72. It's a good thing in the end
Erna hadn't returned even after turning the last page.
Bjorn, beginning to grow bored, stood up. The attendants who had been waiting a distance away quickly followed him.
“What about Erna?”
Bjorn asked a soft question to the accompanying attendant.
“I received a message ten minutes ago saying Her Highness was still looking around the third floor.”
Bjorn nodded and turned toward the stairs leading to the third floor. The persistent glances followed him, but he ignored them. Even though it was a department store catering to the upper class, there was no way any of Pelia's royalty or nobility would recognize him. Even if they did, it was the same. It was simply a matter of preference.
As they reached the third floor, Bjorn's pace slowed considerably. The department store's interior was circular, with an empty center. It was designed to offer a panoramic view from a single vantage point.
“After we find out where the Her Highness is...”
“It’s over there.”
Bjorn nodded over the railing. Across the street from where he stood, a woman in a crimson dress stood in front of a store. It was too far away to make out her face, but Bjorn didn't doubt his judgment.
With his eyes fixed solely on his destination, Bjorn strode briskly forward. His demeanor was imbued with the elegant arrogance characteristic of someone oblivious to the presence of anyone blocking his path. Though many people were passing by, no one obstructed his progress.
Erna, who had been loitering in front of the shop window for a while, entered the shop just as he was closing in. Bjorn's eyes narrowed as he absentmindedly glanced at the sign. To his absurd surprise, it was a painting shop.
Are you planning to learn how to draw?
Just as he was about to dismiss it as nothing significant, Bjorn suddenly remembered the red-haired man. The promising painter from the Royal Academy of Arts who had attempted to run away with Erna.
Bjorn paused for a moment, looking at where Erna had stayed. A surge of strength filled his hand, but it didn't last long.
Just as the attendants, who had stopped walking one after another, began exchanging curious glances, Bjorn began walking again. Just then, Erna emerged from the shop.
“You’re here!”
Erna, who had spotted him, approached him with a bright smile. She looked no different from her usual self. Bjorn glanced at the maids carrying the boxes, then greeted his wife with a polite smile.
“I was just about to go to you anyway, since it was all over.”
Even though she met his eyes, Erna smiled without hesitation.
“Do you need anything too? Would you like me to help you choose it?”
"No."
Bjorn escorted his wife and walked away.
“No, Erna.”
Erna, who was quietly staring at his face with a perfect smile as if drawn on a green screen, only let out a small reply.
The awkward silence soon dissipated. Erna began to tell the story of the gift she'd chosen, and Bjorn listened attentively.
Passing by the artisan's display window, Bjorn briefly glanced at the items on display: a gold-plated artisan box and brushes.
It was an evening without anything special.
After leaving the department store, they took a short walk along the riverside and had dinner. But even then, Erna smiled more, brighter than usual. It was the same on the carriage ride back.
Bjorn tilted his head and watched his wife. Erna, who had just described the sights of the city she'd been so diligently exploring, was now absorbed in the scenery passing by the window. The flowers and feathers on her small, flat, brimmed hat fluttered with the carriage's bumps.
Bjorn tapped the handle of his loosely held cane and looked out the window, where Erna's gaze was focused. Gas lamps, ornate buildings, pedestrians. It was an ordinary city street.
It was when he caught sight of the bare branches of the trees passing by that he suddenly remembered that they were on their honeymoon during a season not conducive to travel. It was a stark contrast to his first honeymoon, which was filled with the ambiance of late spring and early summer. Of course, in that lush and beautiful world, the bride and groom were incredibly languid, so it couldn't have been a better honeymoon.
Watching Erna, constantly admiring the unsightly scenery, felt increasingly strange. He knew it wasn't a problem, but for some reason, it felt irritating. Just as this inexplicable irritation reached its peak, the cathedral bells rang.
Erna, who had been laughing like a child, soon flinched and backed away from the window. Recalling that day, she seemed to be newly embarrassed. The sight of her clearly revealing her true feelings soothed his heart.
“Why? Do you want to go up again?”
“No! Once is enough.”
Even though she made a face that seemed to be about to throw away her needles, Erna's eyes, looking at him, were clear and gentle.
"Still, I guess there's a reason everyone else does it. It seems to have some effect."
Erna, who had been staring intently into his eyes for a long time, whispered something he couldn't understand. She was a woman who sometimes had the talent to speak like a drunk while still sounding sane.
Erna smiled back at him with a sly grin. Bjorn leaned back against the backrest, his heart feeling lighter.
After all, they can always return to travel. They're a couple. They share the responsibility of spending countless seasons together.
“The Prince has already finished his preparations, so everyone, hurry!”
As the head maid's strict order was delivered, the maids' steps became busier.
It was the night of the Pelia royal family's farewell party, prepared to send off the Prince and Princess of Letzen. Even the maids, who usually despised the Grand Duchess, displayed unprecedented loyalty today. Even if they were to slander her, they should slander her. Still, they wouldn't want to see the wife of the Prince, once the Crown Prince of Letzen, humiliated in front of the Pelias.
Shoes, a fan, jewels. As each of the items diligently brought in was added, Erna became more and more beautiful. Even the maids' glances in the mirror began to reveal a hint of surprise.
The despised country bumpkin was nowhere to be seen, leaving behind a Princess who seemed to have lived a noble life. No one would have dared to imagine that just a few months ago, she had been a scandalous prospect, tossed to the bottom of the marriage market.
As the maid, wearing the gift necklace, stepped aside, Lisa approached, holding the last piece of jewelry. Erna gazed at the dazzling tiara with renewed tension. It was a gift from the Queen.
On the day she gave it to Erna, the Queen herself even put the tiara on her head.
"It's a very precious treasure to me. Please cherish it."
The Queen, with a most benevolent smile on her face, held Erna's hand tightly and urged her on. Though taken aback by her unfamiliar attitude, Erna, with the courtesy she had learned, promised to cherish it for the rest of her life.
The Queen, who had been staring blankly at Erna, finally nodded and released her tightly clenched hand after a long moment. It was a moment so intimate, yet somehow, a moment that left her heart aching.
Although she inherited several tiaras, Erna cherished the one the Queen had given her personally. When it came time to choose the tiara for her wedding, she chose this one without a second thought.
“It’s done, Your Highness.”
As Lisa, who had just put the tiara on her, stepped aside, Erna stood up and left the room. Passing through the long hallway and down the stairs, she met Bjorn's eyes waiting in the hall, and the faintest trace of fear melted away like snow.
Erna took his outstretched hand with a shy, excited smile.
It was a night that felt like a beautiful dream.
Even the suffocating, dazzling world felt alright with him. With Bjorn, with this man holding her trembling hand, everything felt okay. Even if she got hurt, she wanted to believe. Because she loved him.
Erna forgot everything.
The only thing that filled the blank space, where people's gazes, tension, and even her own feelings of intimidation and shame were forgotten, was Bjorn. She saw it. She felt it. Erna truly was like that.
That dazzlingly bright night often visited Erna.
Even in the sunrise over the sea, she watched from the deck, in the streets of Schwerin, both familiar and unfamiliar, in the still-oversized and unfamiliar Grand Duke's mansion, Erna saw that night. And then, as if by magic, everything became okay.
The love Erna knew was as bad as her husband's, but also as alluring as her husband's.
And so, in the end, it was all for the best. As the water began to rise from the bare branches of the trees, Erna reached her own conclusion. Even as the season for leaves and flowers to bloom arrived, that belief remained steadfast.
“Erna.”
A familiar voice was heard in the afterglow of a beautiful dream.
“Get up, Erna.”
This time, a faint smile permeated the voice.
As she slowly opened her eyes, the first thing she felt was a warm light. It was the spring sunlight, gently easing through the translucent curtains. And then she saw him. A beautiful dream smiling in that light. Bjorn.
"You were so proud of seeing the fountain's first operation. It's only a few minutes away."
The tip of a long finger playfully tapped the bridge of Erna's nose.
“...A fountain?”
Erna's eyes, which had been blankly asking questions, suddenly came into focus.
Fountain! The fountain is in operation!
Erna jumped up and jumped out of bed. Only after running to the door leading to the bedroom balcony did she realize she was naked.
Bjorn burst out laughing as he hurried back and hurriedly threw on his robe. He looked quite unsightly, but he didn't have time to think about it now.
Erna tied her belt and ran out to the balcony.
A few days ago, Madame Fitz had told her that spring had arrived and that the Grand Fountain at Schwerin Palace, which had been dormant during the winter, would be restarted. Erna, eager to see the first stream of water, had even memorized the date and time. She'd promised her today was the day, and now she was oversleeping. It was quite embarrassing, but now her anticipation was even greater.
“Bjorn, you too...”
Erna, who had turned to call him, flinched and trailed off. The bright spring sunlight illuminated Bjorn's naked body, just as he stepped out of bed. It was familiar now, but she couldn't help but feel embarrassed under the bright sunlight.
While Erna turned her head sharply and looked at the fountain, Bjorn, draped in a robe, emerged onto the balcony. Leaning against the railing, his shadow stretched across the sun-baked floor.
Erna held his hand gently, gazing at the fountain. At the end of the long canal stretching across the garden, the springtime river Abit sparkled.
As she squinted briefly at the dazzling light, dozens of fountains lining the slopes began to spurt water simultaneously. Erna's startled gasp mingled with the refreshing sound of the water.
Besides Erna, who was rejoicing like a child, Bjorn also quietly watched the sparkling water of the fountain.
Spring has already come.
It was his third season with his wife.
Erna hadn't returned even after turning the last page.
Bjorn, beginning to grow bored, stood up. The attendants who had been waiting a distance away quickly followed him.
“What about Erna?”
Bjorn asked a soft question to the accompanying attendant.
“I received a message ten minutes ago saying Her Highness was still looking around the third floor.”
Bjorn nodded and turned toward the stairs leading to the third floor. The persistent glances followed him, but he ignored them. Even though it was a department store catering to the upper class, there was no way any of Pelia's royalty or nobility would recognize him. Even if they did, it was the same. It was simply a matter of preference.
As they reached the third floor, Bjorn's pace slowed considerably. The department store's interior was circular, with an empty center. It was designed to offer a panoramic view from a single vantage point.
“After we find out where the Her Highness is...”
“It’s over there.”
Bjorn nodded over the railing. Across the street from where he stood, a woman in a crimson dress stood in front of a store. It was too far away to make out her face, but Bjorn didn't doubt his judgment.
With his eyes fixed solely on his destination, Bjorn strode briskly forward. His demeanor was imbued with the elegant arrogance characteristic of someone oblivious to the presence of anyone blocking his path. Though many people were passing by, no one obstructed his progress.
Erna, who had been loitering in front of the shop window for a while, entered the shop just as he was closing in. Bjorn's eyes narrowed as he absentmindedly glanced at the sign. To his absurd surprise, it was a painting shop.
Are you planning to learn how to draw?
Just as he was about to dismiss it as nothing significant, Bjorn suddenly remembered the red-haired man. The promising painter from the Royal Academy of Arts who had attempted to run away with Erna.
Bjorn paused for a moment, looking at where Erna had stayed. A surge of strength filled his hand, but it didn't last long.
Just as the attendants, who had stopped walking one after another, began exchanging curious glances, Bjorn began walking again. Just then, Erna emerged from the shop.
“You’re here!”
Erna, who had spotted him, approached him with a bright smile. She looked no different from her usual self. Bjorn glanced at the maids carrying the boxes, then greeted his wife with a polite smile.
“I was just about to go to you anyway, since it was all over.”
Even though she met his eyes, Erna smiled without hesitation.
“Do you need anything too? Would you like me to help you choose it?”
"No."
Bjorn escorted his wife and walked away.
“No, Erna.”
Erna, who was quietly staring at his face with a perfect smile as if drawn on a green screen, only let out a small reply.
The awkward silence soon dissipated. Erna began to tell the story of the gift she'd chosen, and Bjorn listened attentively.
Passing by the artisan's display window, Bjorn briefly glanced at the items on display: a gold-plated artisan box and brushes.
***
It was an evening without anything special.
After leaving the department store, they took a short walk along the riverside and had dinner. But even then, Erna smiled more, brighter than usual. It was the same on the carriage ride back.
Bjorn tilted his head and watched his wife. Erna, who had just described the sights of the city she'd been so diligently exploring, was now absorbed in the scenery passing by the window. The flowers and feathers on her small, flat, brimmed hat fluttered with the carriage's bumps.
Bjorn tapped the handle of his loosely held cane and looked out the window, where Erna's gaze was focused. Gas lamps, ornate buildings, pedestrians. It was an ordinary city street.
It was when he caught sight of the bare branches of the trees passing by that he suddenly remembered that they were on their honeymoon during a season not conducive to travel. It was a stark contrast to his first honeymoon, which was filled with the ambiance of late spring and early summer. Of course, in that lush and beautiful world, the bride and groom were incredibly languid, so it couldn't have been a better honeymoon.
Watching Erna, constantly admiring the unsightly scenery, felt increasingly strange. He knew it wasn't a problem, but for some reason, it felt irritating. Just as this inexplicable irritation reached its peak, the cathedral bells rang.
Erna, who had been laughing like a child, soon flinched and backed away from the window. Recalling that day, she seemed to be newly embarrassed. The sight of her clearly revealing her true feelings soothed his heart.
“Why? Do you want to go up again?”
“No! Once is enough.”
Even though she made a face that seemed to be about to throw away her needles, Erna's eyes, looking at him, were clear and gentle.
"Still, I guess there's a reason everyone else does it. It seems to have some effect."
Erna, who had been staring intently into his eyes for a long time, whispered something he couldn't understand. She was a woman who sometimes had the talent to speak like a drunk while still sounding sane.
Erna smiled back at him with a sly grin. Bjorn leaned back against the backrest, his heart feeling lighter.
After all, they can always return to travel. They're a couple. They share the responsibility of spending countless seasons together.
***
“The Prince has already finished his preparations, so everyone, hurry!”
As the head maid's strict order was delivered, the maids' steps became busier.
It was the night of the Pelia royal family's farewell party, prepared to send off the Prince and Princess of Letzen. Even the maids, who usually despised the Grand Duchess, displayed unprecedented loyalty today. Even if they were to slander her, they should slander her. Still, they wouldn't want to see the wife of the Prince, once the Crown Prince of Letzen, humiliated in front of the Pelias.
Shoes, a fan, jewels. As each of the items diligently brought in was added, Erna became more and more beautiful. Even the maids' glances in the mirror began to reveal a hint of surprise.
The despised country bumpkin was nowhere to be seen, leaving behind a Princess who seemed to have lived a noble life. No one would have dared to imagine that just a few months ago, she had been a scandalous prospect, tossed to the bottom of the marriage market.
As the maid, wearing the gift necklace, stepped aside, Lisa approached, holding the last piece of jewelry. Erna gazed at the dazzling tiara with renewed tension. It was a gift from the Queen.
On the day she gave it to Erna, the Queen herself even put the tiara on her head.
"It's a very precious treasure to me. Please cherish it."
The Queen, with a most benevolent smile on her face, held Erna's hand tightly and urged her on. Though taken aback by her unfamiliar attitude, Erna, with the courtesy she had learned, promised to cherish it for the rest of her life.
The Queen, who had been staring blankly at Erna, finally nodded and released her tightly clenched hand after a long moment. It was a moment so intimate, yet somehow, a moment that left her heart aching.
Although she inherited several tiaras, Erna cherished the one the Queen had given her personally. When it came time to choose the tiara for her wedding, she chose this one without a second thought.
“It’s done, Your Highness.”
As Lisa, who had just put the tiara on her, stepped aside, Erna stood up and left the room. Passing through the long hallway and down the stairs, she met Bjorn's eyes waiting in the hall, and the faintest trace of fear melted away like snow.
Erna took his outstretched hand with a shy, excited smile.
***
It was a night that felt like a beautiful dream.
Even the suffocating, dazzling world felt alright with him. With Bjorn, with this man holding her trembling hand, everything felt okay. Even if she got hurt, she wanted to believe. Because she loved him.
Erna forgot everything.
The only thing that filled the blank space, where people's gazes, tension, and even her own feelings of intimidation and shame were forgotten, was Bjorn. She saw it. She felt it. Erna truly was like that.
That dazzlingly bright night often visited Erna.
Even in the sunrise over the sea, she watched from the deck, in the streets of Schwerin, both familiar and unfamiliar, in the still-oversized and unfamiliar Grand Duke's mansion, Erna saw that night. And then, as if by magic, everything became okay.
The love Erna knew was as bad as her husband's, but also as alluring as her husband's.
And so, in the end, it was all for the best. As the water began to rise from the bare branches of the trees, Erna reached her own conclusion. Even as the season for leaves and flowers to bloom arrived, that belief remained steadfast.
“Erna.”
A familiar voice was heard in the afterglow of a beautiful dream.
“Get up, Erna.”
This time, a faint smile permeated the voice.
As she slowly opened her eyes, the first thing she felt was a warm light. It was the spring sunlight, gently easing through the translucent curtains. And then she saw him. A beautiful dream smiling in that light. Bjorn.
"You were so proud of seeing the fountain's first operation. It's only a few minutes away."
The tip of a long finger playfully tapped the bridge of Erna's nose.
“...A fountain?”
Erna's eyes, which had been blankly asking questions, suddenly came into focus.
Fountain! The fountain is in operation!
Erna jumped up and jumped out of bed. Only after running to the door leading to the bedroom balcony did she realize she was naked.
Bjorn burst out laughing as he hurried back and hurriedly threw on his robe. He looked quite unsightly, but he didn't have time to think about it now.
Erna tied her belt and ran out to the balcony.
A few days ago, Madame Fitz had told her that spring had arrived and that the Grand Fountain at Schwerin Palace, which had been dormant during the winter, would be restarted. Erna, eager to see the first stream of water, had even memorized the date and time. She'd promised her today was the day, and now she was oversleeping. It was quite embarrassing, but now her anticipation was even greater.
“Bjorn, you too...”
Erna, who had turned to call him, flinched and trailed off. The bright spring sunlight illuminated Bjorn's naked body, just as he stepped out of bed. It was familiar now, but she couldn't help but feel embarrassed under the bright sunlight.
While Erna turned her head sharply and looked at the fountain, Bjorn, draped in a robe, emerged onto the balcony. Leaning against the railing, his shadow stretched across the sun-baked floor.
Erna held his hand gently, gazing at the fountain. At the end of the long canal stretching across the garden, the springtime river Abit sparkled.
As she squinted briefly at the dazzling light, dozens of fountains lining the slopes began to spurt water simultaneously. Erna's startled gasp mingled with the refreshing sound of the water.
Besides Erna, who was rejoicing like a child, Bjorn also quietly watched the sparkling water of the fountain.
Spring has already come.
It was his third season with his wife.
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