107. Smile
“What about Erna?”
The maid, Karen, flinched and swallowed dryly at the words thrown by Bjorn in the hallway.
These days, Björn asks that question as a kind of greeting. Thanks to this, all the servants in the Grand Duchess's residence were diligently trying to keep track of the Grand Duchess's movements. While they weren't reprimanded for failing to answer properly, the Prince's look, as if he were looking at something useless, was quite humiliating.
“Her Highness is in the bedroom. I believe she is bathing.”
Karen successfully delivered the prepared answer.
Bjorn nodded, then crossed the hallway with a wider stride. His hurried pace only gradually returned to its original pace as he neared his wife's room.
From Duchess Arsene's outrageous remarks to Leonid's inappropriate behavior, it was a day filled with nerves. Adding to the frustration, a single letter drained Bjorn's last bit of patience.
The letter from Baroness Baden, addressed to him, not Erna, contained a request for her granddaughter to remain in the country house for the time being. Erna, with a weary face, calmly stated that she would accept the divorce if he so desired. His mind drifted over the letter. Could she now be mobilizing even her grandmother to try to force her out of this house?
“Prince!”
The maids screamed in shock as they saw Bjorn appear beyond the open bathroom door. Bjorn's footsteps, unconcerned, moved toward the other side of the partition, echoing through the bathroom, filled with the sweet scent of perfume.
“Get out of the way.”
Looking down at the maid blocking the bathtub, Bjorn gave a cold order.
“Oh, I haven’t finished bathing yet, so please go out...”
“Get out of the way.”
A faint hint of anger filled the voice as he commanded again. Her every nerve tingled, but Lisa didn't back down.
“Mr. Erickson said absolutely, absolutely not before next month!”
"What..?"
Bjorn's brow furrowed as he watched the maid with a solemn attitude.
“So, please be a little more patient and think of the child...”
“Lisa, are you crazy?”
Bjorn, understanding what the blushing maid had said, burst into laughter. Who does she think he is, a horny young beast? It was absurd, yet Lisa's face remained grave.
Should I cut it?
As he was seriously contemplating it, he heard the sound of water splashing.
“It’s okay, Lisa.”
Erna's voice that followed was calm, without any sign of caution.
“But Your Highness.”
“It’s okay, can you step aside for a moment?”
As her master slowly and carefully reassured her, Lisa reluctantly took a step back. Even so, she didn't forget to glance at him with a look of utter disapproval.
Should I really cut it?
While Bjorn was pondering the specifics, the gatekeeper of hell left. The summer evening light streaming through the wide windows filled the bathroom, where only the two of them were left, with warm colors.
Bjorn stared at his wife, momentarily forgetting why he had stormed here so boldly. Erna, curled up on the edge of the bathtub, looked even smaller and thinner today. Her skin, smoother and more radiant with the water, was bathed in gold, the color of a languid summer evening.
“The belly...”
Bjorn's gaze, which was slowly moving downwards, stopped on a flat stomach submerged in water.
A completely different, stupid remark slipped out unconsciously. He realized it too late, but Bjorn paid it no mind.
“It’s still a little bit sore now, but... according to my doctor, it’ll probably take about a week or two for it to show clearly.”
Erna answered hesitantly, her expression slightly embarrassed.
“Really? I’m not sure yet.”
Bjorn leaned against the window and studied Erna carefully.
“I know for sure, but.”
His gaze, slowly moving upward, stopped on her swollen chest. The change was even more apparent because her shoulders were thinner than before, due to poor eating.
Erna, her cheeks flushed once more, avoided eye contact, hugged her knees, and bowed her head. Her wife's resurgent wariness reminded him of the reason he was here. But the rage, already fading, was no longer effective.
When he calmed down and thought about it, it was a ridiculous fantasy.
Erna wasn't the kind of woman to exploit her grandmother in such a way. Baroness Baden was no different. She was simply worried about her granddaughter, who was struggling with her pregnancy. The realization that came upon him as he understood her true feelings left Bjorn devastated.
“Please hurry and say something...”
Erna, who had caught her breath, looked up at him with an embarrassed expression.
Bjorn slowly wiped his face, his gaze wandering over her chest. He let out a few soft sighs as he repeatedly relaxed his clenched fists. He felt like a hopeless idiot, suddenly missing the maid he was about to cut.
“Let’s eat dinner together.”
An unexpected word suddenly came out.
“I’ll get it ready.”
With those words, Bjorn left the bathroom. As he flung open the door, the maids waiting beyond it screeched and backed away.
Passing by the gatekeeper of hell, who was looking at him with suspicion, Bjorn left his wife's room with his usual gait.
As the door closed behind him, a laugh escaped him. Blue veins and joints bulged clearly on the back of his hand as he ran his fingers through his hair.
“You crazy bastard.”
Bjorn muttered with a hollow laugh and began walking down the hallway with his shadow growing longer.
The dinner table, where the Grand Duke and Duchess were together for the first time in a while, was set on the balcony overlooking the fountain and garden.
Erna sat down at the table, dressed in her usual indoor dress. Bjorn, who had arrived early, greeted her with a gentle gaze and smile. It was as if she had returned to the sweet, false days of uneventful days.
Erna tried to force a bright smile, as if to erase the feeling of emptiness. She hoped it would be the beautiful harmony this man desired. That was all Bjorn wanted, and all she could give him.
It was a pleasant summer night, with a cool breeze. As the darkness deepened, the candlelight illuminating the table grew brighter. The conversation was soft and affectionate, and the food was delicious.
“The Baroness sent me a letter.”
Bjorn brought up the unexpected topic just as Erna had just finished her last bite of sea bass. Erna, having forgotten to chew, stared at Bjorn with wide eyes.
“She was wondering if I could let you stay at the Baden House for a while.”
Grandma. Erna tried not to think about her, fearing her heart would weaken, but that longed-for face floated into the round, diffused light.
She desperately wanted to be with her grandmother, but ultimately, she had no choice but to lie. The thought of someone who had suffered a heart attack and collapsed from last summer's scandal, witnessing her granddaughter's situation firsthand, was daunting. In that case, it would have been better to hear about it from afar, only through diluted news.
But if she can get to Buford.
As the words she's been too embarrassed to speak flowed from Bjorn's lips, her heart began to race. It was a pleasant thrill she hadn't felt in a long time.
“Did you reply?”
Erna, who had quickly drunk water and swallowed her food, asked a question. Bjorn nodded and took hold of his wine glass.
“I told her that I thought it would be better for you to stay here.”
He smiled lightly and took a sip of wine.
"It's better for the child here, where I can call a doctor at any time, rather than in the deep countryside. It would be difficult for a weak body to make the long journey to Burford."
His smiling, crimson lips sparkled with a delicate light. Erna's eyes, watching Bjorn, deepened like an empty well.
"...yes."
Erna smiled quietly and nodded.
Yes.
The answer wasn't so difficult anymore.
Everything Bjorn said was right. Erna was fully convinced that it was the most rational decision and the best course for her child. So all she had to do was accept it.
“Instead, invite the Baroness here...”
"No."
The same was true of the answer that cut off Bjorn's proposal.
“It’s okay. I just like it the way it is.”
Erna smiled again, this time brighter.
All the words that were lightly scattered seemed too easy. Then, even a fleeting glance, a brief reply, seemed endlessly difficult, and the past year, filled with anxiety, suddenly felt meaningless. The path to becoming Bjorn's good wife had been so easy, after all. Alone, she had been desperately wandering, wading through thorny bushes, down a path that wasn't a path.
“Erna.”
"Really. It's okay, Bjorn. Thank you for your concern."
With that greeting, Erna averted her gaze from Bjorn. The awkward silence didn't last long, as the next dish arrived just in time.
The breeze blowing from the river was now cool enough to make the midday heat seem insignificant. The sound of the fountain's water gushing in the light of the lanterns added to the refreshing charm of the summer night.
Although it wasn't quite the same as usual, Erna still looked noticeably brighter. Bjorn knew it was a formal smile, but he didn't add much.
It's going to be hard to go back to the way things were right now.
Bjorn accepted the fact and filled his empty glass.
After emptying and refilling the glass, he looked up and saw Erna quietly gazing down at the fountain. Bjorn couldn't look away for a long moment from the sight of her windblown hair, the light blue ribbon, and the white linen dress that enveloped her slender body.
When he decided to marry Erna, he already had a plan for Walter Hardy's fate. Tolerance within reasonable limits. Dissolution if he crossed those lines. Nowhere in the world did such a scenario exist.
He never had the heart to divorce because of Walter Hardy, but he also didn't have the will to deal with the aftermath so enthusiastically. He simply thought he could cut him out of his life and forget about him. He never considered Erna's situation. Even if she had to endure some hardships by his side, it would be the best life she could have.
That's right.
Bjorn's eyes wavered slightly as he refilled the glass he had hastily emptied.
It should have been so.
The freshly filled glass quickly emptied, but the intense thirst remained unquenched. Even then, his gaze remained fixed on Erna, who wasn't looking at him.
Bjorn had to pay a considerable settlement fee to get Walter Hardy out of prison. He didn't hesitate. He provided the Hardy family with a decent living in the countryside after they left the city. He didn't hesitate either.
He only thought of Erna.
The reason for the tolerance that he couldn't even understand came to him with a faint intoxication.
He could have cared less if Walter Hardy had gone to prison, if his remaining wife and children had been left on the streets. But not Erna. He hoped the rest of her life, the life she would live as his wife, would be a little less difficult. Even if the shadow cast by Gladys's name could not be helped, he could easily erase the stain left by her incompetent father. And so he did. He willingly paid an absurd price just to have the gaze and smile of this woman who looked at him as if in a dream.
But why you?
Bjorn's gaze grew increasingly anxious as he realized the wine bottle was empty. Erna still hadn't looked at him.
Why is this happening to me?
Bjorn, who had changed his mind about ringing the bell, closed his eyes tightly to clear his mind of distracting thoughts. When he opened them again, his gaze had returned to that of a cool-headed banker.
“Erna.”
When he called her name calmly, Erna finally looked at him. Her clean face was beautiful, but it wasn't the price he paid for it.
“Smile.”
There was nothing left on Bjorn's calm face that could be called an expression as he demanded without hesitation.
Erna blinked her dazed eyes slowly a few times, then smiled innocently like a good child. It wasn't the same as before, but it was enough to justify the decision. Time would pass anyway, and Erna was carrying their child. It was inevitable that he would win.
"Again."
His voice, which had become much softer, now had the original composure of Bjorn Dneister.
After a moment of hesitation, Erna smiled again, even more beautifully than before.
He deserved it.
“What about Erna?”
The maid, Karen, flinched and swallowed dryly at the words thrown by Bjorn in the hallway.
These days, Björn asks that question as a kind of greeting. Thanks to this, all the servants in the Grand Duchess's residence were diligently trying to keep track of the Grand Duchess's movements. While they weren't reprimanded for failing to answer properly, the Prince's look, as if he were looking at something useless, was quite humiliating.
“Her Highness is in the bedroom. I believe she is bathing.”
Karen successfully delivered the prepared answer.
Bjorn nodded, then crossed the hallway with a wider stride. His hurried pace only gradually returned to its original pace as he neared his wife's room.
From Duchess Arsene's outrageous remarks to Leonid's inappropriate behavior, it was a day filled with nerves. Adding to the frustration, a single letter drained Bjorn's last bit of patience.
The letter from Baroness Baden, addressed to him, not Erna, contained a request for her granddaughter to remain in the country house for the time being. Erna, with a weary face, calmly stated that she would accept the divorce if he so desired. His mind drifted over the letter. Could she now be mobilizing even her grandmother to try to force her out of this house?
“Prince!”
The maids screamed in shock as they saw Bjorn appear beyond the open bathroom door. Bjorn's footsteps, unconcerned, moved toward the other side of the partition, echoing through the bathroom, filled with the sweet scent of perfume.
“Get out of the way.”
Looking down at the maid blocking the bathtub, Bjorn gave a cold order.
“Oh, I haven’t finished bathing yet, so please go out...”
“Get out of the way.”
A faint hint of anger filled the voice as he commanded again. Her every nerve tingled, but Lisa didn't back down.
“Mr. Erickson said absolutely, absolutely not before next month!”
"What..?"
Bjorn's brow furrowed as he watched the maid with a solemn attitude.
“So, please be a little more patient and think of the child...”
“Lisa, are you crazy?”
Bjorn, understanding what the blushing maid had said, burst into laughter. Who does she think he is, a horny young beast? It was absurd, yet Lisa's face remained grave.
Should I cut it?
As he was seriously contemplating it, he heard the sound of water splashing.
“It’s okay, Lisa.”
Erna's voice that followed was calm, without any sign of caution.
“But Your Highness.”
“It’s okay, can you step aside for a moment?”
As her master slowly and carefully reassured her, Lisa reluctantly took a step back. Even so, she didn't forget to glance at him with a look of utter disapproval.
Should I really cut it?
While Bjorn was pondering the specifics, the gatekeeper of hell left. The summer evening light streaming through the wide windows filled the bathroom, where only the two of them were left, with warm colors.
Bjorn stared at his wife, momentarily forgetting why he had stormed here so boldly. Erna, curled up on the edge of the bathtub, looked even smaller and thinner today. Her skin, smoother and more radiant with the water, was bathed in gold, the color of a languid summer evening.
“The belly...”
Bjorn's gaze, which was slowly moving downwards, stopped on a flat stomach submerged in water.
“When did they start calling it a belly?”
“It’s still a little bit sore now, but... according to my doctor, it’ll probably take about a week or two for it to show clearly.”
Erna answered hesitantly, her expression slightly embarrassed.
“Really? I’m not sure yet.”
Bjorn leaned against the window and studied Erna carefully.
“I know for sure, but.”
His gaze, slowly moving upward, stopped on her swollen chest. The change was even more apparent because her shoulders were thinner than before, due to poor eating.
Erna, her cheeks flushed once more, avoided eye contact, hugged her knees, and bowed her head. Her wife's resurgent wariness reminded him of the reason he was here. But the rage, already fading, was no longer effective.
When he calmed down and thought about it, it was a ridiculous fantasy.
Erna wasn't the kind of woman to exploit her grandmother in such a way. Baroness Baden was no different. She was simply worried about her granddaughter, who was struggling with her pregnancy. The realization that came upon him as he understood her true feelings left Bjorn devastated.
“Please hurry and say something...”
Erna, who had caught her breath, looked up at him with an embarrassed expression.
Bjorn slowly wiped his face, his gaze wandering over her chest. He let out a few soft sighs as he repeatedly relaxed his clenched fists. He felt like a hopeless idiot, suddenly missing the maid he was about to cut.
“Let’s eat dinner together.”
An unexpected word suddenly came out.
“I’ll get it ready.”
With those words, Bjorn left the bathroom. As he flung open the door, the maids waiting beyond it screeched and backed away.
Passing by the gatekeeper of hell, who was looking at him with suspicion, Bjorn left his wife's room with his usual gait.
As the door closed behind him, a laugh escaped him. Blue veins and joints bulged clearly on the back of his hand as he ran his fingers through his hair.
“You crazy bastard.”
Bjorn muttered with a hollow laugh and began walking down the hallway with his shadow growing longer.
***
The dinner table, where the Grand Duke and Duchess were together for the first time in a while, was set on the balcony overlooking the fountain and garden.
Erna sat down at the table, dressed in her usual indoor dress. Bjorn, who had arrived early, greeted her with a gentle gaze and smile. It was as if she had returned to the sweet, false days of uneventful days.
Erna tried to force a bright smile, as if to erase the feeling of emptiness. She hoped it would be the beautiful harmony this man desired. That was all Bjorn wanted, and all she could give him.
It was a pleasant summer night, with a cool breeze. As the darkness deepened, the candlelight illuminating the table grew brighter. The conversation was soft and affectionate, and the food was delicious.
“The Baroness sent me a letter.”
Bjorn brought up the unexpected topic just as Erna had just finished her last bite of sea bass. Erna, having forgotten to chew, stared at Bjorn with wide eyes.
“She was wondering if I could let you stay at the Baden House for a while.”
Grandma. Erna tried not to think about her, fearing her heart would weaken, but that longed-for face floated into the round, diffused light.
She desperately wanted to be with her grandmother, but ultimately, she had no choice but to lie. The thought of someone who had suffered a heart attack and collapsed from last summer's scandal, witnessing her granddaughter's situation firsthand, was daunting. In that case, it would have been better to hear about it from afar, only through diluted news.
But if she can get to Buford.
As the words she's been too embarrassed to speak flowed from Bjorn's lips, her heart began to race. It was a pleasant thrill she hadn't felt in a long time.
“Did you reply?”
Erna, who had quickly drunk water and swallowed her food, asked a question. Bjorn nodded and took hold of his wine glass.
“I told her that I thought it would be better for you to stay here.”
He smiled lightly and took a sip of wine.
"It's better for the child here, where I can call a doctor at any time, rather than in the deep countryside. It would be difficult for a weak body to make the long journey to Burford."
His smiling, crimson lips sparkled with a delicate light. Erna's eyes, watching Bjorn, deepened like an empty well.
"...yes."
Erna smiled quietly and nodded.
Yes.
The answer wasn't so difficult anymore.
Everything Bjorn said was right. Erna was fully convinced that it was the most rational decision and the best course for her child. So all she had to do was accept it.
“Instead, invite the Baroness here...”
"No."
The same was true of the answer that cut off Bjorn's proposal.
“It’s okay. I just like it the way it is.”
Erna smiled again, this time brighter.
All the words that were lightly scattered seemed too easy. Then, even a fleeting glance, a brief reply, seemed endlessly difficult, and the past year, filled with anxiety, suddenly felt meaningless. The path to becoming Bjorn's good wife had been so easy, after all. Alone, she had been desperately wandering, wading through thorny bushes, down a path that wasn't a path.
“Erna.”
"Really. It's okay, Bjorn. Thank you for your concern."
With that greeting, Erna averted her gaze from Bjorn. The awkward silence didn't last long, as the next dish arrived just in time.
The breeze blowing from the river was now cool enough to make the midday heat seem insignificant. The sound of the fountain's water gushing in the light of the lanterns added to the refreshing charm of the summer night.
Although it wasn't quite the same as usual, Erna still looked noticeably brighter. Bjorn knew it was a formal smile, but he didn't add much.
It's going to be hard to go back to the way things were right now.
Bjorn accepted the fact and filled his empty glass.
After emptying and refilling the glass, he looked up and saw Erna quietly gazing down at the fountain. Bjorn couldn't look away for a long moment from the sight of her windblown hair, the light blue ribbon, and the white linen dress that enveloped her slender body.
When he decided to marry Erna, he already had a plan for Walter Hardy's fate. Tolerance within reasonable limits. Dissolution if he crossed those lines. Nowhere in the world did such a scenario exist.
He never had the heart to divorce because of Walter Hardy, but he also didn't have the will to deal with the aftermath so enthusiastically. He simply thought he could cut him out of his life and forget about him. He never considered Erna's situation. Even if she had to endure some hardships by his side, it would be the best life she could have.
That's right.
Bjorn's eyes wavered slightly as he refilled the glass he had hastily emptied.
It should have been so.
The freshly filled glass quickly emptied, but the intense thirst remained unquenched. Even then, his gaze remained fixed on Erna, who wasn't looking at him.
Bjorn had to pay a considerable settlement fee to get Walter Hardy out of prison. He didn't hesitate. He provided the Hardy family with a decent living in the countryside after they left the city. He didn't hesitate either.
He only thought of Erna.
The reason for the tolerance that he couldn't even understand came to him with a faint intoxication.
He could have cared less if Walter Hardy had gone to prison, if his remaining wife and children had been left on the streets. But not Erna. He hoped the rest of her life, the life she would live as his wife, would be a little less difficult. Even if the shadow cast by Gladys's name could not be helped, he could easily erase the stain left by her incompetent father. And so he did. He willingly paid an absurd price just to have the gaze and smile of this woman who looked at him as if in a dream.
But why you?
Bjorn's gaze grew increasingly anxious as he realized the wine bottle was empty. Erna still hadn't looked at him.
Why is this happening to me?
Bjorn, who had changed his mind about ringing the bell, closed his eyes tightly to clear his mind of distracting thoughts. When he opened them again, his gaze had returned to that of a cool-headed banker.
“Erna.”
When he called her name calmly, Erna finally looked at him. Her clean face was beautiful, but it wasn't the price he paid for it.
“Smile.”
There was nothing left on Bjorn's calm face that could be called an expression as he demanded without hesitation.
Erna blinked her dazed eyes slowly a few times, then smiled innocently like a good child. It wasn't the same as before, but it was enough to justify the decision. Time would pass anyway, and Erna was carrying their child. It was inevitable that he would win.
"Again."
His voice, which had become much softer, now had the original composure of Bjorn Dneister.
After a moment of hesitation, Erna smiled again, even more beautifully than before.
He deserved it.
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