38. I'll give you money
“Does Your Highness know Pavel?”
Erna, who had been silent for a moment, asked back in disbelief.
"How do you know about this? Did I mention it to you? Or... did you hear a rumor about it?"
Erna, lost in thought, continued to ask questions. Her face was innocent, as if she had no reservations, just pure curiosity about the situation.
“No. Miss Hardy said so.”
Bjorn, slightly embarrassed, lied skillfully. "Me? Really?" Erna repeated the question several times, never once breaking eye contact with him. Her demeanor was even more relaxed than when she had hesitated, unable to speak.
“So, besides the Prince, there’s no one who knows yet?”
Erna, clutching the ends of the shawl draped over her shoulders, suddenly lowered her voice and asked. It seemed she was finally grasping the situation.
"Maybe."
Erna breathed a sigh of relief at Bjorn's indifferent answer.
“Thank goodness. I was so worried that rumors would spread.”
Erna smiled with her face relaxed.
A woman who looks haggard from a bad cold and has a face covered in scars from being beaten by her father, and laughs as she talks about her lover, who tried to run away with her in the middle of the night.
As Bjorn snickered in bewilderment, Erna's smile grew brighter.
"Please keep this a secret, Prince. I beg you. If rumors spread, Pavel will be in serious trouble."
Erna bowed deeply and asked, her attitude devoid of context or consistency.
"Why."
Bjorn's long, smooth fingers, which had been caressing the rim of the teacup, stopped.
“Aren’t you prepared for the fall in reputation and rumors when you decided to run away with love?”
“Huh? Are you saying that Pavel and I were about to... commit such a shameful act?”
“Or else?”
"Oh my goodness. Pavel is my friend. He's like family to me, from my childhood in Burford!"
Erna shouted with a serious expression, as if she had been greatly insulted.
"A midnight escape? That's ridiculous! Of course, we were planning to leave for Burford together, but that was because of the money we had agreed to borrow. Traveling alone with that much money could be dangerous, so Pavel agreed to take me to the Baden mansion."
"...Money?"
Bjorn's brow furrowed slightly. Erna, belatedly realizing her mistake, bit her lip in despair.
Why do I always end up getting caught cheating by this guy?
If only she could, she felt like disappearing somewhere. She knew it was ridiculous to talk about pride in a situation like this, but Erna felt the same way.
“Are you borrowing money from Pavel Lore?”
Bjorn tilted his head and looked at Erna.
“Why?”
As she frowned, the color in her eyes deepened. The memory of that midsummer night, when she had thought those eyes truly beautiful, made Erna feel even more miserable.
She wished that moment had been the last.
Embarrassed by the fleeting wind, Erna bowed her head deeply. A table covered in white lace brought back shameful memories she'd forgotten. Her clothes, tattered from rain and mud, her face bruised and disfigured. Her pathetic figure, exhausted from waiting for Pavel, who never showed up. The raindrops that ran down her body stained the splendid carriage.
“Miss Hardy.”
Bjorn's urging voice was low and quiet.
Erna squeezed her eyes shut and opened them, raising her head in resignation. She decided to be bold. For now, that was the only way to protect her heart.
“Speak.”
His gray eyes, staring straight at Erna, were deep.
"Hurry."
The eyes were still as beautiful as that night.
Baroness Baden arrived just as Pavel was leaving the house. Madame Greve, her face drenched in tears, was with her.
“Baroness!”
Pavel, recognizing her, cried out in shock. Looking at her again, he could clearly see that she was Erna's maternal grandmother, the unmistakable Baroness of Baden of Burford.
“Pavel! We’re in trouble, kid! Our Erna is missing!”
When her eyes met Pavel's, she began to sob even more bitterly. Madam Greve joined in, and the front door was instantly filled with tears.
It was a surreal sight, almost unbelievable, but Pavel led them to the reception room. Still struggling to stop crying, the two old ladies stammered out a story about how they had come to this place, their visit to the Hardy family, and the shocking news they had received there.
“It’s already been a day since I reported it, and I still haven’t found a single strand of Erna’s hair.”
Baroness Baden wiped her red eyes with the edge of a damp handkerchief.
"I'm on my way back from the police station again. The officer gave me your address. He asked if I knew anyone in this city, so I told him your name. He said he'd visit you before the end of the night. I hope I didn't cause you any trouble."
“...No. No, Baroness.”
Pavel managed to squeeze out a voice as he answered. His mind went blank, and his throat felt choked.
With the rockslide showing no signs of recovery, Pavel disembarked and headed to a nearby town, as instructed by a couple he'd met in his cabin. Fortunately, he found a stagecoach company, but the long-distance route to Schwerin had already been suspended due to heavy rain.
Pavel, agonizing over his options, boarded a stagecoach bound for the nearest town to Schwerin. He expected a change of carriages would get him to Schwerin, but the small town's stagecoach had already stopped running, disrupting his plans once again.
Just when he felt like he was going crazy, Pavel luckily found a post station where he could rent a horse. The owner, who had charged four times the usual price because of the bad weather, didn't seem to mind. Thinking of Erna, terrified and alone, guarding the station, he could have done anything. He had to.
But in the end, this is what it looks like.
Pavel clenched his fists, swallowing the self-loathing that threatened to drive him mad.
Erna was nowhere to be found at Schwerin Station, even after searching the area thoroughly, calling her name at the top of his lungs.
Could it be that she couldn't get out of the house? Or maybe she went back home because I didn't come?
As dawn broke, Pavel found himself wishing it were so. The overly quiet atmosphere of the Hardy household gradually reinforced his suspicion. If he'd known Erna was gone, they wouldn't have been so calm. The Hardy household's maid, who waited outside the back door, confirmed his suspicion.
'The young lady is not feeling well and is recuperating at home.'
The maid glared at him with a wary look.
'It will be difficult for her to go out for the time being, so I hope you won't come to me like this.'
The maid who left those words disappeared into the mansion as if running away.
“Does Your Highness know Pavel?”
Erna, who had been silent for a moment, asked back in disbelief.
"How do you know about this? Did I mention it to you? Or... did you hear a rumor about it?"
Erna, lost in thought, continued to ask questions. Her face was innocent, as if she had no reservations, just pure curiosity about the situation.
“No. Miss Hardy said so.”
Bjorn, slightly embarrassed, lied skillfully. "Me? Really?" Erna repeated the question several times, never once breaking eye contact with him. Her demeanor was even more relaxed than when she had hesitated, unable to speak.
“So, besides the Prince, there’s no one who knows yet?”
Erna, clutching the ends of the shawl draped over her shoulders, suddenly lowered her voice and asked. It seemed she was finally grasping the situation.
"Maybe."
Erna breathed a sigh of relief at Bjorn's indifferent answer.
“Thank goodness. I was so worried that rumors would spread.”
Erna smiled with her face relaxed.
A woman who looks haggard from a bad cold and has a face covered in scars from being beaten by her father, and laughs as she talks about her lover, who tried to run away with her in the middle of the night.
As Bjorn snickered in bewilderment, Erna's smile grew brighter.
"Please keep this a secret, Prince. I beg you. If rumors spread, Pavel will be in serious trouble."
Erna bowed deeply and asked, her attitude devoid of context or consistency.
"Why."
Bjorn's long, smooth fingers, which had been caressing the rim of the teacup, stopped.
“Aren’t you prepared for the fall in reputation and rumors when you decided to run away with love?”
“Huh? Are you saying that Pavel and I were about to... commit such a shameful act?”
“Or else?”
"Oh my goodness. Pavel is my friend. He's like family to me, from my childhood in Burford!"
Erna shouted with a serious expression, as if she had been greatly insulted.
"A midnight escape? That's ridiculous! Of course, we were planning to leave for Burford together, but that was because of the money we had agreed to borrow. Traveling alone with that much money could be dangerous, so Pavel agreed to take me to the Baden mansion."
"...Money?"
Bjorn's brow furrowed slightly. Erna, belatedly realizing her mistake, bit her lip in despair.
Why do I always end up getting caught cheating by this guy?
If only she could, she felt like disappearing somewhere. She knew it was ridiculous to talk about pride in a situation like this, but Erna felt the same way.
“Are you borrowing money from Pavel Lore?”
Bjorn tilted his head and looked at Erna.
“Why?”
As she frowned, the color in her eyes deepened. The memory of that midsummer night, when she had thought those eyes truly beautiful, made Erna feel even more miserable.
She wished that moment had been the last.
Embarrassed by the fleeting wind, Erna bowed her head deeply. A table covered in white lace brought back shameful memories she'd forgotten. Her clothes, tattered from rain and mud, her face bruised and disfigured. Her pathetic figure, exhausted from waiting for Pavel, who never showed up. The raindrops that ran down her body stained the splendid carriage.
“Miss Hardy.”
Bjorn's urging voice was low and quiet.
Erna squeezed her eyes shut and opened them, raising her head in resignation. She decided to be bold. For now, that was the only way to protect her heart.
“Speak.”
His gray eyes, staring straight at Erna, were deep.
"Hurry."
The eyes were still as beautiful as that night.
***
Baroness Baden arrived just as Pavel was leaving the house. Madame Greve, her face drenched in tears, was with her.
“Baroness!”
Pavel, recognizing her, cried out in shock. Looking at her again, he could clearly see that she was Erna's maternal grandmother, the unmistakable Baroness of Baden of Burford.
“Pavel! We’re in trouble, kid! Our Erna is missing!”
When her eyes met Pavel's, she began to sob even more bitterly. Madam Greve joined in, and the front door was instantly filled with tears.
It was a surreal sight, almost unbelievable, but Pavel led them to the reception room. Still struggling to stop crying, the two old ladies stammered out a story about how they had come to this place, their visit to the Hardy family, and the shocking news they had received there.
“It’s already been a day since I reported it, and I still haven’t found a single strand of Erna’s hair.”
Baroness Baden wiped her red eyes with the edge of a damp handkerchief.
"I'm on my way back from the police station again. The officer gave me your address. He asked if I knew anyone in this city, so I told him your name. He said he'd visit you before the end of the night. I hope I didn't cause you any trouble."
“...No. No, Baroness.”
Pavel managed to squeeze out a voice as he answered. His mind went blank, and his throat felt choked.
With the rockslide showing no signs of recovery, Pavel disembarked and headed to a nearby town, as instructed by a couple he'd met in his cabin. Fortunately, he found a stagecoach company, but the long-distance route to Schwerin had already been suspended due to heavy rain.
Pavel, agonizing over his options, boarded a stagecoach bound for the nearest town to Schwerin. He expected a change of carriages would get him to Schwerin, but the small town's stagecoach had already stopped running, disrupting his plans once again.
Just when he felt like he was going crazy, Pavel luckily found a post station where he could rent a horse. The owner, who had charged four times the usual price because of the bad weather, didn't seem to mind. Thinking of Erna, terrified and alone, guarding the station, he could have done anything. He had to.
But in the end, this is what it looks like.
Pavel clenched his fists, swallowing the self-loathing that threatened to drive him mad.
Erna was nowhere to be found at Schwerin Station, even after searching the area thoroughly, calling her name at the top of his lungs.
Could it be that she couldn't get out of the house? Or maybe she went back home because I didn't come?
As dawn broke, Pavel found himself wishing it were so. The overly quiet atmosphere of the Hardy household gradually reinforced his suspicion. If he'd known Erna was gone, they wouldn't have been so calm. The Hardy household's maid, who waited outside the back door, confirmed his suspicion.
'The young lady is not feeling well and is recuperating at home.'
The maid glared at him with a wary look.
'It will be difficult for her to go out for the time being, so I hope you won't come to me like this.'
The maid who left those words disappeared into the mansion as if running away.
Pavel was turned away, but only then was he able to breathe properly. It was a morning when he felt grateful to the god he didn't believe in, thankful that Erna was finally home.
To avoid putting Erna, who might be under her father's surveillance, in trouble, Pavel turned back. He waited. He hoped the right time would come for her to contact him. But day after day passed, and there was still no word from Erna. He sent a letter through his errand boy, but there was no reply.
Something went wrong.
A little while ago, when the errand boy who had brought the third letter returned empty-handed, Pavel had no choice but to draw that conclusion. The atmosphere at the Hardy household remained calm, but something was undeniably wrong with Erna. As he left the house to investigate, he ran into Baroness Baden.
Pathetic kid. He didn't even know this.
Pavel struggled to hold back his ragged breath. If it weren't for the two old ladies before him, he would have felt like tearing his own hair out.
“Pavel, honey, are you okay?”
Baroness Baden, who had been observing him, asked a concerned question. Pavel raised his flushed face and faced her.
He knew he had to tell her, but he couldn't quite figure out where to begin, where to end, what to say, or how to say it. Erna was the kind of girl who, no matter what, would never tell her grandmother what her father had done to her.
But what good would that do now that Erna's gone? No. What if Erna isn't really gone?
Amidst the countless tangled questions, Pavel had only one answer.
“...Yes, Baroness.”
Cold sweat ran down his palms.
"It's okay."
Even in his cowardly, evasive moment, Pavel knew he had to make a decision before meeting the officer, at the latest.
“I’ll give you money.”
Bjorn broke the heavy silence that had lasted for so long with a calm voice. Erna, who had been looking down, finally looked at him. Her face seemed to say she didn't understand.
"That money you said you owed Pavel Lore. I'll give it to you."
Bjorn continued his explanation in a steady tone. It was understandable, but Erna just stared blankly at him.
Viscount Hardy, who made such a deal with his daughter over the Baden mansion, was a filthy father. And Erna Hardy, who was tricked by such a father into coming to this city and suffering such humiliation, was a pitiful woman.
But that's it.
The tragedy of a dirty father and his poor daughter was not a matter for others to get involved in. But in some way, he contributed to making that woman even more miserable, and he had a duty to take responsibility for it.
All in all, the conclusion Bjorn came to was money.
What she needed most right now. What he could give her. A means to clear the debt that was making her feel so bad. No matter how much he thought about it, it was money. There couldn't be a more elegant ending than returning the winnings from a bet he made on her.
“Don’t worry. I’m not going to put you in debt again.”
Bjorn chuckled briefly as he remembered the woman who had innocently said she would sell things like flower arrangements to pay off the price of gold.
“It’s not about lending, it’s about giving.”
“The Prince...gives me money?”
As expected, Erna looked puzzled.
“Why?”
The wary eyes and flushed cheeks were no different from what he had guessed.
Bjorn sighed and looked out the window for a moment.
He didn't want to owe this woman anything, especially emotional debt. But Erna was stubborn and would never accept money without a good reason, so there was only one way: to reveal the bet.
Bjorn, who had sorted out the thoughts that had been swirling around in his head, faced Erna again with a calm expression.
“Your Highness, this is Mrs. Fitz.”
Just as Bjorn was about to speak, a knock rang out at the door. Her voice was unusually impatient.
“Come in.”
Bjorn, who had sought Erna's understanding with a nod, gave the order, and the door opened. Madame Fitz, who approached with quick steps, had an unmistakable look of bewilderment on her face.
“I have received an urgent message from Schwerin Palace.”
She spoke before Bjorn could ask.
“It is His Majesty the King’s order to come in immediately.”
To avoid putting Erna, who might be under her father's surveillance, in trouble, Pavel turned back. He waited. He hoped the right time would come for her to contact him. But day after day passed, and there was still no word from Erna. He sent a letter through his errand boy, but there was no reply.
Something went wrong.
A little while ago, when the errand boy who had brought the third letter returned empty-handed, Pavel had no choice but to draw that conclusion. The atmosphere at the Hardy household remained calm, but something was undeniably wrong with Erna. As he left the house to investigate, he ran into Baroness Baden.
Pathetic kid. He didn't even know this.
Pavel struggled to hold back his ragged breath. If it weren't for the two old ladies before him, he would have felt like tearing his own hair out.
“Pavel, honey, are you okay?”
Baroness Baden, who had been observing him, asked a concerned question. Pavel raised his flushed face and faced her.
He knew he had to tell her, but he couldn't quite figure out where to begin, where to end, what to say, or how to say it. Erna was the kind of girl who, no matter what, would never tell her grandmother what her father had done to her.
But what good would that do now that Erna's gone? No. What if Erna isn't really gone?
Amidst the countless tangled questions, Pavel had only one answer.
“...Yes, Baroness.”
Cold sweat ran down his palms.
"It's okay."
Even in his cowardly, evasive moment, Pavel knew he had to make a decision before meeting the officer, at the latest.
***
“I’ll give you money.”
Bjorn broke the heavy silence that had lasted for so long with a calm voice. Erna, who had been looking down, finally looked at him. Her face seemed to say she didn't understand.
"That money you said you owed Pavel Lore. I'll give it to you."
Bjorn continued his explanation in a steady tone. It was understandable, but Erna just stared blankly at him.
Viscount Hardy, who made such a deal with his daughter over the Baden mansion, was a filthy father. And Erna Hardy, who was tricked by such a father into coming to this city and suffering such humiliation, was a pitiful woman.
But that's it.
The tragedy of a dirty father and his poor daughter was not a matter for others to get involved in. But in some way, he contributed to making that woman even more miserable, and he had a duty to take responsibility for it.
All in all, the conclusion Bjorn came to was money.
What she needed most right now. What he could give her. A means to clear the debt that was making her feel so bad. No matter how much he thought about it, it was money. There couldn't be a more elegant ending than returning the winnings from a bet he made on her.
“Don’t worry. I’m not going to put you in debt again.”
Bjorn chuckled briefly as he remembered the woman who had innocently said she would sell things like flower arrangements to pay off the price of gold.
“It’s not about lending, it’s about giving.”
“The Prince...gives me money?”
As expected, Erna looked puzzled.
“Why?”
The wary eyes and flushed cheeks were no different from what he had guessed.
Bjorn sighed and looked out the window for a moment.
He didn't want to owe this woman anything, especially emotional debt. But Erna was stubborn and would never accept money without a good reason, so there was only one way: to reveal the bet.
Bjorn, who had sorted out the thoughts that had been swirling around in his head, faced Erna again with a calm expression.
“Your Highness, this is Mrs. Fitz.”
Just as Bjorn was about to speak, a knock rang out at the door. Her voice was unusually impatient.
“Come in.”
Bjorn, who had sought Erna's understanding with a nod, gave the order, and the door opened. Madame Fitz, who approached with quick steps, had an unmistakable look of bewilderment on her face.
“I have received an urgent message from Schwerin Palace.”
She spoke before Bjorn could ask.
“It is His Majesty the King’s order to come in immediately.”
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