40. Fallen Lady
Pavel's house was empty again today.
Erna, frowning, stared at the tightly shut front door and knocked again with all her might. The wind made her feel dizzy and sway, but thankfully, she didn't fall. She did, however, avoid the unfortunate fate of losing her trunk and sending it tumbling down the stairs.
Erna sighed softly and took the letter from her cloak pocket, wedging it between the cracks in the door. Slowly, carefully avoiding tripping, she descended the stairs and collected her trunk.
"Ah..."
Erna let go of the trunk she'd half-raised and let out a desperate sigh. The already flimsy handle had broken. That was all, but for some reason, she felt a surge of frustration and sorrow.
Erna, who had been tightly shut for a count of ten, opened her eyes and began dragging the dangling trunk, leaning it against the stair railing. She examined it carefully, hoping to find a fix, but one of the links was completely broken, seemingly beyond repair.
Erna, who had been looking at the closed door and the street with her eyes wide open, sat down weakly at the end of the stairs leading to the entrance.
She set out, mentally prepared, but there was no way she could have prepared for the unexpected event of a broken trunk. So, no matter how much she urged herself to think, her mind remained blank.
He never came back.
As Erna lowered her head to avoid the gazes of passersby, memories of last night suddenly came to mind.
The long wait dragged on, night falling and passing. In fact, as dusk began to fall, she had a vague premonition that he wouldn't return. Yet, as she suddenly realized she was pacing in front of the window, unable to sleep, Erna made up her mind. It was time to truly leave this city.
As her dizzy and dazed mind gradually cleared, Erna stood up from the stairs.
“Erna!”
As she was determined to drive to the station, even if it meant carrying the trunk, a man's voice, loud enough to resonate through the street, rang out. Erna jumped in surprise and spun around. It was Pavel, the face she'd expected.
“Pavel! You were in Schwerin!”
A smile spread across Erna's face. Relief that Pavel was safe outweighed the resentment of breaking his promise. But Pavel, his face hardened, seemed furious, and he rushed over to Erna, grabbing her wrist.
“What on earth is going on?”
“What’s wrong, Pavel? What happened?”
“First of all, yes... First, go to the hospital.”
Pavel struggled to suppress his emotions and gasped for breath. He had countless things to say and hear, but Baroness Baden was more important than anything else right now.
“You, your face...”
Pavel frowned involuntarily as he faced Erna, who had raised her head. Faint bruises and scars were etched across her bloodless face. There were traces of the same violence that had previously enraged him.
“Did that man touch you again? Is that why this happened?”
“I’ll tell you that story later. First, you tell me.”
Erna's eyes darkened as if seized by an ominous premonition.
“Why are you going to the hospital? What’s going on?”
"Don't be alarmed, listen, Erna. Baroness Baden is in the hospital right now. She collapsed from shock, and I think her heart was damaged."
As expected, Pavel supported Erna, who was staggering.
“So let’s go. First, we have to go to Grandma, Erna!”
“I guess I was born in the wrong era.”
That was the conclusion Bjorn reached after reading the tabloid the attendant had brought him. After skimming through it briefly, he placed it down at the edge of the billiards table. It contained a photo of him that still looked quite good today. That alone was still commendable.
"We should have lived in a time of moderate savagery. A time when you could blow off the balls of annoying bastards at will without any problems."
Bjorn aimed the cue ball with the choker-polished cue. The ivory ball rolled in a clean line, hitting the exact spot he had aimed for. The smile on Bjorn's face was as refreshing as the crisp sound of the impact. His expression was completely different from the words he was uttering.
Rage, shock, and then bewilderment flashed across Leonid's face as he glanced at the newspaper he had casually tossed aside. It was a dirty, provocative scandal, enough to make Bjorn guess who the bastard was that wanted to blow his balls off.
"Are you done? Your writing skills are improving. I'm looking forward to the next episode."
“I think these cheap media outlets need to be sanctioned.”
“Should I buy it?”
Bjorn put down his cue and grabbed the glass on the table. The sound of ice clinking against crystal resonated clearly.
"Thanks to me, they get gossip, sales go up, and I'm practically supporting them. It'd be less frustrating if I could become the owner and share in the profits."
“Bjorn.”
“It’s your turn.”
Bjorn winked at Leonid.
Crazy guy.
Leonid, muttering quietly to himself, reluctantly picked up the cue. Even though he wasn't even half of his usual skill, the game was going in Bjorn's favor.
When he came running in surprise at his mother's announcement that she had given permission for his marriage to Erna Hardy, Bjorn smiled innocently and chattered about playing billiards.
Despite his bewilderment, Leonid agreed to the outrageous proposal. He remembered him saying the same thing to him on the day news of his divorce from Gladys rocked the nation. Leonid failed to perform as well that day, and Bjorn ultimately emerged victorious.
Leonid, who had been watching Bjorn smile as if his victory in a seemingly insignificant game were some kind of grand achievement, finally burst into tears. Unable to suppress the anger and sadness brought on by the unbelievable reality,
'You don't have to cry over losing a game of billiards.'
In contrast to that carefree joke, Bjorn's hand patting his shoulder was gentle.
That day, the two brothers sat side by side at the billiards table until sunset, gazing out the window at the scenery. It was late spring, with flowers in full bloom, swaying in the wind.
“Are you getting married?”
Leonid, who had already lost interest in the game where the odds were already tilted, looked at Bjorn with a rather serious look in his eyes.
"it's crazy?"
Bjorn chuckled mischievously, but Leonid's expression didn't change at all. The more complicated his mind became, the more frivolous and lighthearted he became. That was the twin brother Leonid knew. Then, and now.
Just like that day, the game ended with Bjorn's victory.
After finishing his remaining drink, Bjorn sat down on the billiard table and looked at the setting sun.
It was this morning, under the shower, that he remembered the promise he'd made to the woman he'd forgotten because of the bomb his father had dropped. Determined to bring things to a proper end and erase her presence from his life, Bjorn hurried to the townhouse. Erna had already vanished.
On the bedroom table remained a letter the woman had left behind. It was a very polite, formal note, expressing gratitude for the past few days and saying she didn't need any money.
Despite his irritating attitude, Bjorn decided to leave it alone. He could simply deliver the money through messengers. There was no need to bother seeking out a woman. He felt relieved that she had finally left, free from further headaches.
Marriage?
His father's absurd order was dissipated by the smoke of a cigar he smoked while leaning against the window of the bedroom where the woman was staying.
It was certainly a mistake to not have anticipated that the woman's family would escalate the situation by filing a missing person report. But hadn't she been returning to a remote rural village anyway? It was too far from the hustle and bustle of the city.
Anyway, it will soon die down, and the woman's life will return to her original course.
Finally, dusting off the ash from his cigar, Bjorn concluded neatly.
"Bjorn. I hope you meet a good woman. A woman good enough to erase all the hurt Gladys gave you."
Leonid, who had been staring blankly at him, started talking like an old man.
"That's why I hate Miss Hardy. I don't know what father and mother think, but that's what I mean."
“Are you drunk, Your Highness?”
Even though Bjorn frowned slightly, Leonid showed no sign of backing down. Madame Fitz's face, appearing at that moment, couldn't have been more welcoming.
“I, Prince. Miss Hardy...”
She trailed off, seemingly embarrassed. Leonid's presence seemed to bother her.
“Speak, Madam Fitz.”
Bjorn gave a cool command. With the news about the woman already settled, there was nothing left to keep secret.
“Miss Hardy is now at the Royal Hospital Schwerin.”
"Hospital?"
Bjorn's voice made him shiver. Leonid, too, looked perplexed.
Madam Fitz paused for a moment before the two Princes' cold gazes, swallowed dryly, and continued speaking.
"Yes. Baroness Baden collapsed at the police station this morning and was taken to the hospital. Miss Hardy is currently caring for her grandmother there."
“You’re fallen. You’re fallen.”
That was all Baroness Baden could say, having witnessed her granddaughter's unbelievable appearance. Her bare hand, stroking her throbbing forehead, trembled weakly.
Startled by this sight, Erna abruptly rose from her chair and checked Baroness Baden's breathing and temperature. Her gentle, affectionate demeanor was unmistakably Erna.
"Don't get excited, Grandma. You heard what the doctor said."
“Is that the kind of face a kid who knows so well has?”
Baroness Baden scrutinized her displeased granddaughter with narrowed eyes. Her face, adorned with a snobbish, snobbish, and rouge, was unbelievable, no matter how she looked at it. Ever since she regained consciousness, Erna had been at her sickbed in this state.
"It's a city fad, Grandma. It's the latest trend."
"Trend? My goodness. This vulgar city has finally corrupted you!"
Erna's calm babbling of words she thought she would never utter deepened her sorrow.
Erna explained that the incident with the Grand Duke was a false rumor, that she had merely been hanging out with friends she had made here for a few days, and that there had been a minor misunderstanding. Her flimsy lie, so flimsy it could fool even a child, only served to bolster the credibility of the rumor.
Obsessed with trends, she consorted with unwholesome crowds, and to top it all off, she even ended up staying at a man's house. Seeing her granddaughter struggling with that evil Prince, of all people, made the Baroness sigh deeply. It was a belated regret, a lament that she should never have sent her here.
“I just want to rest.”
Baroness Baden shook her head and whispered in a weary voice.
It was a joyous miracle that Erna, whom she'd thought was missing, had reappeared like this. But when she thought of the scandal with the prodigal Prince and her shocking appearance, she couldn't help but feel a pang of sadness. It was the first emotional rift between the two, a rift that had been brewing for days.
“Yes, Grandma.”
Erna, who had been staring at her blankly, nodded obediently.
“Get some rest. I’ll wake you up when it’s time to eat.”
Erna, having finally given up her seat to Madame Greve, quietly left the hospital room. She walked briskly to the end of the hallway and stood before the window overlooking the hospital courtyard. A deep, suppressed sigh escaped her lips.
After a long while, she raised her head and saw her own face reflected in the window. It was an unfamiliar face, poorly made up to hide her wounds, and even Erna looked unsightly.
Pavel's house was empty again today.
Erna, frowning, stared at the tightly shut front door and knocked again with all her might. The wind made her feel dizzy and sway, but thankfully, she didn't fall. She did, however, avoid the unfortunate fate of losing her trunk and sending it tumbling down the stairs.
Erna sighed softly and took the letter from her cloak pocket, wedging it between the cracks in the door. Slowly, carefully avoiding tripping, she descended the stairs and collected her trunk.
"Ah..."
Erna let go of the trunk she'd half-raised and let out a desperate sigh. The already flimsy handle had broken. That was all, but for some reason, she felt a surge of frustration and sorrow.
Erna, who had been tightly shut for a count of ten, opened her eyes and began dragging the dangling trunk, leaning it against the stair railing. She examined it carefully, hoping to find a fix, but one of the links was completely broken, seemingly beyond repair.
Erna, who had been looking at the closed door and the street with her eyes wide open, sat down weakly at the end of the stairs leading to the entrance.
She set out, mentally prepared, but there was no way she could have prepared for the unexpected event of a broken trunk. So, no matter how much she urged herself to think, her mind remained blank.
He never came back.
As Erna lowered her head to avoid the gazes of passersby, memories of last night suddenly came to mind.
The long wait dragged on, night falling and passing. In fact, as dusk began to fall, she had a vague premonition that he wouldn't return. Yet, as she suddenly realized she was pacing in front of the window, unable to sleep, Erna made up her mind. It was time to truly leave this city.
As her dizzy and dazed mind gradually cleared, Erna stood up from the stairs.
“Erna!”
As she was determined to drive to the station, even if it meant carrying the trunk, a man's voice, loud enough to resonate through the street, rang out. Erna jumped in surprise and spun around. It was Pavel, the face she'd expected.
“Pavel! You were in Schwerin!”
A smile spread across Erna's face. Relief that Pavel was safe outweighed the resentment of breaking his promise. But Pavel, his face hardened, seemed furious, and he rushed over to Erna, grabbing her wrist.
“What on earth is going on?”
“What’s wrong, Pavel? What happened?”
“First of all, yes... First, go to the hospital.”
Pavel struggled to suppress his emotions and gasped for breath. He had countless things to say and hear, but Baroness Baden was more important than anything else right now.
“You, your face...”
Pavel frowned involuntarily as he faced Erna, who had raised her head. Faint bruises and scars were etched across her bloodless face. There were traces of the same violence that had previously enraged him.
“Did that man touch you again? Is that why this happened?”
“I’ll tell you that story later. First, you tell me.”
Erna's eyes darkened as if seized by an ominous premonition.
“Why are you going to the hospital? What’s going on?”
"Don't be alarmed, listen, Erna. Baroness Baden is in the hospital right now. She collapsed from shock, and I think her heart was damaged."
As expected, Pavel supported Erna, who was staggering.
“So let’s go. First, we have to go to Grandma, Erna!”
***
“I guess I was born in the wrong era.”
That was the conclusion Bjorn reached after reading the tabloid the attendant had brought him. After skimming through it briefly, he placed it down at the edge of the billiards table. It contained a photo of him that still looked quite good today. That alone was still commendable.
"We should have lived in a time of moderate savagery. A time when you could blow off the balls of annoying bastards at will without any problems."
Bjorn aimed the cue ball with the choker-polished cue. The ivory ball rolled in a clean line, hitting the exact spot he had aimed for. The smile on Bjorn's face was as refreshing as the crisp sound of the impact. His expression was completely different from the words he was uttering.
Rage, shock, and then bewilderment flashed across Leonid's face as he glanced at the newspaper he had casually tossed aside. It was a dirty, provocative scandal, enough to make Bjorn guess who the bastard was that wanted to blow his balls off.
"Are you done? Your writing skills are improving. I'm looking forward to the next episode."
“I think these cheap media outlets need to be sanctioned.”
“Should I buy it?”
Bjorn put down his cue and grabbed the glass on the table. The sound of ice clinking against crystal resonated clearly.
"Thanks to me, they get gossip, sales go up, and I'm practically supporting them. It'd be less frustrating if I could become the owner and share in the profits."
“Bjorn.”
“It’s your turn.”
Bjorn winked at Leonid.
Crazy guy.
Leonid, muttering quietly to himself, reluctantly picked up the cue. Even though he wasn't even half of his usual skill, the game was going in Bjorn's favor.
When he came running in surprise at his mother's announcement that she had given permission for his marriage to Erna Hardy, Bjorn smiled innocently and chattered about playing billiards.
Despite his bewilderment, Leonid agreed to the outrageous proposal. He remembered him saying the same thing to him on the day news of his divorce from Gladys rocked the nation. Leonid failed to perform as well that day, and Bjorn ultimately emerged victorious.
Leonid, who had been watching Bjorn smile as if his victory in a seemingly insignificant game were some kind of grand achievement, finally burst into tears. Unable to suppress the anger and sadness brought on by the unbelievable reality,
'You don't have to cry over losing a game of billiards.'
In contrast to that carefree joke, Bjorn's hand patting his shoulder was gentle.
That day, the two brothers sat side by side at the billiards table until sunset, gazing out the window at the scenery. It was late spring, with flowers in full bloom, swaying in the wind.
“Are you getting married?”
Leonid, who had already lost interest in the game where the odds were already tilted, looked at Bjorn with a rather serious look in his eyes.
"it's crazy?"
Bjorn chuckled mischievously, but Leonid's expression didn't change at all. The more complicated his mind became, the more frivolous and lighthearted he became. That was the twin brother Leonid knew. Then, and now.
Just like that day, the game ended with Bjorn's victory.
After finishing his remaining drink, Bjorn sat down on the billiard table and looked at the setting sun.
It was this morning, under the shower, that he remembered the promise he'd made to the woman he'd forgotten because of the bomb his father had dropped. Determined to bring things to a proper end and erase her presence from his life, Bjorn hurried to the townhouse. Erna had already vanished.
On the bedroom table remained a letter the woman had left behind. It was a very polite, formal note, expressing gratitude for the past few days and saying she didn't need any money.
Despite his irritating attitude, Bjorn decided to leave it alone. He could simply deliver the money through messengers. There was no need to bother seeking out a woman. He felt relieved that she had finally left, free from further headaches.
Marriage?
His father's absurd order was dissipated by the smoke of a cigar he smoked while leaning against the window of the bedroom where the woman was staying.
It was certainly a mistake to not have anticipated that the woman's family would escalate the situation by filing a missing person report. But hadn't she been returning to a remote rural village anyway? It was too far from the hustle and bustle of the city.
Anyway, it will soon die down, and the woman's life will return to her original course.
Finally, dusting off the ash from his cigar, Bjorn concluded neatly.
"Bjorn. I hope you meet a good woman. A woman good enough to erase all the hurt Gladys gave you."
Leonid, who had been staring blankly at him, started talking like an old man.
"That's why I hate Miss Hardy. I don't know what father and mother think, but that's what I mean."
“Are you drunk, Your Highness?”
Even though Bjorn frowned slightly, Leonid showed no sign of backing down. Madame Fitz's face, appearing at that moment, couldn't have been more welcoming.
“I, Prince. Miss Hardy...”
She trailed off, seemingly embarrassed. Leonid's presence seemed to bother her.
“Speak, Madam Fitz.”
Bjorn gave a cool command. With the news about the woman already settled, there was nothing left to keep secret.
“Miss Hardy is now at the Royal Hospital Schwerin.”
"Hospital?"
Bjorn's voice made him shiver. Leonid, too, looked perplexed.
Madam Fitz paused for a moment before the two Princes' cold gazes, swallowed dryly, and continued speaking.
"Yes. Baroness Baden collapsed at the police station this morning and was taken to the hospital. Miss Hardy is currently caring for her grandmother there."
***
“You’re fallen. You’re fallen.”
That was all Baroness Baden could say, having witnessed her granddaughter's unbelievable appearance. Her bare hand, stroking her throbbing forehead, trembled weakly.
Startled by this sight, Erna abruptly rose from her chair and checked Baroness Baden's breathing and temperature. Her gentle, affectionate demeanor was unmistakably Erna.
"Don't get excited, Grandma. You heard what the doctor said."
“Is that the kind of face a kid who knows so well has?”
Baroness Baden scrutinized her displeased granddaughter with narrowed eyes. Her face, adorned with a snobbish, snobbish, and rouge, was unbelievable, no matter how she looked at it. Ever since she regained consciousness, Erna had been at her sickbed in this state.
"It's a city fad, Grandma. It's the latest trend."
"Trend? My goodness. This vulgar city has finally corrupted you!"
Erna's calm babbling of words she thought she would never utter deepened her sorrow.
Erna explained that the incident with the Grand Duke was a false rumor, that she had merely been hanging out with friends she had made here for a few days, and that there had been a minor misunderstanding. Her flimsy lie, so flimsy it could fool even a child, only served to bolster the credibility of the rumor.
Obsessed with trends, she consorted with unwholesome crowds, and to top it all off, she even ended up staying at a man's house. Seeing her granddaughter struggling with that evil Prince, of all people, made the Baroness sigh deeply. It was a belated regret, a lament that she should never have sent her here.
“I just want to rest.”
Baroness Baden shook her head and whispered in a weary voice.
It was a joyous miracle that Erna, whom she'd thought was missing, had reappeared like this. But when she thought of the scandal with the prodigal Prince and her shocking appearance, she couldn't help but feel a pang of sadness. It was the first emotional rift between the two, a rift that had been brewing for days.
“Yes, Grandma.”
Erna, who had been staring at her blankly, nodded obediently.
“Get some rest. I’ll wake you up when it’s time to eat.”
Erna, having finally given up her seat to Madame Greve, quietly left the hospital room. She walked briskly to the end of the hallway and stood before the window overlooking the hospital courtyard. A deep, suppressed sigh escaped her lips.
After a long while, she raised her head and saw her own face reflected in the window. It was an unfamiliar face, poorly made up to hide her wounds, and even Erna looked unsightly.
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