62. Those little hands
He had a pleasant dream.
The moment he woke up, the dream was hazy, but its afterimages remained vivid. Like the warmth of a fireplace. Like the morning sunlight filtering through a crack in the curtains. Or maybe a soft feather...a feather?
Bjorn turned his head, following a sensation too vivid to be part of a dream. It was Erna. More precisely, it was Erna's breathing, sleeping against his back. A soft laugh escaped Bjorn's lips as he realized the identity of the feather tickling his back.
'I will never make your sleep uncomfortable.'
On the first night, they decided to walk the thorny path, and Erna made a firm promise. She even demonstrated her resolve by retreating to the other end of the bed and lying down. But the next day, she moved a little closer, and the day after that, even closer, until she finally came up to his back.
Bjorn sat up, looking shyly at the brazen swindler. Erna, slumbering, looked defenseless and peaceful. When had she even sewn on her pajamas? Even the ribbon that held the neckline was neatly tied.
Confirming that he still had time until his first scheduled appointment, Bjorn leaned back against the head of the bed and closed his eyes.
It was a little uncomfortable, but not as bad as he thought.
The first night was rough, but the second was somewhat better, and now, after a few more days, he's feeling more or less okay. Seeing how he slept so comfortably that he could even dream sweet dreams with Erna lying on his back, it seemed like this thorny path wasn't all that difficult.
After enough time for the sleepiness to fade, Bjorn slowly opened his eyes. Erna was still soundly asleep. Bjorn's gaze, which had been tracing the shadows of her long eyelashes and the lines of her slender, delicate face, finally rested on the pale hand resting neatly on the pillow.
Her hands looked ridiculously small. It was only natural for a petite woman to have small hands, but for some reason, that fact struck him anew.
Suddenly finding himself amusing, Bjorn rang the bell. Soon after, a maid arrived in the bedroom, bringing morning tea. Two cups held teas of different colors. The dark one was his, the light one Erna's.
“Erna.”
Bjorn quietly called out to his wife. Erna, who had been tossing and turning slightly, soon woke up. The smile that slowly spread across her face as she gazed at him was also one of the morning scenes created by the thorny path from the Archbishop.
“Hello, Bjorn.”
The hand that had been resting on the pillow slowly approached and wrapped its fingers around his.
“Good morning.”
The small hand was warm, like a shy greeting.
Lisa quietly closed the bedroom door and stamped her feet, unable to contain her joy. She couldn't count the number of times she bit her lips to keep herself from cheering.
Two glasses!
She felt like shouting it out to the world.
Look, you who despise Her Highness. Two glasses today.
Lisa, barely able to calm down, started running down the long hallway in search of the faces she desperately needed to share this news with.
The first time she saw the two of them waking up together, she was so shocked her heart nearly stopped. The doorbell rang, and she absentmindedly went to the bedroom, where a completely unexpected figure, the Prince, was sitting on the bed. And he was half-naked, too.
When Lisa, who had barely come to her senses, told the head maid that both cups of morning tea would be served in the Prince's bedroom today, the head maid looked dumbfounded.
Isn't it only natural for a couple to wake up in the same bed?
Lisa was delighted to finally see the couple as a proper couple, but the other attendants in the entourage all reacted with bewilderment. The longer they had served the Prince, the more shocked they seemed, suggesting this was quite a special event.
Since that day, Lisa has been praying every night, praying that tomorrow morning's morning tea will be two cups too. And for several days now, that prayer has been coming true.
“Hello, maid!”
Lisa, having found the face she most desperately wanted to see, greeted her with a vigorous greeting. Karen stopped in her tracks, startled.
Lisa approached Karen, trying to maintain a polite demeanor that wouldn't be caught. But it was difficult to hide the corners of her mouth that kept turning upward.
"His Highness, you don't need to bring his morning tea. I just brought two cups to Her Highness's bedroom."
Lisa's smile brightened as the maid's expression crumpled.
“You two are so affectionate, it fills me with satisfaction. Does the maid feel the same way?”
“Lisa, how many times do I have to tell you not to waste your time like this?”
Karen responded to the young maid's provocation with a stern reprimand. Lisa, without batting an eyelid, responded with a perfunctory "yes, yes," then walked away with an utterly reckless gait.
How did such an arrogant country bumpkin end up here?
Thinking about the changes brought about by that absurd Princess made her head spin. She'd persevered even when her pride in serving the Prince who would become the next King was shattered, but this was truly a bottomless humiliation. Whenever she felt as if everything she'd ever done was being denied, Karen found herself missing Princess Gladys even more. Perhaps it was a longing for a glorious time that would never return.
Karen sighed silently and hurriedly carried out her assigned duties. Princess Gladys's maid arrived at Manchester Palace just as Karen finished checking the breakfast menu. She hurried to the back door and saw Jade, who had brought her a new letter.
“Did the Princess really give such an order?”
Karen's eyes widened as she read the letter.
“Can’t you tell just by looking at it? It’s the Princess’s handwriting.”
Jade frowned, as if she were hearing all sorts of nonsense. She was right. The elegant, rounded handwriting was unmistakably Gladys's. That made it even harder for Karen to believe the contents of the letter.
“Then I’ll just trust you and wait.”
Before anyone could reply, Jade hurried out the back door.
Karen, who had been in a daze, left only when the figure was no longer visible. She read the letter over and over again, memorizing its contents, and took advantage of the moment when no one was looking to throw it into the fireplace.
The first request, to inform her of the Grand Duchess's schedule, was readily accepted. While she felt guilty about acting as a spy, he believed that helping Princess Gladys, who still harbored lingering feelings for her ex-husband, would be the best way to serve Bjorn. After all, the Grand Duchess, confined within the palace walls all day, had little to call a schedule.
But, well, isn't this a different case?
While Karen was pacing anxiously, the Grand Duke and Grand Duchess entered the breakfast room.
“Good morning, Karen.”
Erna met her eyes and greeted her with a quiet smile. Karen quickly lowered her head to avoid her gaze.
Princess Gladys ordered the Grand Duchess to be brought out to the lake behind Manchester Palace this afternoon. It seemed she was trying to arrange a meeting, even if it meant avoiding the possibility of meeting her.
What should I do about this?
Karen lifted her gaze, her heart pounding with confusion, and saw the Grand Duke and his wife sitting across from each other at the breakfast table. Their conversation was quiet, with Erna mainly talking and Bjorn offering brief replies. The affectionate look on their faces was likely due to the autumn morning sunlight streaming in through the east-facing window.
Karen couldn't look away from the sight for a long time.
As the time for Bjorn to leave drew near, the servants began to gather, one by one, alone. The Prince appeared just as they were tidying up and lining up. He was accompanied by Bjorn, who had come to see him off again today.
“Are you late again today?”
As the carriage awaited him beyond the wide-open front door, Erna cautiously asked the question she had been holding back. Not wanting to seem pushy or whiny, she spoke as calmly as possible, not forgetting to add a smile.
"Maybe."
After briefly reviewing the day's schedule, Bjorn dismissed Erna's expectations with a short and clear answer.
Oh, I see.
Erna, muttering softly to herself, fiddled with the corsage brooch that held her lace shawl in place. Princess Gladys's face, who had suggested a slight reduction in decoration, suddenly appeared above the large artificial flowers.
Erna, feeling a little intimidated, glanced up at her husband, who stood beside her. The Princess had confidently declared that Bjorn's tastes were simpler and elegant. It seemed an undeniable truth.
Just as she sighed with a sullen face, Bjorn suddenly turned his head. It happened so quickly that she had no time to look away, and their eyes met.
“Do I look very country?”
Erna, unable to think of anything to say to cover it up, decided to be honest.
“I like pretty things like flowers and lace.”
"So?"
“But I’m a little curious about what it looks like to you.”
An unconscious power was felt in Erna's fingertips as she touched the petals of the flower decorations.
Thanks to Mrs. Fitz's help, she was confident she had improved significantly, but if things still fell short, she was willing to let go of her stubbornness. Even to Erna, who was unaware of such things, Princess Gladys seemed to possess a perspective quite different from her own, and her appearance was remarkably refined and elegant.
“Why are you asking me that?”
Bjorn frowned slightly, as if asking what the hell he was talking about all of a sudden.
“It may be out of style, but it’s still pretty.”
“Really?”
Erna's eyes, which had been very tense, grew wide.
“Am I pretty? Really?”
“You’re not asking out of ignorance, are you? Is this arrogance disguised as humility?”
“No! That’s not it...”
Erna didn't know how to explain, so she just moved her lips.
She knew how others judged her, but she didn't put much stock in it. Her grandmother had told her countless times that focusing on external things was shallow, and Erna had lived by that teaching. Or rather, she had. Until just a moment ago, she had heard what Bjorn had said.
"Everyone has a slightly different standard for beauty. So what I'm saying is, in your eyes too..."
“Pretty.”
Björn cut Erna off with a light laugh.
“Everything with eyes will see it that way, so do as you please.”
Her tone was calm, but the smile on her lips was gentle. Like a lady, she tried her best to remember her grandmother's teachings, but she couldn't hide the smile that spread across her face.
Pretty.
Those few words made my heart swell like a balloon. I felt like I could float high into the sky and float away.
"Thank you."
Erna tried to lower the corners of her lips as she greeted him.
“You are really cool too.”
I didn't forget to return the favor either.
"know."
Björn's answer, thrown with a face devoid of a smile, was completely unexpected.
While he was pondering what to say, Björn strode into the carriage.
Erna rubbed her slightly flushed cheek, then waved her hand in a regretful farewell. Seeing Björn's smiling face, her heart pounded, almost embarrassingly loud. Fortunately, the carriage pulled away before Erna could turn bright red. A strange feeling of regret and relief mingled with the lingering sweetness of his words.
Pretty.
Erna chewed on those words with every step she took. Even when she stood alone, absentmindedly in front of the window, even when Lisa brushed her hair.
Just when I was starting to have the foolish thought that just that memory would make today less lonely, a polite knock was heard.
It was Karen.
He had a pleasant dream.
The moment he woke up, the dream was hazy, but its afterimages remained vivid. Like the warmth of a fireplace. Like the morning sunlight filtering through a crack in the curtains. Or maybe a soft feather...a feather?
Bjorn turned his head, following a sensation too vivid to be part of a dream. It was Erna. More precisely, it was Erna's breathing, sleeping against his back. A soft laugh escaped Bjorn's lips as he realized the identity of the feather tickling his back.
'I will never make your sleep uncomfortable.'
On the first night, they decided to walk the thorny path, and Erna made a firm promise. She even demonstrated her resolve by retreating to the other end of the bed and lying down. But the next day, she moved a little closer, and the day after that, even closer, until she finally came up to his back.
Bjorn sat up, looking shyly at the brazen swindler. Erna, slumbering, looked defenseless and peaceful. When had she even sewn on her pajamas? Even the ribbon that held the neckline was neatly tied.
Confirming that he still had time until his first scheduled appointment, Bjorn leaned back against the head of the bed and closed his eyes.
It was a little uncomfortable, but not as bad as he thought.
The first night was rough, but the second was somewhat better, and now, after a few more days, he's feeling more or less okay. Seeing how he slept so comfortably that he could even dream sweet dreams with Erna lying on his back, it seemed like this thorny path wasn't all that difficult.
After enough time for the sleepiness to fade, Bjorn slowly opened his eyes. Erna was still soundly asleep. Bjorn's gaze, which had been tracing the shadows of her long eyelashes and the lines of her slender, delicate face, finally rested on the pale hand resting neatly on the pillow.
Her hands looked ridiculously small. It was only natural for a petite woman to have small hands, but for some reason, that fact struck him anew.
Suddenly finding himself amusing, Bjorn rang the bell. Soon after, a maid arrived in the bedroom, bringing morning tea. Two cups held teas of different colors. The dark one was his, the light one Erna's.
“Erna.”
Bjorn quietly called out to his wife. Erna, who had been tossing and turning slightly, soon woke up. The smile that slowly spread across her face as she gazed at him was also one of the morning scenes created by the thorny path from the Archbishop.
“Hello, Bjorn.”
The hand that had been resting on the pillow slowly approached and wrapped its fingers around his.
“Good morning.”
The small hand was warm, like a shy greeting.
***
Lisa quietly closed the bedroom door and stamped her feet, unable to contain her joy. She couldn't count the number of times she bit her lips to keep herself from cheering.
Two glasses!
She felt like shouting it out to the world.
Look, you who despise Her Highness. Two glasses today.
Lisa, barely able to calm down, started running down the long hallway in search of the faces she desperately needed to share this news with.
The first time she saw the two of them waking up together, she was so shocked her heart nearly stopped. The doorbell rang, and she absentmindedly went to the bedroom, where a completely unexpected figure, the Prince, was sitting on the bed. And he was half-naked, too.
When Lisa, who had barely come to her senses, told the head maid that both cups of morning tea would be served in the Prince's bedroom today, the head maid looked dumbfounded.
Isn't it only natural for a couple to wake up in the same bed?
Lisa was delighted to finally see the couple as a proper couple, but the other attendants in the entourage all reacted with bewilderment. The longer they had served the Prince, the more shocked they seemed, suggesting this was quite a special event.
Since that day, Lisa has been praying every night, praying that tomorrow morning's morning tea will be two cups too. And for several days now, that prayer has been coming true.
“Hello, maid!”
Lisa, having found the face she most desperately wanted to see, greeted her with a vigorous greeting. Karen stopped in her tracks, startled.
Lisa approached Karen, trying to maintain a polite demeanor that wouldn't be caught. But it was difficult to hide the corners of her mouth that kept turning upward.
"His Highness, you don't need to bring his morning tea. I just brought two cups to Her Highness's bedroom."
Lisa's smile brightened as the maid's expression crumpled.
“You two are so affectionate, it fills me with satisfaction. Does the maid feel the same way?”
“Lisa, how many times do I have to tell you not to waste your time like this?”
Karen responded to the young maid's provocation with a stern reprimand. Lisa, without batting an eyelid, responded with a perfunctory "yes, yes," then walked away with an utterly reckless gait.
How did such an arrogant country bumpkin end up here?
Thinking about the changes brought about by that absurd Princess made her head spin. She'd persevered even when her pride in serving the Prince who would become the next King was shattered, but this was truly a bottomless humiliation. Whenever she felt as if everything she'd ever done was being denied, Karen found herself missing Princess Gladys even more. Perhaps it was a longing for a glorious time that would never return.
Karen sighed silently and hurriedly carried out her assigned duties. Princess Gladys's maid arrived at Manchester Palace just as Karen finished checking the breakfast menu. She hurried to the back door and saw Jade, who had brought her a new letter.
“Did the Princess really give such an order?”
Karen's eyes widened as she read the letter.
“Can’t you tell just by looking at it? It’s the Princess’s handwriting.”
Jade frowned, as if she were hearing all sorts of nonsense. She was right. The elegant, rounded handwriting was unmistakably Gladys's. That made it even harder for Karen to believe the contents of the letter.
“Then I’ll just trust you and wait.”
Before anyone could reply, Jade hurried out the back door.
Karen, who had been in a daze, left only when the figure was no longer visible. She read the letter over and over again, memorizing its contents, and took advantage of the moment when no one was looking to throw it into the fireplace.
The first request, to inform her of the Grand Duchess's schedule, was readily accepted. While she felt guilty about acting as a spy, he believed that helping Princess Gladys, who still harbored lingering feelings for her ex-husband, would be the best way to serve Bjorn. After all, the Grand Duchess, confined within the palace walls all day, had little to call a schedule.
But, well, isn't this a different case?
While Karen was pacing anxiously, the Grand Duke and Grand Duchess entered the breakfast room.
“Good morning, Karen.”
Erna met her eyes and greeted her with a quiet smile. Karen quickly lowered her head to avoid her gaze.
Princess Gladys ordered the Grand Duchess to be brought out to the lake behind Manchester Palace this afternoon. It seemed she was trying to arrange a meeting, even if it meant avoiding the possibility of meeting her.
What should I do about this?
Karen lifted her gaze, her heart pounding with confusion, and saw the Grand Duke and his wife sitting across from each other at the breakfast table. Their conversation was quiet, with Erna mainly talking and Bjorn offering brief replies. The affectionate look on their faces was likely due to the autumn morning sunlight streaming in through the east-facing window.
Karen couldn't look away from the sight for a long time.
***
As the time for Bjorn to leave drew near, the servants began to gather, one by one, alone. The Prince appeared just as they were tidying up and lining up. He was accompanied by Bjorn, who had come to see him off again today.
“Are you late again today?”
As the carriage awaited him beyond the wide-open front door, Erna cautiously asked the question she had been holding back. Not wanting to seem pushy or whiny, she spoke as calmly as possible, not forgetting to add a smile.
"Maybe."
After briefly reviewing the day's schedule, Bjorn dismissed Erna's expectations with a short and clear answer.
Oh, I see.
Erna, muttering softly to herself, fiddled with the corsage brooch that held her lace shawl in place. Princess Gladys's face, who had suggested a slight reduction in decoration, suddenly appeared above the large artificial flowers.
Erna, feeling a little intimidated, glanced up at her husband, who stood beside her. The Princess had confidently declared that Bjorn's tastes were simpler and elegant. It seemed an undeniable truth.
Just as she sighed with a sullen face, Bjorn suddenly turned his head. It happened so quickly that she had no time to look away, and their eyes met.
“Do I look very country?”
Erna, unable to think of anything to say to cover it up, decided to be honest.
“I like pretty things like flowers and lace.”
"So?"
“But I’m a little curious about what it looks like to you.”
An unconscious power was felt in Erna's fingertips as she touched the petals of the flower decorations.
Thanks to Mrs. Fitz's help, she was confident she had improved significantly, but if things still fell short, she was willing to let go of her stubbornness. Even to Erna, who was unaware of such things, Princess Gladys seemed to possess a perspective quite different from her own, and her appearance was remarkably refined and elegant.
“Why are you asking me that?”
Bjorn frowned slightly, as if asking what the hell he was talking about all of a sudden.
“It may be out of style, but it’s still pretty.”
“Really?”
Erna's eyes, which had been very tense, grew wide.
“Am I pretty? Really?”
“You’re not asking out of ignorance, are you? Is this arrogance disguised as humility?”
“No! That’s not it...”
Erna didn't know how to explain, so she just moved her lips.
She knew how others judged her, but she didn't put much stock in it. Her grandmother had told her countless times that focusing on external things was shallow, and Erna had lived by that teaching. Or rather, she had. Until just a moment ago, she had heard what Bjorn had said.
"Everyone has a slightly different standard for beauty. So what I'm saying is, in your eyes too..."
“Pretty.”
Björn cut Erna off with a light laugh.
“Everything with eyes will see it that way, so do as you please.”
Her tone was calm, but the smile on her lips was gentle. Like a lady, she tried her best to remember her grandmother's teachings, but she couldn't hide the smile that spread across her face.
Pretty.
Those few words made my heart swell like a balloon. I felt like I could float high into the sky and float away.
"Thank you."
Erna tried to lower the corners of her lips as she greeted him.
“You are really cool too.”
I didn't forget to return the favor either.
"know."
Björn's answer, thrown with a face devoid of a smile, was completely unexpected.
While he was pondering what to say, Björn strode into the carriage.
Erna rubbed her slightly flushed cheek, then waved her hand in a regretful farewell. Seeing Björn's smiling face, her heart pounded, almost embarrassingly loud. Fortunately, the carriage pulled away before Erna could turn bright red. A strange feeling of regret and relief mingled with the lingering sweetness of his words.
Pretty.
Erna chewed on those words with every step she took. Even when she stood alone, absentmindedly in front of the window, even when Lisa brushed her hair.
Just when I was starting to have the foolish thought that just that memory would make today less lonely, a polite knock was heard.
It was Karen.
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