just as he was starting to think about it, the carriage stopped in front of the Schwerin station square.
The train station, deep in the night with the pouring rain, was as desolate and eerie as expected. Even if the woman had truly run away from her father, it seemed unlikely she'd still be wandering around like a vagrant. She would have left long ago on a train or found somewhere else to stay in the city. Any woman in her right mind, that is.
Bjorn chuckled, his curiosity having yielded no results. He had just made up his mind to start when he spotted the silhouette of a figure walking listlessly from the end of the square.
Bjorn, who had been reaching out toward the carriage wall, withdrew his hand and, with narrowed eyes, examined the approaching pedestrian. It was a small, delicate woman. Holding a travel trunk in one hand and a battered, tattered umbrella in the other, she staggered, almost falling, but steadfastly continued on her way.
Just as the raindrops streaming down the window began to grow irritating, the woman who had arrived at the foot of the clock tower in the center of the square raised her head. It was difficult to see her face from a distance, but Bjorn could clearly see her long brown hair flowing beneath the hood of her cloak. The lines of her body, her posture, and her aura were strangely familiar.
No way.
Bjorn denied his absurd premonition and checked the time. It was already well past eleven. It wasn't the time for a woman who called herself a lady of virtue to be out and about so fearlessly. Especially in this weather. And in this state.
But no matter how many times he watched it again, Bjorn could only come to one conclusion.
“...Erna.”
The quietly whispered name seeped through the sound of the rain pounding on the carriage.
Comments
Post a Comment