67. Five Snowmen
Bjorn left. It was early in the morning, the day before her birthday.
Erna, who had been excited by the sight of her husband waking up early and starting the day, stared at Bjorn, who was sitting at the table, dumbfounded. He already seemed ready to leave.
“So... you’re going hunting with the Princes of Pelia? From today until tomorrow?”
Even as she said it with her own mouth, Erna couldn't believe it.
"Yes."
Bjorn's words, delivered with a light nod, were so easy.
“Didn’t I tell you?”
“No. It’s the first time I heard it this morning.”
"Yes?"
Bjorn quickly took his gaze from Erna and moved it to the newspaper in his hand.
Reading newspapers or reports during meals was one of Bjorn's habits. Erna hated the way their limited time together was wasted like that. It was a feeling she couldn't express.
“When will you be back tomorrow?”
Erna, who was fiddling with her teacup nervously, asked in a voice that could not suppress her anxiety.
No way. You promised. No way.
“I won’t be late.”
Bjorn smiled as he folded the newspaper.
“The hunt ends today anyway. Maybe tomorrow lunchtime at the latest?”
The gaze he held for Erna was as gentle as his smile. Moments like these truly felt like lovers. True lovers who deeply loved each other.
Erna sighed in relief, smiled, and nodded. Most of the social gatherings Bjorn attended during his travels were official affairs. Erna had learned this over the past two months, and she didn't want to complain unnecessarily.
No longer distracted by the newspaper, Bjorn looked at Erna more often than usual and shared many stories. Thanks to those warm and affectionate moments, Erna gained confidence.
He hasn't forgotten.
Although his schedule had become complicated due to the Prince's duties, she decided not to feel bad. It was only for one day. Erna's face brightened again as she thought about spending her birthday with Bjorn, who had returned.
“Your Highness, this is an urgent telegram.”
As the meal drew to a close, a servant arrived with a telegram. The quiet conversation between the two men permeated the peaceful breakfast room.
Erna set down her teacup, her hands neatly folded on her lap, and turned to look at Bjorn, who was sitting at an angle. Her eyes, observing her husband's hunting attire for the first time, were filled with a newfound curiosity.
From the red jacket to the black boots, Erna's gaze, moving slowly, lingered on Bjorn's hand as he handed the servant a note. It was a moment of sudden courage.
“Bjorn. I have something I want to receive.”
As the attendant with the note departed, Erna lowered her voice to a whisper. Bjorn nodded, as if to suggest she speak. It was intriguing to see this unexpected reaction from a woman who rarely displayed such greed.
“It’s a letter.”
"Letter?"
"Yes."
The ribbon that decorated her hair, which was rolled up into a bun, swayed with the nod of her head.
“Tomorrow, please write me just one letter. I’ll treasure it.”
He was wondering if she was asking for something so grand, but she said something strange and insignificant.
Bjorn, who had been quietly watching his wife, gave a brief smile before standing up from the table. It was almost time to leave.
“Bjorn, that letter...”
"If you have something to say, just say it, Erna. That'll do."
Bjorn cut Erna off with a tone that sounded like a child's soothing words. It wasn't harsh or cold, but it was a tone that made her even more embarrassed.
“But... words and letters are different.”
It took all the courage Erna had to add that one word. Bjorn stopped walking, sighed deeply, and turned around.
“Why do I need to convey my thoughts through a letter when I see you every day?”
"That..."
While Erna hesitated, unable to find a suitable reason, Bjorn took a step closer.
“I’ll be back.”
Bjorn greeted her with a smile that quickly returned to his face. He even gave her his usual kiss.
In front of her affectionate husband, who showed no sign of discomfort, Erna suddenly felt infinitely small and pitiful. She felt like a child. A child who had thrown a tantrum and been scolded.
Erna nodded, unable to press any further. Bjorn smiled at the child like an adult who loved her, then strode briskly across the hall and boarded the waiting carriage.
Resisting the urge to rush to her room, Erna saw her husband off as usual. She gave him a calm greeting and remained at the front door until the carriage pulled away. After much deliberation, she decided not to offer a wave.
It was her last bit of pride.
As soon as the gunfire stopped, the hunting dogs began to run.
The two Princes of Pelia and Bjorn turned their horses in the direction the dogs had run. The sound of hooves clattering across the dry, grassy field stopped at the entrance to the forest path where the hounds had gathered. A shot hare lay in their midst.
While the servants gathered the captured prey, the three Princes entered the forest path. The knights, bewildered by the sudden change in direction, quickly regained their composure. The once tranquil winter forest began to stir with the bustling movements of the knights, rushing to herd their prey.
“I was planning to visit Schwerin for the opening ceremony of the spring fair, but I am so happy to have met you here in Pelia first.”
Crown Prince Maxim was the first to initiate the conversation. Judging by the useless exchange of greetings, it seemed he was about to get down to business.
"I feel the same way. It's an even greater joy for me to have the honor of witnessing the skills of these sharpshooters."
Bjorn's demeanor was exceedingly polite and gentle. The two princes, who had hunted for a long time and yet had only managed a pitiful harvest of two pheasants and three rabbits, twitched their lips, and Bjorn's smile grew even brighter.
"Negotiations for the issuance of new bonds between the two countries. Prince Björn is leading the effort, I believe."
Prince Maxim, looking at the eagle and wolf flags fluttering in unison, steeled his resolve and got to the point.
Although they were bitter enemies, calling each other "mad dogs" and "bald eagles," they also had a long history of uniting as if nothing had happened when a common enemy arose. These were precisely the times when emerging powers were allying with each other to check the established powers. While it might be a blow to pride, appropriating Letzen's funds was paramount to resolving Pelia's fiscal deficit.
“That’s the Minister of Finance’s job. I’m just.”
Bjorn suddenly stopped his horse and raised his shotgun. A pheasant, startled by the noise, fell to the ground, and the hunting dogs began barking loudly again.
“We are enjoying our honeymoon.”
Bjorn smiled at them as if nothing had happened. He was utterly shameless, even though he knew that information about who controlled the Letzen delegation's purse strings was widely known across the continent.
"But the Pelia royal family announced a forced conversion of interest rates on national bonds. They're even imposing new taxes on securities."
What was particularly unfortunate about Bjorn Dneister was that he had no intention of hiding his true colors on such a topic.
The two Princes of Pelia began to coordinate their opinions, exchanging secret glances. Just as Crown Prince Maxim was about to open his mouth, the hunted prey appeared: a frightened fawn.
The Crown Prince instinctively stopped his younger brother, who was already raising his gun, and pointed towards Bjorn. The Prince, realizing what he meant, quickly lowered his gun, but for some reason, Bjorn's gunshot remained unheard. He simply stared blankly down at the deer, completely disinterested in the hunt.
Crown Prince Maxim, who had been giving him a puzzled look, raised his gun. Bjorn raised a hand. It was a clear gesture of dissuade. Meanwhile, a large deer, likely a mother, appeared on the roadside. It seemed to be searching for its fawn, driven to its death. While everyone was dumbfounded and silent, the fawn staggered toward its mother.
As the mother deer fled deep into the forest with her young, Bjorn simply watched. At first glance, it seemed like a kind prince showing mercy to the young beast, but to those familiar with the mad dog of Letzen, it was a chilling sight, as if they couldn't fathom what was behind it.
“Aren’t you going to catch it?”
To Maxim's question, Bjorn nodded without hesitation.
“Yes. It’s cute.”
The smile on his lips was as warm as the spring sunshine, deepening the fear of those watching.
Deer. What on earth does a baby deer mean?
Since I run, is it right to build a railroad? Or, since I live in the forest, is it the right to log?
The two Princes' eyes, agonizing over their decision, wavered. Bjorn, unfazed, began to ride again.
“Don’t touch the deer.”
Crown Prince Pelia, unable to reach a proper conclusion, relayed the order first. His lips, straining to follow Bjorn, were twisted by the weight of a curse he couldn't bring himself to utter.
I really hate that crazy dog. That crazy dog is like a pervert.
Only after building five snowmen did Erna finally let go of her foolishness. It was a winter afternoon, and the snow that had fallen since morning had stopped.
Erna gazed, expressionless, at the adorable snowmen lining the balcony railing. She'd made them one by one each time she hovered over the balcony, hoping Bjorn might return.
Celebrating her birthday alone, unknown to anyone, felt a little lonely, but still, Erna was thrilled. The beautiful snow was falling, like a gift from heaven, and Bjorn would soon return. Even though she couldn't receive letters, the mere thought of being able to climb the cathedral dome together filled her heart with joy.
But in the end, it turned out like this.
Erna looked at her own reddened hands, the five snowmen, and the snow-covered landscape in succession. Perhaps thanks to the disappearance of her lingering regrets, the sadness that had persisted all day long had vanished.
Bjorn doesn't come, and I'm alone.
Accepting that fact calmly once again, Erna was finally able to turn around. It seemed ridiculous to tell anyone now, so it seemed she'd have to spend her twentieth birthday alone.
It was late afternoon when Erna, who had been sitting idly before the fireplace, impulsively rose and prepared to go out. The attendants, excited by the rare day of rest, failed to notice the Grand Duchess's presence as she quietly disappeared like smoke.
Erna, who had safely exited the main gate of the guest house, looked up at the cloudy sky with calm eyes.
Last year, on this day, she remembered the birthday party she'd had with her family. The fireplace glowed warmly, and the table was filled with delicious food. Erna finally realized how happy she'd been then.
Erna, who had been standing there for a while, rubbed her reddened eyes hard and then began to walk along the snow-covered road.
Bjorn left. It was early in the morning, the day before her birthday.
Erna, who had been excited by the sight of her husband waking up early and starting the day, stared at Bjorn, who was sitting at the table, dumbfounded. He already seemed ready to leave.
“So... you’re going hunting with the Princes of Pelia? From today until tomorrow?”
Even as she said it with her own mouth, Erna couldn't believe it.
"Yes."
Bjorn's words, delivered with a light nod, were so easy.
“Didn’t I tell you?”
“No. It’s the first time I heard it this morning.”
"Yes?"
Bjorn quickly took his gaze from Erna and moved it to the newspaper in his hand.
Reading newspapers or reports during meals was one of Bjorn's habits. Erna hated the way their limited time together was wasted like that. It was a feeling she couldn't express.
“When will you be back tomorrow?”
Erna, who was fiddling with her teacup nervously, asked in a voice that could not suppress her anxiety.
No way. You promised. No way.
“I won’t be late.”
Bjorn smiled as he folded the newspaper.
“The hunt ends today anyway. Maybe tomorrow lunchtime at the latest?”
The gaze he held for Erna was as gentle as his smile. Moments like these truly felt like lovers. True lovers who deeply loved each other.
Erna sighed in relief, smiled, and nodded. Most of the social gatherings Bjorn attended during his travels were official affairs. Erna had learned this over the past two months, and she didn't want to complain unnecessarily.
No longer distracted by the newspaper, Bjorn looked at Erna more often than usual and shared many stories. Thanks to those warm and affectionate moments, Erna gained confidence.
He hasn't forgotten.
Although his schedule had become complicated due to the Prince's duties, she decided not to feel bad. It was only for one day. Erna's face brightened again as she thought about spending her birthday with Bjorn, who had returned.
“Your Highness, this is an urgent telegram.”
As the meal drew to a close, a servant arrived with a telegram. The quiet conversation between the two men permeated the peaceful breakfast room.
Erna set down her teacup, her hands neatly folded on her lap, and turned to look at Bjorn, who was sitting at an angle. Her eyes, observing her husband's hunting attire for the first time, were filled with a newfound curiosity.
From the red jacket to the black boots, Erna's gaze, moving slowly, lingered on Bjorn's hand as he handed the servant a note. It was a moment of sudden courage.
“Bjorn. I have something I want to receive.”
As the attendant with the note departed, Erna lowered her voice to a whisper. Bjorn nodded, as if to suggest she speak. It was intriguing to see this unexpected reaction from a woman who rarely displayed such greed.
“It’s a letter.”
"Letter?"
"Yes."
The ribbon that decorated her hair, which was rolled up into a bun, swayed with the nod of her head.
“Tomorrow, please write me just one letter. I’ll treasure it.”
He was wondering if she was asking for something so grand, but she said something strange and insignificant.
Bjorn, who had been quietly watching his wife, gave a brief smile before standing up from the table. It was almost time to leave.
“Bjorn, that letter...”
"If you have something to say, just say it, Erna. That'll do."
Bjorn cut Erna off with a tone that sounded like a child's soothing words. It wasn't harsh or cold, but it was a tone that made her even more embarrassed.
“But... words and letters are different.”
It took all the courage Erna had to add that one word. Bjorn stopped walking, sighed deeply, and turned around.
“Why do I need to convey my thoughts through a letter when I see you every day?”
"That..."
While Erna hesitated, unable to find a suitable reason, Bjorn took a step closer.
“I’ll be back.”
Bjorn greeted her with a smile that quickly returned to his face. He even gave her his usual kiss.
In front of her affectionate husband, who showed no sign of discomfort, Erna suddenly felt infinitely small and pitiful. She felt like a child. A child who had thrown a tantrum and been scolded.
Erna nodded, unable to press any further. Bjorn smiled at the child like an adult who loved her, then strode briskly across the hall and boarded the waiting carriage.
Resisting the urge to rush to her room, Erna saw her husband off as usual. She gave him a calm greeting and remained at the front door until the carriage pulled away. After much deliberation, she decided not to offer a wave.
It was her last bit of pride.
***
As soon as the gunfire stopped, the hunting dogs began to run.
The two Princes of Pelia and Bjorn turned their horses in the direction the dogs had run. The sound of hooves clattering across the dry, grassy field stopped at the entrance to the forest path where the hounds had gathered. A shot hare lay in their midst.
While the servants gathered the captured prey, the three Princes entered the forest path. The knights, bewildered by the sudden change in direction, quickly regained their composure. The once tranquil winter forest began to stir with the bustling movements of the knights, rushing to herd their prey.
“I was planning to visit Schwerin for the opening ceremony of the spring fair, but I am so happy to have met you here in Pelia first.”
Crown Prince Maxim was the first to initiate the conversation. Judging by the useless exchange of greetings, it seemed he was about to get down to business.
"I feel the same way. It's an even greater joy for me to have the honor of witnessing the skills of these sharpshooters."
Bjorn's demeanor was exceedingly polite and gentle. The two princes, who had hunted for a long time and yet had only managed a pitiful harvest of two pheasants and three rabbits, twitched their lips, and Bjorn's smile grew even brighter.
"Negotiations for the issuance of new bonds between the two countries. Prince Björn is leading the effort, I believe."
Prince Maxim, looking at the eagle and wolf flags fluttering in unison, steeled his resolve and got to the point.
Although they were bitter enemies, calling each other "mad dogs" and "bald eagles," they also had a long history of uniting as if nothing had happened when a common enemy arose. These were precisely the times when emerging powers were allying with each other to check the established powers. While it might be a blow to pride, appropriating Letzen's funds was paramount to resolving Pelia's fiscal deficit.
“That’s the Minister of Finance’s job. I’m just.”
Bjorn suddenly stopped his horse and raised his shotgun. A pheasant, startled by the noise, fell to the ground, and the hunting dogs began barking loudly again.
“We are enjoying our honeymoon.”
Bjorn smiled at them as if nothing had happened. He was utterly shameless, even though he knew that information about who controlled the Letzen delegation's purse strings was widely known across the continent.
"But the Pelia royal family announced a forced conversion of interest rates on national bonds. They're even imposing new taxes on securities."
What was particularly unfortunate about Bjorn Dneister was that he had no intention of hiding his true colors on such a topic.
The two Princes of Pelia began to coordinate their opinions, exchanging secret glances. Just as Crown Prince Maxim was about to open his mouth, the hunted prey appeared: a frightened fawn.
The Crown Prince instinctively stopped his younger brother, who was already raising his gun, and pointed towards Bjorn. The Prince, realizing what he meant, quickly lowered his gun, but for some reason, Bjorn's gunshot remained unheard. He simply stared blankly down at the deer, completely disinterested in the hunt.
Crown Prince Maxim, who had been giving him a puzzled look, raised his gun. Bjorn raised a hand. It was a clear gesture of dissuade. Meanwhile, a large deer, likely a mother, appeared on the roadside. It seemed to be searching for its fawn, driven to its death. While everyone was dumbfounded and silent, the fawn staggered toward its mother.
As the mother deer fled deep into the forest with her young, Bjorn simply watched. At first glance, it seemed like a kind prince showing mercy to the young beast, but to those familiar with the mad dog of Letzen, it was a chilling sight, as if they couldn't fathom what was behind it.
“Aren’t you going to catch it?”
To Maxim's question, Bjorn nodded without hesitation.
“Yes. It’s cute.”
The smile on his lips was as warm as the spring sunshine, deepening the fear of those watching.
Deer. What on earth does a baby deer mean?
Since I run, is it right to build a railroad? Or, since I live in the forest, is it the right to log?
The two Princes' eyes, agonizing over their decision, wavered. Bjorn, unfazed, began to ride again.
“Don’t touch the deer.”
Crown Prince Pelia, unable to reach a proper conclusion, relayed the order first. His lips, straining to follow Bjorn, were twisted by the weight of a curse he couldn't bring himself to utter.
I really hate that crazy dog. That crazy dog is like a pervert.
***
Only after building five snowmen did Erna finally let go of her foolishness. It was a winter afternoon, and the snow that had fallen since morning had stopped.
Erna gazed, expressionless, at the adorable snowmen lining the balcony railing. She'd made them one by one each time she hovered over the balcony, hoping Bjorn might return.
Celebrating her birthday alone, unknown to anyone, felt a little lonely, but still, Erna was thrilled. The beautiful snow was falling, like a gift from heaven, and Bjorn would soon return. Even though she couldn't receive letters, the mere thought of being able to climb the cathedral dome together filled her heart with joy.
But in the end, it turned out like this.
Erna looked at her own reddened hands, the five snowmen, and the snow-covered landscape in succession. Perhaps thanks to the disappearance of her lingering regrets, the sadness that had persisted all day long had vanished.
Bjorn doesn't come, and I'm alone.
Accepting that fact calmly once again, Erna was finally able to turn around. It seemed ridiculous to tell anyone now, so it seemed she'd have to spend her twentieth birthday alone.
It was late afternoon when Erna, who had been sitting idly before the fireplace, impulsively rose and prepared to go out. The attendants, excited by the rare day of rest, failed to notice the Grand Duchess's presence as she quietly disappeared like smoke.
Erna, who had safely exited the main gate of the guest house, looked up at the cloudy sky with calm eyes.
Last year, on this day, she remembered the birthday party she'd had with her family. The fireplace glowed warmly, and the table was filled with delicious food. Erna finally realized how happy she'd been then.
Erna, who had been standing there for a while, rubbed her reddened eyes hard and then began to walk along the snow-covered road.
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