56. Mine
Erna opened her eyes in the dazzling sunlight.
Staring blankly at the golden dust drifting through the light, listening to the crackling of the logs in the fireplace, Erna gradually regained consciousness. Memories of the moment she'd fallen asleep came flooding back, and Erna flinched, pulling the blankets close to her. Following the soft laughter from beside her, she turned her gaze and saw the face she'd expected: Bjorn.
He sat leaning against the head of the bed, looking down at Erna. His tangled hair shone like gold in the midday sunlight. His face, with its languid smile, was no different.
She really doesn't know what happened.
Erna, clutching the down comforter pulled up to her neck, stared blankly at her husband. Bjorn wasn't exactly conscientious, but he was meticulous in the responsibilities he was given, and this seemed to fall into that category. Even when she pleaded or fainted, feeling she couldn't do it anymore, he wouldn't back down until he'd satisfied his desires. Because of this, Erna mostly didn't remember the end.
She should have just followed Mrs. Peg.
Erna avoided her husband's gaze, mulling over the now-useless regret of having chosen the wrong teacher. The sea where they supposedly saw dolphins must have long since passed. They hadn't even crossed the threshold of this room, let alone gone out onto the deck together, yet the clock was already pointing to afternoon. At this rate, another day might just slip away in bed.
“Is there still a long way to go until Lars?”
Erna, finding the silence filling the bedroom burdensome, summoned the courage to speak first. Bjorn closed the book he was reading and placed it on the edge of the bed. He lay down beside Erna, resting his head on one arm.
“Now... about three days?”
The hand that was stroking the hair that was scattered on the sheet reached the edge of the blanket.
“Starting from here, following this route, and now around here.”
As he pulled down the blanket, a long index finger gradually moved down and ran up her left chest.
“Go a little further and anchor at Lars.”
The fingers that had been slowly circling the hardened tip of the chest began to move downward again.
“Back on the boat, to the next country. And then...”
“You don’t have to say anything anymore!”
Erna grabbed his hand, which had already reached her navel. Bjorn's face, staring at her as if he couldn't understand the situation, was surprisingly brazen and serene.
“Didn’t you wonder, wife?”
“There’s no need to explain it like this.”
"Why?"
Bjorn smiled leisurely, as if he didn't care about his wife's specifications.
“I like this map.”
Oh my god.
Just as Erna's mind went blank in shock, a knock rang out on the door.
"Your Highness, the delegation has sent us a revised report. I know it's rude, but I'd like to ask you to review it urgently."
"Yes."
Bjorn, who had been groping Erna's body, withdrew his hand and sat up again.
“Come in.”
As he gave the order, roughly putting on the nightgown that had been thrown away, the bedroom door opened.
Erna, startled to the point of fainting, quickly pulled the covers over her and buried her face between the pillows. So embarrassed and embarrassed that she could barely breathe, Bjorn nonchalantly accepted the report the maid had brought.
Erna was finally able to raise her reddened face after the maid who had exchanged a few words with him had left.
“Shall we have some tea?”
Bjorn, who was absentmindedly leafing through the documents, asked. Erna looked at him with slightly resentful eyes.
“I don’t like that kind of thing.”
“Something like that?”
“Just like before, another person comes into the bedroom at a time like this.”
“Erna, no one knows what we’re doing here.”
Bjorn, who gave a calm answer as if he thought it was an incomprehensible anomaly, roughly closed his gown and left the bed.
“If you don’t feel like drinking tea together, just tell me.”
Before opening the door, he turned his head and asked.
“No! Drink it!”
Erna shook her head urgently and shouted.
“But I... I think I’ll need some time.”
It was humiliating to be treated like an idiot, but Erna couldn't bring herself to leave the bedroom wearing just a robe like that.
Fortunately, Bjorn nodded, chuckling nonchalantly.
“Yes, my quiet wife.”
Before entering the sunroom, where a tea table was set, Erna once again adjusted her attire. She was simply wearing a comfortable lounge dress with a shawl, but she had put considerable effort into finding the right outfit. Even the loose braided hair was a testament to Lisa's skill.
“Lisa, I...”
“You are pretty.”
Lisa answered before the question was even finished.
“You are so pretty, don’t worry, and go!”
Lisa opened the door herself and gave Erna a firm push on the back as she hesitated.
Erna, who had crossed the threshold in a daze, tried to shake off her panic and lightly approached the tea table. Bjorn, who was studying the report with a focused expression, only raised his head after Erna had reached the table.
He smiled faintly, gestured to the seat opposite him, and then returned his gaze to his papers. Erna, slightly embarrassed, hurried to her seat. The tea the maid quietly poured for her emanated a fragrant bergamot scent. It was a scent reminiscent of Bjorn's own.
“These are things that have come to Your Highness.”
The maid placed a small tray containing the magnificent invitations at the end of the tea table. Erna felt a little excited, as she was able to present herself as a Princess in front of her husband, who was playing the role of a Prince.
“You must reply by today.”
“Yes. I will review it.”
Erna smiled shyly and nodded. Without Mrs. Fitz accompanying her, she had no one to offer advice, but that made her want to do better.
When in doubt, Madame Fitz advised her to seek help from Karen, the eldest maid in the entourage—the one who had delivered this invitation. But Erna knew. Karen was the one who had bet money that the second Princess's term of marriage would last less than six months.
'I hope it ends before the baby is born. That way, his reunion with Princess Gladys will be easier.'
Erna happened to overhear the conversation, which was being exchanged with the other maids, giggling. Judging by the loud chatter in the hallway not far from the Grand Duchess's bedroom, it seemed they had no intention of hiding it.
Erna straightened her neck as if trying to erase that memory, examining each invitation. Occasionally, she felt Bjorn's gaze, and she yearned to appear even more dignified as a Grand Duchess.
But Erna couldn't readily decide which invitations to accept and which to decline. She certainly remembered some of the ones on Princess Gladys' side, but the names on the other four invitations were unfamiliar.
“Bjorn.”
Erna carefully called out to her husband, adjusting the shape of the blue ribbon Lisa had tied to the tip of her hair.
"Yes."
His gaze briefly brushed Erna's, then returned to the documents in his hand. Feeling intimidated, Erna decided to muster up her courage once more.
“Do you know the Hawkins family?”
"No."
Hawkins was ruled out. The two names that followed were also ruled out.
“Forrester? Do you know?”
"Yes."
Bjorn's low reply was accompanied by the sound of papers being turned.
“Then, is this a family that I can associate with?”
"...Yes."
Once again, the paper was turned over.
Forrester.
Erna whispered the name and adjusted the shape of the ribbon once more, then rang the bell to summon the head maid.
“Please prepare to write a reply.”
Karen, who had followed the order, quickly prepared some stationery and a pen.
Erna picked up her pen with a pounding heart. Bjorn's gaze remained fixed on the paperwork.
Even as Erna, with her heart fluttering in her hands, finished writing her response to the invitation, Bjorn's gaze remained fixed solely on the documents.
Although it was a little disappointing, Erna decided not to show it. For him, this trip wasn't just a honeymoon. She didn't want to be a child who would nag and whine.
Calm and elegant. Like a lady, anytime, anywhere.
While reflecting on his grandmother's teachings, Bjorn finally finished reviewing the documents and looked up. As the maid left, carrying the Prince's signed documents and Erna's reply, the atmosphere at the tea table grew more intimate.
“Your handwriting is nice.”
Erna, who was fiddling with the teacup in her hand, suddenly spoke.
“Your hands are really big and pretty.”
Erna continued to praise him shamelessly, though she was too shy to even make eye contact.
What kind of contextless conversation is this?
Bjorn, who was looking at Erna as if it were absurd, finally lost his composure and started laughing.
“Even my wife is pretty.”
Bjorn replied matter-of-factly, pouring his drink with his wife's loving hand. The aroma of whiskey mixed with the thick tea tickled his nostrils.
“Especially that ribbon.”
Bjorn's playful gaze fell on the ribbon tied to Erna's hair. He'd been gently pulling on the knot every so often, stretching it out, and it had grown to at least twice its original size.
“Oh, this is it. Thank you.”
It was meant as a joke, but Erna laughed delightedly. Bjorn, watching his young wife, now wearing a ribbon the size of her own face, giggled, chuckled again, a softer laugh slipping out.
People he met on deck. Jokes he heard from the maid. The dinner menu. Erna's idle tales and the pleasant aroma of tea filled his relaxed tea time.
Bjorn, about to return to bed, changed his mind and watched his wife. He leisurely admired her voice, which chirped like a songbird, her eyes that revealed a shy excitement, her small, trembling hands, and her flushed cheeks.
“Bjorn...?”
Erna cautiously called his name, perhaps feeling uneasy about the prolonged silence.
Only after her self-absorbed blue eyes began to tremble nervously did Bjorn nod. The autumn sunlight streaming through the hold illuminated Erna, who finally felt relieved.
As Bjorn smiled faintly, a bright smile spread across Erna's face. Her eyes sparkled with anticipation, and her cheeks took on a fresh, rosy hue.
At some point, as he was looking at the beautiful smile she had created, Bjorn suddenly realized something.
Ah, it's mine.
I have everything this woman has.
Erna opened her eyes in the dazzling sunlight.
Staring blankly at the golden dust drifting through the light, listening to the crackling of the logs in the fireplace, Erna gradually regained consciousness. Memories of the moment she'd fallen asleep came flooding back, and Erna flinched, pulling the blankets close to her. Following the soft laughter from beside her, she turned her gaze and saw the face she'd expected: Bjorn.
He sat leaning against the head of the bed, looking down at Erna. His tangled hair shone like gold in the midday sunlight. His face, with its languid smile, was no different.
She really doesn't know what happened.
Erna, clutching the down comforter pulled up to her neck, stared blankly at her husband. Bjorn wasn't exactly conscientious, but he was meticulous in the responsibilities he was given, and this seemed to fall into that category. Even when she pleaded or fainted, feeling she couldn't do it anymore, he wouldn't back down until he'd satisfied his desires. Because of this, Erna mostly didn't remember the end.
She should have just followed Mrs. Peg.
Erna avoided her husband's gaze, mulling over the now-useless regret of having chosen the wrong teacher. The sea where they supposedly saw dolphins must have long since passed. They hadn't even crossed the threshold of this room, let alone gone out onto the deck together, yet the clock was already pointing to afternoon. At this rate, another day might just slip away in bed.
“Is there still a long way to go until Lars?”
Erna, finding the silence filling the bedroom burdensome, summoned the courage to speak first. Bjorn closed the book he was reading and placed it on the edge of the bed. He lay down beside Erna, resting his head on one arm.
“Now... about three days?”
The hand that was stroking the hair that was scattered on the sheet reached the edge of the blanket.
“Starting from here, following this route, and now around here.”
As he pulled down the blanket, a long index finger gradually moved down and ran up her left chest.
“Go a little further and anchor at Lars.”
The fingers that had been slowly circling the hardened tip of the chest began to move downward again.
“Back on the boat, to the next country. And then...”
“You don’t have to say anything anymore!”
Erna grabbed his hand, which had already reached her navel. Bjorn's face, staring at her as if he couldn't understand the situation, was surprisingly brazen and serene.
“Didn’t you wonder, wife?”
“There’s no need to explain it like this.”
"Why?"
Bjorn smiled leisurely, as if he didn't care about his wife's specifications.
“I like this map.”
Oh my god.
Just as Erna's mind went blank in shock, a knock rang out on the door.
"Your Highness, the delegation has sent us a revised report. I know it's rude, but I'd like to ask you to review it urgently."
"Yes."
Bjorn, who had been groping Erna's body, withdrew his hand and sat up again.
“Come in.”
As he gave the order, roughly putting on the nightgown that had been thrown away, the bedroom door opened.
Erna, startled to the point of fainting, quickly pulled the covers over her and buried her face between the pillows. So embarrassed and embarrassed that she could barely breathe, Bjorn nonchalantly accepted the report the maid had brought.
Erna was finally able to raise her reddened face after the maid who had exchanged a few words with him had left.
“Shall we have some tea?”
Bjorn, who was absentmindedly leafing through the documents, asked. Erna looked at him with slightly resentful eyes.
“I don’t like that kind of thing.”
“Something like that?”
“Just like before, another person comes into the bedroom at a time like this.”
“Erna, no one knows what we’re doing here.”
Bjorn, who gave a calm answer as if he thought it was an incomprehensible anomaly, roughly closed his gown and left the bed.
“If you don’t feel like drinking tea together, just tell me.”
Before opening the door, he turned his head and asked.
“No! Drink it!”
Erna shook her head urgently and shouted.
“But I... I think I’ll need some time.”
It was humiliating to be treated like an idiot, but Erna couldn't bring herself to leave the bedroom wearing just a robe like that.
Fortunately, Bjorn nodded, chuckling nonchalantly.
“Yes, my quiet wife.”
***
Before entering the sunroom, where a tea table was set, Erna once again adjusted her attire. She was simply wearing a comfortable lounge dress with a shawl, but she had put considerable effort into finding the right outfit. Even the loose braided hair was a testament to Lisa's skill.
“Lisa, I...”
“You are pretty.”
Lisa answered before the question was even finished.
“You are so pretty, don’t worry, and go!”
Lisa opened the door herself and gave Erna a firm push on the back as she hesitated.
Erna, who had crossed the threshold in a daze, tried to shake off her panic and lightly approached the tea table. Bjorn, who was studying the report with a focused expression, only raised his head after Erna had reached the table.
He smiled faintly, gestured to the seat opposite him, and then returned his gaze to his papers. Erna, slightly embarrassed, hurried to her seat. The tea the maid quietly poured for her emanated a fragrant bergamot scent. It was a scent reminiscent of Bjorn's own.
“These are things that have come to Your Highness.”
The maid placed a small tray containing the magnificent invitations at the end of the tea table. Erna felt a little excited, as she was able to present herself as a Princess in front of her husband, who was playing the role of a Prince.
“You must reply by today.”
“Yes. I will review it.”
Erna smiled shyly and nodded. Without Mrs. Fitz accompanying her, she had no one to offer advice, but that made her want to do better.
When in doubt, Madame Fitz advised her to seek help from Karen, the eldest maid in the entourage—the one who had delivered this invitation. But Erna knew. Karen was the one who had bet money that the second Princess's term of marriage would last less than six months.
'I hope it ends before the baby is born. That way, his reunion with Princess Gladys will be easier.'
Erna happened to overhear the conversation, which was being exchanged with the other maids, giggling. Judging by the loud chatter in the hallway not far from the Grand Duchess's bedroom, it seemed they had no intention of hiding it.
Erna straightened her neck as if trying to erase that memory, examining each invitation. Occasionally, she felt Bjorn's gaze, and she yearned to appear even more dignified as a Grand Duchess.
But Erna couldn't readily decide which invitations to accept and which to decline. She certainly remembered some of the ones on Princess Gladys' side, but the names on the other four invitations were unfamiliar.
“Bjorn.”
Erna carefully called out to her husband, adjusting the shape of the blue ribbon Lisa had tied to the tip of her hair.
"Yes."
His gaze briefly brushed Erna's, then returned to the documents in his hand. Feeling intimidated, Erna decided to muster up her courage once more.
“Do you know the Hawkins family?”
"No."
Hawkins was ruled out. The two names that followed were also ruled out.
“Forrester? Do you know?”
"Yes."
Bjorn's low reply was accompanied by the sound of papers being turned.
“Then, is this a family that I can associate with?”
"...Yes."
Once again, the paper was turned over.
Forrester.
Erna whispered the name and adjusted the shape of the ribbon once more, then rang the bell to summon the head maid.
“Please prepare to write a reply.”
Karen, who had followed the order, quickly prepared some stationery and a pen.
Erna picked up her pen with a pounding heart. Bjorn's gaze remained fixed on the paperwork.
Even as Erna, with her heart fluttering in her hands, finished writing her response to the invitation, Bjorn's gaze remained fixed solely on the documents.
Although it was a little disappointing, Erna decided not to show it. For him, this trip wasn't just a honeymoon. She didn't want to be a child who would nag and whine.
Calm and elegant. Like a lady, anytime, anywhere.
While reflecting on his grandmother's teachings, Bjorn finally finished reviewing the documents and looked up. As the maid left, carrying the Prince's signed documents and Erna's reply, the atmosphere at the tea table grew more intimate.
“Your handwriting is nice.”
Erna, who was fiddling with the teacup in her hand, suddenly spoke.
“Your hands are really big and pretty.”
Erna continued to praise him shamelessly, though she was too shy to even make eye contact.
What kind of contextless conversation is this?
Bjorn, who was looking at Erna as if it were absurd, finally lost his composure and started laughing.
“Even my wife is pretty.”
Bjorn replied matter-of-factly, pouring his drink with his wife's loving hand. The aroma of whiskey mixed with the thick tea tickled his nostrils.
“Especially that ribbon.”
Bjorn's playful gaze fell on the ribbon tied to Erna's hair. He'd been gently pulling on the knot every so often, stretching it out, and it had grown to at least twice its original size.
“Oh, this is it. Thank you.”
It was meant as a joke, but Erna laughed delightedly. Bjorn, watching his young wife, now wearing a ribbon the size of her own face, giggled, chuckled again, a softer laugh slipping out.
People he met on deck. Jokes he heard from the maid. The dinner menu. Erna's idle tales and the pleasant aroma of tea filled his relaxed tea time.
Bjorn, about to return to bed, changed his mind and watched his wife. He leisurely admired her voice, which chirped like a songbird, her eyes that revealed a shy excitement, her small, trembling hands, and her flushed cheeks.
“Bjorn...?”
Erna cautiously called his name, perhaps feeling uneasy about the prolonged silence.
Only after her self-absorbed blue eyes began to tremble nervously did Bjorn nod. The autumn sunlight streaming through the hold illuminated Erna, who finally felt relieved.
As Bjorn smiled faintly, a bright smile spread across Erna's face. Her eyes sparkled with anticipation, and her cheeks took on a fresh, rosy hue.
At some point, as he was looking at the beautiful smile she had created, Bjorn suddenly realized something.
Ah, it's mine.
I have everything this woman has.
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