39. The most perfect arrangement
The problem started with the excessive loyalty of the Schwerin police chief.
The reason why a common missing person's case, which would normally be handled by the lower ranks, ended up being brought up to the police department was because the missing woman was none other than Erna Hardy.
Who is Miss Hardy?
She is the Grand Duke's lover.
Who is the Grand Duke again?
Even though he has fallen from being the Crown Prince to a poisonous mushroom, isn't he still the eldest son whom His Majesty the King loves?
After several rounds of self-questioning, he immediately left the director's office and headed to Schwerin Palace, where the King was staying.
Accumulated experience has shown that most incidents of this kind are linked to romantic interest. If the young lady had truly gone missing, Prince Bjorn would be the first suspect. Thinking about the foolish subordinates who waited a day to report such a grave matter to the director's office made his head spin.
A Prince is being investigated as a suspect in a missing woman's case at a suspicious time, when the Republicans are always looking for an opportunity to undermine the royal family!
For him, who considered himself the most loyal royalist, this was an unbearable humiliation. However, that didn't excuse the crime. Therefore, the best he could do was to allow the royal family to prepare for the situation before a full-scale investigation began. Fortunately, the King understood his intentions perfectly.
With the departure of the police commissioner, who had embraced the royalist pride and loyalty that had been fostered by Philip III, who had maintained his composure and dignity even in the face of news that his son might have been involved in a crime, the ball was now in the King's hands. And he unleashed his pent-up anger by hurling it with all his might at his troublesome son.
'Call Bjorn! Now!'
The always benevolent King's fiery command startled everyone, even the Queen. It was at this very moment, when the icy atmosphere reached its peak, that Bjorn, who had been hastily brought to the villa, entered.
“I heard that the daughter of the Hardy family has gone missing.”
The King got to the point before Bjorn could even finish his greetings.
“If this involves you, tell me honestly, Bjorn.”
Philip Dneister's gaze became even more stern as he watched his son, who did not seem particularly surprised.
After catching his breath, Bjorn first bowed politely to the King and Queen before taking his seat.
“She's not missing.”
The faces of the royal couple were dumbfounded as they listened to Bjorn's calm answer.
"I'm taking Miss Hardy with me. I'm only providing temporary assistance due to circumstances that have arisen. I'll be sorting things out soon, so don't worry, Your Majesty."
Even before them, lost in thought, Bjorn remained calm. He seemed utterly incredulous that he had secretly abducted the very girl he'd been involved in a scandal with, creating the chaos that led to a missing person's report being filed with the police.
Without saying who would go first, the two people who faced each other let out the same sigh.
The moment he heard the police chief's report, he knew Bjorn couldn't have committed such a heinous crime. What worried the King was this: his son's unwillingness to drag the girl beyond the line of reason, thus burning the bridge to his own escape.
In a police station teeming with reporters scouting for scoops, there's no way this could remain a secret forever. It'll leak out somehow, and the drooling pack of wild dogs will be thrilled and tear their prey to pieces.
What could possibly justify taking all these risks and stealing Erna Hardy?
No. That didn't matter anymore. What shocked him was the fact that none other than Bjorn, that ruthless and cold-blooded fellow, had committed such an outrageous act.
"Organize?"
Philip Dneister, who was asking in astonishment, ended up bursting into laughter.
Be had no idea.
Even in the face of the Queen's message that Bjorn seemed to have a special interest in the daughter of the Hardy family, and even in the face of the suggestion that he should allow the two to marry if he truly desired it, and even in the face of the scandal that was causing a stir throughout Letzen, he maintained an attitude of "no way."
Surely Bjorn would have liked a girl like that.
But that self-deceptive belief had now worn thin. Based on the reality unfolding before his eyes, there was only one conclusion he could draw: the Queen was right.
"Honey."
The Queen's affectionate voice woke him from his despair.
Is this really the best?
As if answering the question he had posed with his eyes, his wife nodded slowly. She was the very same Isabelle Dneister, a wise Queen and a loving mother. There was no way she would make a decision that would harm Bjorn, her most vulnerable finger.
He couldn't understand Bjorn, and he didn't like the Hardy family's daughter, but he trusted his wife, who had been a wonderful companion throughout his life. She always had, and always would.
'I now know that the young lady is a decent woman, contrary to the rumors. But, my dear, that doesn't change the fact that the Hardy family is beyond redemption.'
The day his wife first brought up the subject of Bjorn and Young Lady Hardy's marriage, he retorted with a pensive expression. His wife, staring blankly at him, smiled and asked back.
"Do you really think that Your Majesty's son, who even at such a young age had the experienced King of Lars in his grasp, would be unable to properly handle a single foolish and greedy noble?"
The conversation that night, which ultimately yielded no answer, erased his last hesitation.
In any case, this was the girl who moved Bjorn's heart, who had never shown any personal interest even to the perfect Gladys. If he had missed this opportunity, he might have spent the rest of his life alone.
Should I see that sight or accept an unpleasant daughter-in-law?
If you had to choose between the two, the answer was already decided.
“Yes. Clean up.”
Philip Dneister commanded, his face a stern monarch. Bjorn met him with narrowed eyes, as if to say he didn't understand.
“If that is what you want, I will grant you permission to visit Miss Hardy.”
"...Father?"
Bjorn, who had been dazed for a moment, laughed and called out to him. But Philip Dneister's expression, as he gazed at his bewildered son, was colder and solemn than ever.
“Get married.”
He gave another strong command to his son, who was just laughing.
"Let's get you married to Miss Hardy. That seems like the perfect arrangement for now, Bjorn."
As the doctor departed after completing his examination, a heavy silence descended. Madame Fitz, who had stayed by Erna's side for several days to nurse her, had returned to the palace with the Prince, leaving Erna alone in the townhouse.
After staring blankly into space for a while, Erna began pacing around the bedroom, clutching the hem of her shawl. Her body, still recovering, ached, but she felt too anxious to sit still.
Just as he was about to reject the absurd proposal, Bjorn heard the royal command and went straight back to the palace.
'I'll be back soon.'
He said, looking at the surprised Erna.
'Wait.'
He smiled casually and left the house without even hearing Erna's response.
I'll give you money.
Thinking of those insulting words, she wanted to leave immediately. To a place where she could never see that man again. Far away. Very far away. But wait. The afterimage of those last words made Erna unable to bear the bitterness.
Being insulted didn't make him any less of a benefactor.
On that chilling, dreary night, when she felt as if the whole world had abandoned her, the Prince had undoubtedly become Erna's savior. The memory of that moment, when he approached her as she sat on the rain-soaked road, their eyes locked, bringing with her conflicting emotions of shame and relief, still lingered vividly in a corner of her mind.
As her dizziness grew worse and she could no longer control her body, Erna approached the window chair. The sunset spreading across the western sky, painting Erna, sitting serenely, looking down at the street like a still life, and the tightly packed old trunk, crimson.
After expressing her refusal and gratitude to him for his time, let's go find Pavel. If he hasn't returned yet, leave him a letter and return to Burford.
Even as she meticulously laid out the order of her work, Erna's gaze never left the street visible through the window. The shadows of the lengthening evening drifted dizzily across the busy streets.
The officer did not come until the new day dawned.
Pavel, deciding he couldn't just wait around, hurriedly prepared to head to the police station as soon as morning came. Two elderly ladies from Burford were with him.
"Is this how cruel a city really is, Pavel? Treating our Erna like she's nothing more than a speck of dust. I can't stand it!"
Baroness Baden stared at the imposing building of the police station with eyes swollen from crying.
“There must have been a moment of confusion because so many things were happening, Baroness.”
Pavel's face, trying hard to offer words of comfort, was equally stiff with anger that could not be hidden well.
“I’ll be back soon, so you two can wait here.”
Pavel seated Baroness Baden and Madame Greve on a bench in the police station hallway. It seemed impossible to bring these two elderly women, who burst into tears at the mere mention of Erna's name, to the police station.
Pavel, repeatedly reminded to wait there, hurried to the missing persons unit. Clearly, something was wrong; he was determined to confess everything and cooperate with the investigation. However, the officer broke Pavel's resolve with the absurd statement that the Erna Hardy disappearance case was already closed.
"Look, young man. That girl isn't missing. Look at this."
The officer even showed the investigation log to Pavel, who was still unsure of his whereabouts. True to his word, the case was closed. The reason given was a family error resulting in a false report. Even seeing it for himself, it was hard to believe.
“That can’t be true! Erna is definitely...”
“Is this the case of the noble lady you heard about?”
Just as Pavel was about to refute, another officer suddenly intervened.
"Look at this. I knew this would happen. Nine out of ten cases like this happen."
He chuckled, throwing the newspaper he was holding in one hand onto the officer's desk. Pavel, about to protest the rudeness, was silenced by the provocative headline on the front page of the newspaper he'd casually glanced at.
The missing daughter of the Hardy family turns out to be living with the Grand Duke.
He couldn't believe it, so he read it again several times, and it was the same.
Pavel snatched the tabloid paper away in horror. As he read each line of the sleazy article, his hands began to tremble more and more. The police station hallway erupted in commotion when Pavel's gaze landed on the last line of the article.
“Something terrible has happened! The old lady has collapsed!”
A panicked scream echoed through the crowd.
Pavel, pale and terrified, threw down his newspaper and ran into the hallway. Squeezing through the crowd of people surrounding the benches, he saw Baroness Baden collapse, clutching her chest, and Madame Greve weeping beside her.
A newspaper lay scattered beside the Baroness. It was the tabloid Pavel had seen earlier.
The problem started with the excessive loyalty of the Schwerin police chief.
The reason why a common missing person's case, which would normally be handled by the lower ranks, ended up being brought up to the police department was because the missing woman was none other than Erna Hardy.
Who is Miss Hardy?
She is the Grand Duke's lover.
Who is the Grand Duke again?
Even though he has fallen from being the Crown Prince to a poisonous mushroom, isn't he still the eldest son whom His Majesty the King loves?
After several rounds of self-questioning, he immediately left the director's office and headed to Schwerin Palace, where the King was staying.
Accumulated experience has shown that most incidents of this kind are linked to romantic interest. If the young lady had truly gone missing, Prince Bjorn would be the first suspect. Thinking about the foolish subordinates who waited a day to report such a grave matter to the director's office made his head spin.
A Prince is being investigated as a suspect in a missing woman's case at a suspicious time, when the Republicans are always looking for an opportunity to undermine the royal family!
For him, who considered himself the most loyal royalist, this was an unbearable humiliation. However, that didn't excuse the crime. Therefore, the best he could do was to allow the royal family to prepare for the situation before a full-scale investigation began. Fortunately, the King understood his intentions perfectly.
With the departure of the police commissioner, who had embraced the royalist pride and loyalty that had been fostered by Philip III, who had maintained his composure and dignity even in the face of news that his son might have been involved in a crime, the ball was now in the King's hands. And he unleashed his pent-up anger by hurling it with all his might at his troublesome son.
'Call Bjorn! Now!'
The always benevolent King's fiery command startled everyone, even the Queen. It was at this very moment, when the icy atmosphere reached its peak, that Bjorn, who had been hastily brought to the villa, entered.
“I heard that the daughter of the Hardy family has gone missing.”
The King got to the point before Bjorn could even finish his greetings.
“If this involves you, tell me honestly, Bjorn.”
Philip Dneister's gaze became even more stern as he watched his son, who did not seem particularly surprised.
After catching his breath, Bjorn first bowed politely to the King and Queen before taking his seat.
“She's not missing.”
The faces of the royal couple were dumbfounded as they listened to Bjorn's calm answer.
"I'm taking Miss Hardy with me. I'm only providing temporary assistance due to circumstances that have arisen. I'll be sorting things out soon, so don't worry, Your Majesty."
Even before them, lost in thought, Bjorn remained calm. He seemed utterly incredulous that he had secretly abducted the very girl he'd been involved in a scandal with, creating the chaos that led to a missing person's report being filed with the police.
Without saying who would go first, the two people who faced each other let out the same sigh.
The moment he heard the police chief's report, he knew Bjorn couldn't have committed such a heinous crime. What worried the King was this: his son's unwillingness to drag the girl beyond the line of reason, thus burning the bridge to his own escape.
In a police station teeming with reporters scouting for scoops, there's no way this could remain a secret forever. It'll leak out somehow, and the drooling pack of wild dogs will be thrilled and tear their prey to pieces.
What could possibly justify taking all these risks and stealing Erna Hardy?
No. That didn't matter anymore. What shocked him was the fact that none other than Bjorn, that ruthless and cold-blooded fellow, had committed such an outrageous act.
"Organize?"
Philip Dneister, who was asking in astonishment, ended up bursting into laughter.
Be had no idea.
Even in the face of the Queen's message that Bjorn seemed to have a special interest in the daughter of the Hardy family, and even in the face of the suggestion that he should allow the two to marry if he truly desired it, and even in the face of the scandal that was causing a stir throughout Letzen, he maintained an attitude of "no way."
Surely Bjorn would have liked a girl like that.
But that self-deceptive belief had now worn thin. Based on the reality unfolding before his eyes, there was only one conclusion he could draw: the Queen was right.
"Honey."
The Queen's affectionate voice woke him from his despair.
Is this really the best?
As if answering the question he had posed with his eyes, his wife nodded slowly. She was the very same Isabelle Dneister, a wise Queen and a loving mother. There was no way she would make a decision that would harm Bjorn, her most vulnerable finger.
He couldn't understand Bjorn, and he didn't like the Hardy family's daughter, but he trusted his wife, who had been a wonderful companion throughout his life. She always had, and always would.
'I now know that the young lady is a decent woman, contrary to the rumors. But, my dear, that doesn't change the fact that the Hardy family is beyond redemption.'
The day his wife first brought up the subject of Bjorn and Young Lady Hardy's marriage, he retorted with a pensive expression. His wife, staring blankly at him, smiled and asked back.
"Do you really think that Your Majesty's son, who even at such a young age had the experienced King of Lars in his grasp, would be unable to properly handle a single foolish and greedy noble?"
The conversation that night, which ultimately yielded no answer, erased his last hesitation.
In any case, this was the girl who moved Bjorn's heart, who had never shown any personal interest even to the perfect Gladys. If he had missed this opportunity, he might have spent the rest of his life alone.
Should I see that sight or accept an unpleasant daughter-in-law?
If you had to choose between the two, the answer was already decided.
“Yes. Clean up.”
Philip Dneister commanded, his face a stern monarch. Bjorn met him with narrowed eyes, as if to say he didn't understand.
“If that is what you want, I will grant you permission to visit Miss Hardy.”
"...Father?"
Bjorn, who had been dazed for a moment, laughed and called out to him. But Philip Dneister's expression, as he gazed at his bewildered son, was colder and solemn than ever.
“Get married.”
He gave another strong command to his son, who was just laughing.
"Let's get you married to Miss Hardy. That seems like the perfect arrangement for now, Bjorn."
***
As the doctor departed after completing his examination, a heavy silence descended. Madame Fitz, who had stayed by Erna's side for several days to nurse her, had returned to the palace with the Prince, leaving Erna alone in the townhouse.
After staring blankly into space for a while, Erna began pacing around the bedroom, clutching the hem of her shawl. Her body, still recovering, ached, but she felt too anxious to sit still.
Just as he was about to reject the absurd proposal, Bjorn heard the royal command and went straight back to the palace.
'I'll be back soon.'
He said, looking at the surprised Erna.
'Wait.'
He smiled casually and left the house without even hearing Erna's response.
I'll give you money.
Thinking of those insulting words, she wanted to leave immediately. To a place where she could never see that man again. Far away. Very far away. But wait. The afterimage of those last words made Erna unable to bear the bitterness.
Being insulted didn't make him any less of a benefactor.
On that chilling, dreary night, when she felt as if the whole world had abandoned her, the Prince had undoubtedly become Erna's savior. The memory of that moment, when he approached her as she sat on the rain-soaked road, their eyes locked, bringing with her conflicting emotions of shame and relief, still lingered vividly in a corner of her mind.
As her dizziness grew worse and she could no longer control her body, Erna approached the window chair. The sunset spreading across the western sky, painting Erna, sitting serenely, looking down at the street like a still life, and the tightly packed old trunk, crimson.
After expressing her refusal and gratitude to him for his time, let's go find Pavel. If he hasn't returned yet, leave him a letter and return to Burford.
Even as she meticulously laid out the order of her work, Erna's gaze never left the street visible through the window. The shadows of the lengthening evening drifted dizzily across the busy streets.
***
The officer did not come until the new day dawned.
Pavel, deciding he couldn't just wait around, hurriedly prepared to head to the police station as soon as morning came. Two elderly ladies from Burford were with him.
"Is this how cruel a city really is, Pavel? Treating our Erna like she's nothing more than a speck of dust. I can't stand it!"
Baroness Baden stared at the imposing building of the police station with eyes swollen from crying.
“There must have been a moment of confusion because so many things were happening, Baroness.”
Pavel's face, trying hard to offer words of comfort, was equally stiff with anger that could not be hidden well.
“I’ll be back soon, so you two can wait here.”
Pavel seated Baroness Baden and Madame Greve on a bench in the police station hallway. It seemed impossible to bring these two elderly women, who burst into tears at the mere mention of Erna's name, to the police station.
Pavel, repeatedly reminded to wait there, hurried to the missing persons unit. Clearly, something was wrong; he was determined to confess everything and cooperate with the investigation. However, the officer broke Pavel's resolve with the absurd statement that the Erna Hardy disappearance case was already closed.
"Look, young man. That girl isn't missing. Look at this."
The officer even showed the investigation log to Pavel, who was still unsure of his whereabouts. True to his word, the case was closed. The reason given was a family error resulting in a false report. Even seeing it for himself, it was hard to believe.
“That can’t be true! Erna is definitely...”
“Is this the case of the noble lady you heard about?”
Just as Pavel was about to refute, another officer suddenly intervened.
"Look at this. I knew this would happen. Nine out of ten cases like this happen."
He chuckled, throwing the newspaper he was holding in one hand onto the officer's desk. Pavel, about to protest the rudeness, was silenced by the provocative headline on the front page of the newspaper he'd casually glanced at.
The missing daughter of the Hardy family turns out to be living with the Grand Duke.
He couldn't believe it, so he read it again several times, and it was the same.
Pavel snatched the tabloid paper away in horror. As he read each line of the sleazy article, his hands began to tremble more and more. The police station hallway erupted in commotion when Pavel's gaze landed on the last line of the article.
“Something terrible has happened! The old lady has collapsed!”
A panicked scream echoed through the crowd.
Pavel, pale and terrified, threw down his newspaper and ran into the hallway. Squeezing through the crowd of people surrounding the benches, he saw Baroness Baden collapse, clutching her chest, and Madame Greve weeping beside her.
A newspaper lay scattered beside the Baroness. It was the tabloid Pavel had seen earlier.
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