63. Glass greenhouse
The slow thump of horses' hooves echoed along the lakeside promenade. The chatter of noble ladies, like the chirping of birds, accompanied the sound.
"The leaves will soon fall. Time flies. Winter is just around the corner."
"If I keep going like this, the sun will have already set by the time I come to my senses. By the way, when did Letzen's delegation say they were leaving Lars?"
As Prince Alexander's rain gently changed the subject, everyone's attention turned to Gladys, as if by appointment. Gladys, riding her beautiful white horse, looked as serene as the unusually clear weather today.
"I think he said about four days. I hope he leaves soon so Lars can find peace. To give Manchester Palace to the man who did such a thing to Gladys? His Majesty is truly a man of integrity."
The Third Prince's wife also slyly chimed in. While Bjorn Dneister continued his gossip, Gladys continued to ride quietly, her expression unreadable. It was an uncharacteristic gesture for someone who had been the first to invite her for a horseback ride, but no one took issue with it.
Why else would he do that?
Gladys's increasingly moody and moody behavior of late was largely explained by that one word. Her ex-husband, who had committed such a crime, was now in this country with his new wife for their honeymoon, so how could she possibly feel?
After a leisurely walk around the lake, it was just past three o'clock. It was the exact time she wrote in her letter to Manchester Palace this morning.
Gladys's eyes, which had been staring straight ahead with expressionless eyes, began to waver slightly.
Could it be that Karen has changed her mind? That loyal person.
As Gladys's hand tightened around the reins, the composure she had been trying to maintain began to crumble.
This is something she shouldn't do.
She knew all too well how despicable it was to spy on the Grand Duchess through illicit means, and even to plot such a scheme. Yet, her unwavering resolve drove Gladys deeper and deeper into the abyss.
'Let's just give up all our foolish thoughts.'
The day she met Bjorn alone, her father spoke with a resigned expression. For Gladys, who had been waiting with a faint hope, it was a bolt from the blue.
She's a good woman. I cherish her.
Bjorn, that great Bjorn Dneister, said that about his wife.
Gladys knew full well that those sharp words were meant to stab her. Even knowing this, it still hurt. The pain was unbearable, making it hard to breathe.
Why couldn't I be like that woman?
That searing regret and sense of defeat gnawed at her heart. But even more horrifying was the fact that the one who had inflicted this hell on her was none other than Erna. That pathetic woman, driven by shallow desires, who possessed everything she had lost because she couldn't bring herself to deceive anyone.
Gladys surveyed the path with cold, sunken eyes. A heart that had never been one to hate or be jealous of anyone felt etched with an indelible, dirty stain. If Bjorn had intended to hurt his hated ex-wife, he had made the perfect choice.
“I think someone’s coming over there. Are there any other guests coming?”
Gladys, who had lowered her head as if to hide her anger, quickly glanced in the direction the group was glancing at. A woman wearing a hat richly decorated with flowers and ribbons was walking along the lakeside promenade.
Karen did not betray.
Gladys swallowed a sense of shame as great as the relief this brought her, and turned her horse's head. At the same time, the woman enjoying her walk also turned her gaze to Gladys.
It was Erna, Bjorn's precious wife.
“What about Erna?”
Bjorn's eyes narrowed at the sight of his wife's empty room. The maid, who had rushed in after hearing the belated news of the Prince's return, forced a stiff expression and smiled.
“Her Highness went out to the nearby lake for a moment to get some fresh air.”
"Lake?"
“Yes. Not far from Manchester Palace...”
“Ah. There.”
Bjorn nodded slightly and slowly crossed his wife's bedroom. It suddenly occurred to him that there was a nice lakeside path nearby for a stroll. An outing of that scale wouldn't be a problem. After all, the only people she'd encounter would be the forest, the lake, or perhaps a few squirrels.
When Erna's story about the chattering squirrel came to mind, Bjorn couldn't help but chuckle. He dislikes women who talk too much, and he dislikes women who talk too much in bed five times more, but Erna's ramblings didn't bother him too much. Perhaps it was because she gave him the rare experience of listening to the squirrels talk about the nuts and almonds they ate during sex.
Bjorn, who dismissed the incident as nothing serious, sat down at the desk by the window. The maid, who followed behind, stopped at an appropriate distance.
"I apologize, Your Highness. I wasn't informed in advance that you would be home soon, so I wasn't fully prepared."
“It’s okay. It’s just my whim.”
Bjorn answered calmly, picking up a blue notebook placed in the middle of the desk.
He was the one who broke off the takeover negotiations scheduled for this afternoon. It was too sunny to tolerate an opponent who, having had a chance to breathe, began to engage in sloppy bluffing. They, too, would need a few days to reflect on their situation with a clear mind, like this sky.
“Erna, what do you think?”
Bjorn sat with his legs crossed, his chin resting on the desk. The sound of papers being slowly turned sharply cut through the tranquil air of the room.
“I dare not judge Her Highness.”
Karen swallowed several times before finally answering. Bjorn, having examined the chart filled with familiar names, faced the maid with a smile.
"Is it so?"
“Yes, Your Highness.”
“That’s strange.”
Bjorn closed Erna's notebook, stood up, and leaned against the desk.
“But why does it seem to me like you’ve already made up your mind?”
His gaze, fixed on the head maid, still held a gentle smile.
The glasshouse facing the lake at Manchester Palace was built for the Princess.
Gladys, who was frail, spent her childhood at Manchester Palace, located on the outskirts of the capital. The King, taking pity on his young daughter, gifted her a greenhouse where she could enjoy beautiful flowers and butterflies year-round. It was a stark example of the royal family's devotion and love for their only Princess.
Erna sipped her indescribable tea and listened to the Princesses of Lars explain the history of the greenhouse. Indeed, the greenhouse, large and beautiful enough to be a source of pride, was filled with a variety of rare flowers and butterflies. It was a world of eternal spring, making one forget the seasons outside its glass walls.
“Come to think of it, it was in this greenhouse that I received the marriage proposal from Letzen.”
Gladys, who had been silent all along, spoke in a whisper.
"It was a truly beautiful letter. I've never seen a more beautiful one. I'm sure the proposal you received was like that, too."
The Princess's face, beaming as if reminiscing about a precious memory, was devoid of any shadow. The other members of the group, perplexed, seemed completely unconcerned.
It's no coincidence.
Erna put down her teacup, her conviction firm.
It was the head maid, Karen, who suggested a short outing to the lake near Manchester Palace. She said the water, beautifully blending with the forest, was a favorite spot for the Lars royal family. She explained that since it was just a short stroll, no special preparation or permission would be necessary.
The sudden kindness was somewhat suspicious, but she never imagined such a calculation could be made. By the time she realized her complacency, Erna was already facing the ladies of the Lars royal family, led by Princess Gladys.
“I received flowers instead of a letter, Princess. They were very pretty red roses.”
Erna answered calmly. Perhaps because it wasn't her first time, she was able to maintain a much more composed demeanor than during the chaotic tea party on board.
“You got married without receiving a proposal, did you?”
The Princess looked shocked, as if it were some great humiliation.
“Bjorn, indeed. A man who writes letters so well, yet so heartless.”
The Princess, who had let out a theatrical sigh, returned her gaze to Erna. Erna no longer averted her gaze.
The moment she'd offered to share tea with her to commemorate the miraculous coincidence, Erna knew what the Princess's intentions were. So, she decided not to run away. The previous incident was her fault, but today was different. She didn't want to cower before such obvious malice.
“Shall I show you my favorite flowers?”
Before Erna could even hear her answer, Gladys had already risen from the tea table. Erna, sensing her intentions, calmly accepted the invitation.
“Now speak, Princess.”
As the chatter among the ladies gathered around the tea table faded, Erna spoke first. The two, walking along the path filled with the rich fragrance of flowers, paused beneath the shade of a large palm tree.
“What are you saying, Grand Duchess?”
“I think you called me out separately because you have something to tell me.”
"I think there's been a misunderstanding. I just wanted to show you some beautiful flowers. The Grand Duchess seems to really like them."
Gladys, who slowly scanned Erna as if exploring, smiled brightly like a flower bed full of flowers.
Erna briefly averted her gaze to compose herself and saw a silver bell. The entire spacious flowerbed was filled solely with that flower.
No, it won't work.
Mrs. Fitz's firm answer to the request to use bellflowers in a bouquet came back to life in the sweet fragrance.
Absolutely not.
Her voice, as she emphasized it again, became even more stern. She had already vaguely guessed the reason, but facing the silver bells in the Princess's greenhouse, she was struck by the reality of her situation.
A half-daughter-in-law who must live in Princess Gladys' shadow for the rest of her life.
“It’s so beautiful.”
Gladys, who was looking at the flower bed where Erna's gaze was directed, continued speaking kindly as if nothing had happened.
“It’s my favorite flower. I guess the Grand Duchess likes it too?”
Gladys pointed to the silver bell flower decoration on Erna's hat with narrowed eyes.
"We have a lot in common. We like the same flowers, we like the same men... Oh. That might be a little rude. Sorry."
As her words became more brutal, Gladys's voice became lower and softer.
"There are also pink bellflowers. They're rare and can only be found in Lars, so I'll give you a few when you leave."
Gladys took the lead and began walking to the next flowerbed. After a moment of hesitation, Erna maintained her composure and followed the Princess. Gladys, who had been casually discussing flowers, revealed her true feelings only towards the end of their meaningless tour of the greenhouse.
“Do you know how much Crown Prince Bjorn was loved?”
Gladys, who was staring blankly at the crown-shaped flower, spoke, breaking the tense silence.
“I wanted to return the crown to Bjorn.”
Gladys turned to Erna and was no longer smiling.
The slow thump of horses' hooves echoed along the lakeside promenade. The chatter of noble ladies, like the chirping of birds, accompanied the sound.
"The leaves will soon fall. Time flies. Winter is just around the corner."
"If I keep going like this, the sun will have already set by the time I come to my senses. By the way, when did Letzen's delegation say they were leaving Lars?"
As Prince Alexander's rain gently changed the subject, everyone's attention turned to Gladys, as if by appointment. Gladys, riding her beautiful white horse, looked as serene as the unusually clear weather today.
"I think he said about four days. I hope he leaves soon so Lars can find peace. To give Manchester Palace to the man who did such a thing to Gladys? His Majesty is truly a man of integrity."
The Third Prince's wife also slyly chimed in. While Bjorn Dneister continued his gossip, Gladys continued to ride quietly, her expression unreadable. It was an uncharacteristic gesture for someone who had been the first to invite her for a horseback ride, but no one took issue with it.
Why else would he do that?
Gladys's increasingly moody and moody behavior of late was largely explained by that one word. Her ex-husband, who had committed such a crime, was now in this country with his new wife for their honeymoon, so how could she possibly feel?
After a leisurely walk around the lake, it was just past three o'clock. It was the exact time she wrote in her letter to Manchester Palace this morning.
Gladys's eyes, which had been staring straight ahead with expressionless eyes, began to waver slightly.
Could it be that Karen has changed her mind? That loyal person.
As Gladys's hand tightened around the reins, the composure she had been trying to maintain began to crumble.
This is something she shouldn't do.
She knew all too well how despicable it was to spy on the Grand Duchess through illicit means, and even to plot such a scheme. Yet, her unwavering resolve drove Gladys deeper and deeper into the abyss.
'Let's just give up all our foolish thoughts.'
The day she met Bjorn alone, her father spoke with a resigned expression. For Gladys, who had been waiting with a faint hope, it was a bolt from the blue.
She's a good woman. I cherish her.
Bjorn, that great Bjorn Dneister, said that about his wife.
Gladys knew full well that those sharp words were meant to stab her. Even knowing this, it still hurt. The pain was unbearable, making it hard to breathe.
Why couldn't I be like that woman?
That searing regret and sense of defeat gnawed at her heart. But even more horrifying was the fact that the one who had inflicted this hell on her was none other than Erna. That pathetic woman, driven by shallow desires, who possessed everything she had lost because she couldn't bring herself to deceive anyone.
Gladys surveyed the path with cold, sunken eyes. A heart that had never been one to hate or be jealous of anyone felt etched with an indelible, dirty stain. If Bjorn had intended to hurt his hated ex-wife, he had made the perfect choice.
“I think someone’s coming over there. Are there any other guests coming?”
Gladys, who had lowered her head as if to hide her anger, quickly glanced in the direction the group was glancing at. A woman wearing a hat richly decorated with flowers and ribbons was walking along the lakeside promenade.
Karen did not betray.
Gladys swallowed a sense of shame as great as the relief this brought her, and turned her horse's head. At the same time, the woman enjoying her walk also turned her gaze to Gladys.
It was Erna, Bjorn's precious wife.
***
“What about Erna?”
Bjorn's eyes narrowed at the sight of his wife's empty room. The maid, who had rushed in after hearing the belated news of the Prince's return, forced a stiff expression and smiled.
“Her Highness went out to the nearby lake for a moment to get some fresh air.”
"Lake?"
“Yes. Not far from Manchester Palace...”
“Ah. There.”
Bjorn nodded slightly and slowly crossed his wife's bedroom. It suddenly occurred to him that there was a nice lakeside path nearby for a stroll. An outing of that scale wouldn't be a problem. After all, the only people she'd encounter would be the forest, the lake, or perhaps a few squirrels.
When Erna's story about the chattering squirrel came to mind, Bjorn couldn't help but chuckle. He dislikes women who talk too much, and he dislikes women who talk too much in bed five times more, but Erna's ramblings didn't bother him too much. Perhaps it was because she gave him the rare experience of listening to the squirrels talk about the nuts and almonds they ate during sex.
Bjorn, who dismissed the incident as nothing serious, sat down at the desk by the window. The maid, who followed behind, stopped at an appropriate distance.
"I apologize, Your Highness. I wasn't informed in advance that you would be home soon, so I wasn't fully prepared."
“It’s okay. It’s just my whim.”
Bjorn answered calmly, picking up a blue notebook placed in the middle of the desk.
He was the one who broke off the takeover negotiations scheduled for this afternoon. It was too sunny to tolerate an opponent who, having had a chance to breathe, began to engage in sloppy bluffing. They, too, would need a few days to reflect on their situation with a clear mind, like this sky.
“Erna, what do you think?”
Bjorn sat with his legs crossed, his chin resting on the desk. The sound of papers being slowly turned sharply cut through the tranquil air of the room.
“I dare not judge Her Highness.”
Karen swallowed several times before finally answering. Bjorn, having examined the chart filled with familiar names, faced the maid with a smile.
"Is it so?"
“Yes, Your Highness.”
“That’s strange.”
Bjorn closed Erna's notebook, stood up, and leaned against the desk.
“But why does it seem to me like you’ve already made up your mind?”
His gaze, fixed on the head maid, still held a gentle smile.
***
The glasshouse facing the lake at Manchester Palace was built for the Princess.
Gladys, who was frail, spent her childhood at Manchester Palace, located on the outskirts of the capital. The King, taking pity on his young daughter, gifted her a greenhouse where she could enjoy beautiful flowers and butterflies year-round. It was a stark example of the royal family's devotion and love for their only Princess.
Erna sipped her indescribable tea and listened to the Princesses of Lars explain the history of the greenhouse. Indeed, the greenhouse, large and beautiful enough to be a source of pride, was filled with a variety of rare flowers and butterflies. It was a world of eternal spring, making one forget the seasons outside its glass walls.
“Come to think of it, it was in this greenhouse that I received the marriage proposal from Letzen.”
Gladys, who had been silent all along, spoke in a whisper.
"It was a truly beautiful letter. I've never seen a more beautiful one. I'm sure the proposal you received was like that, too."
The Princess's face, beaming as if reminiscing about a precious memory, was devoid of any shadow. The other members of the group, perplexed, seemed completely unconcerned.
It's no coincidence.
Erna put down her teacup, her conviction firm.
It was the head maid, Karen, who suggested a short outing to the lake near Manchester Palace. She said the water, beautifully blending with the forest, was a favorite spot for the Lars royal family. She explained that since it was just a short stroll, no special preparation or permission would be necessary.
The sudden kindness was somewhat suspicious, but she never imagined such a calculation could be made. By the time she realized her complacency, Erna was already facing the ladies of the Lars royal family, led by Princess Gladys.
“I received flowers instead of a letter, Princess. They were very pretty red roses.”
Erna answered calmly. Perhaps because it wasn't her first time, she was able to maintain a much more composed demeanor than during the chaotic tea party on board.
“You got married without receiving a proposal, did you?”
The Princess looked shocked, as if it were some great humiliation.
“Bjorn, indeed. A man who writes letters so well, yet so heartless.”
The Princess, who had let out a theatrical sigh, returned her gaze to Erna. Erna no longer averted her gaze.
The moment she'd offered to share tea with her to commemorate the miraculous coincidence, Erna knew what the Princess's intentions were. So, she decided not to run away. The previous incident was her fault, but today was different. She didn't want to cower before such obvious malice.
“Shall I show you my favorite flowers?”
Before Erna could even hear her answer, Gladys had already risen from the tea table. Erna, sensing her intentions, calmly accepted the invitation.
“Now speak, Princess.”
As the chatter among the ladies gathered around the tea table faded, Erna spoke first. The two, walking along the path filled with the rich fragrance of flowers, paused beneath the shade of a large palm tree.
“What are you saying, Grand Duchess?”
“I think you called me out separately because you have something to tell me.”
"I think there's been a misunderstanding. I just wanted to show you some beautiful flowers. The Grand Duchess seems to really like them."
Gladys, who slowly scanned Erna as if exploring, smiled brightly like a flower bed full of flowers.
Erna briefly averted her gaze to compose herself and saw a silver bell. The entire spacious flowerbed was filled solely with that flower.
No, it won't work.
Mrs. Fitz's firm answer to the request to use bellflowers in a bouquet came back to life in the sweet fragrance.
Absolutely not.
Her voice, as she emphasized it again, became even more stern. She had already vaguely guessed the reason, but facing the silver bells in the Princess's greenhouse, she was struck by the reality of her situation.
A half-daughter-in-law who must live in Princess Gladys' shadow for the rest of her life.
“It’s so beautiful.”
Gladys, who was looking at the flower bed where Erna's gaze was directed, continued speaking kindly as if nothing had happened.
“It’s my favorite flower. I guess the Grand Duchess likes it too?”
Gladys pointed to the silver bell flower decoration on Erna's hat with narrowed eyes.
"We have a lot in common. We like the same flowers, we like the same men... Oh. That might be a little rude. Sorry."
As her words became more brutal, Gladys's voice became lower and softer.
"There are also pink bellflowers. They're rare and can only be found in Lars, so I'll give you a few when you leave."
Gladys took the lead and began walking to the next flowerbed. After a moment of hesitation, Erna maintained her composure and followed the Princess. Gladys, who had been casually discussing flowers, revealed her true feelings only towards the end of their meaningless tour of the greenhouse.
“Do you know how much Crown Prince Bjorn was loved?”
Gladys, who was staring blankly at the crown-shaped flower, spoke, breaking the tense silence.
“I wanted to return the crown to Bjorn.”
Gladys turned to Erna and was no longer smiling.
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