117. Next, next
The uninvited guest was received with some kind of hospitality.
Of course, Duchess Arsene was openly displeased, but she at least extended the tolerance to sit at the same table and converse. That was tantamount to forgiving her grandson for deceiving her.
So he only saw Erna.
Throughout dinner, Bjorn remained like this. Erna smiled. Erna ate silently. Erna looked much more at ease. But Erna still seemed so close yet so far away, driving him mad. Even as he mocked himself, his gaze remained fixed on his wife.
He's disrupted his entire schedule today to attend this dinner.
The bank board meeting, originally scheduled for the afternoon, was moved to the early morning, and the luncheon was scheduled to begin an hour earlier. Those familiar with the Prince, who rarely worked in the mornings, were taken aback, but Bjorn maintained a composed demeanor. He knew it wasn't a situation he should have gone out of his way to attend, but he ignored it. He had been like that throughout his unusual day, and he still remains so.
“It’s already this late.”
Duchess Arsene glanced at her grandson and changed the subject.
“It’s not the time to overdo it yet, so just go back for today.”
She signaled the end of the leisurely dinner by placing a napkin on the table.
“I would like to hold on to it a little longer, but I can’t just satisfy my own greed.”
Duchess Arsene's gaze, which had been observing the Grand Duchess, who looked slightly weary, turned back to her grandson. She had invited Erna to stay a day or so, but the wolf who had come all this way in search of her wife seemed unlikely to tolerate such a thing.
Well, where would that bloodline go?
Considering Philippe's newlywed days, when he was competent in everything but acted like a slacker with a few screws loose around his wife, inviting trouble, his son's behavior was understandable. It seemed clear that the wolves of Dneister were not good at applying their brilliant minds to romantic affairs.
When his eyes met Duchess Arsene's, Bjorn smiled and nodded. It was a gesture so elegant it seemed even more shameless.
She gazed blankly at the masterpiece born from the union of Dneister's pride and Arsene's stubbornness, then quietly clicked her tongue, her face devoid of fighting spirit. Still, she was fortunate that if properly trained, he would become a worthy husband. Of course, the process would be quite arduous.
The dinner at the Arsene family, interrupted by the Prince's intrusion, ended earlier than scheduled. The Duchess consoled her disappointment by escorting her guest to the carriage.
“You’re making quite a fuss.”
After Erna got into the carriage first, she lowered her voice and scolded her grandson. As expected, Bjorn didn't even raise an eyebrow.
"If it's going to be like this, why don't you try dating for once? That talent is quite useful, isn't it?"
“Are you drunk?”
Despite the serious advice, Bjorn remained sly.
“Even if I were drunk, I’d be better at romance than the Dniesters.”
“Erna is my wife, Grandma.”
“Who said no?”
Bjorn, who had been quietly looking at Duchess Arsene, who was asking a question calmly, answered with a light laugh.
As Bjorn, after a polite bow, entered the carriage, Duchess Arsene also turned away. The child was far more arrogant than her father, and Erna was as stubborn as Isabelle in her day. The future for the Grand Duchess and her husband seemed uncertain.
“I don’t know why the wolves of Dneister always fall in love with their enemies.”
Duchess Arsene, who had returned to the drawing room, clicked her tongue and muttered. Charlotte, whose tail had been languidly wagging, meowed in agreement.
Erna woke up as the carriage passed through the busy street.
She was clearly staring out the window into the darkness. She couldn't remember when she had dozed off.
“Sleep a little more.”
A low, soft voice came from above.
Erna, who had been staring blankly at the city's gaslights flashing past the carriage window, suddenly looked up in surprise. Bjorn was looking down at her with eyes as calm as the deep night.
“Oh, no.”
Erna quickly sat up. Her cheeks flushed as she realized she had fallen asleep leaning against her husband's shoulder.
"It's okay."
Erna, who had caught her breath, first tidied up her messy hair.
"Sorry."
She also corrected the collar of the dress and the shape of the corsage, which seemed a little crooked.
Erna, who had been trembling with useless diligence, finally became quiet as the carriage entered the riverside road. Bjorn's eyes narrowed as he watched his wife, who had lowered her head.
“Aren’t you grateful?”
Erna's shoulders flinched at the question, thrown so casually. He wished she'd just repeat that annoying greeting, but Erna's lips tightened, irritating Bjorn's nerves.
The sound of horses' hooves accelerating filled the quiet carriage. Erna looked anxiously out the window, and Bjorn watched his wife with a persistent gaze.
Everything seemed to be going smoothly.
Even in the moment he offered his shoulder to the dozing Erna, Bjorn was certain of that. The carriage stopped in front of the illuminated mansion. Erna woke up. A smile spread across her delicate face. The thought of returning to that sweet routine made him feel a pang of impatience.
But in the end, it's back to square one.
Bjorn's throat moved roughly as he took a deep breath.
“Erna.”
Bjorn called the name impulsively. His hands, stroking the handle of his cane, were uncharacteristically anxious, but he had no time to acknowledge it.
Erna, who had been staring intently at the darkness outside the window, carefully turned her head to face Bjorn. Her eyes, so clear and empty, felt like they were suffocating him. Even in these moments, the woman she loved seemed like a sweet curse.
“That thing, Erna.”
After much deliberation, Bjorn finally spoke. Erna, lost in thought for a moment, tilted her head slightly.
“Is that it?”
“The story of my divorce from Gladys that you wanted to hear.”
"Ah..."
"It was a secret between nations. A promise made in exchange for immense national benefit, one that was kept secret forever. It was a promise I chose, and therefore, one I was responsible for."
Looking directly at his wife's frozen face, Bjorn continued speaking calmly.
The day he decided to tell her everything, she miscarried. For a while, there was no time for such a conversation, and once the uproar had subsided, the situation became ambiguous. He decided there was no need to bring up the now-meaningless topic and reopen the wounds, so he kept it quiet. But looking back, that may have been nothing more than a cowardly evasion.
“If you tell me... do you think that confidentiality won’t be maintained?”
Erna slowly opened her eyes and asked in a trembling voice.
“It wasn’t a question of trust, Erna.”
“Or what?”
"The secret pact with Lars was made under the premise that only my father, mother, and Leonid would know about it in Letzen. Therefore, I had a duty to uphold that principle. Even if it had been anyone other than you, it wouldn't have made any difference."
"...Yes."
Erna nodded in agreement.
Bjorn was right. Such was the nature of secrecy, and as the Prince of Letzen, before being a woman's husband, this man had a duty to serve the national interest. She dared not blame him for that.
She understands. It had to be that way. But...
“But Bjorn.”
An unexpected word came out impulsively.
“You were the one who saw firsthand how hard it was for me.”
Erna's wet voice began to tremble slightly.
“Our baby...”
The moment the words she had been holding back burst out, she unconsciously grabbed the hem of her skirt.
"If the poet's will had never been published, and our baby had been born while the matter remained secret, Bjorn, then that child, like me, would have lived in the shadow of Princess Gladys and her child."
“I guess so.”
Bjorn nodded calmly.
And yet you kept the secret from us till the end?
Erna couldn't bring herself to ask that question, which was on the tip of her tongue. She felt like she already knew the answer. She knew that hearing it would break her heart.
“Even if that were the case, Erna, I would have compensated you and my child sufficiently in some other way.”
Compensation.
While she was quietly whispering those words, a carriage pulled into the lighted bridge.
Erna pressed her hot eyes tightly against her hands, folding them neatly on her knees. She even steadied her ragged breathing.
Bjorn was a faithful husband.
Although it wasn't what Erna had envisioned, it was certainly true. He had a purpose for his wife, and within that framework, he treated her faithfully. So, he must have been a father to his child as well. There was no doubt about that.
“Erna, anyway, everything is resolved now.”
Bjorn's large hand cupped her cheek. Erna nodded slightly, agreeing with the undeniable truth.
The myth of Gladys was shattered. No one now wanted her to become Princess Letzen again. People now call Erna the heroine. A wife who stood by her husband with unwavering love. A true noblewoman, worthy of being a Queen.
Her father, too, could no longer torment Erna. His miserable downfall and banishment to the outskirts were a punishment for his past misdeeds. Bjorn had done just that.
The fairytale heroine, having endured all trials and tribulations and been saved by a beautiful Prince, was now ready to find happiness. It was the perfect ending Erna had longed for.
So she couldn't say anything.
Every time she saw the royal children playing in the summer palace, she feared that her child, destined to live in this world, would be hated and left behind like her. Even if she confessed that she truly hated herself for not being a worthy Princess like Princess Gladys, nothing would change.
All such an incompetent mother could do was pray that her child would resemble her father. She hoped no one would find a trace of her in him. She couldn't pass on to her child the sadness of wanting to dye her hair in sunlight.
She can't even begin to imagine how desperately she prayed every night that he wouldn't become a misplaced bead, that his life would shine only with the golden light of his father. But now that he's gone, it's all meaningless.
Next. Next.
Yes. As people say, it was time to turn the page. Forget the misery and pain that had created, and move toward the happiness that had miraculously arrived.
That was it. It was that easy.
“If you need more explanation, feel free to ask...”
"No."
Erna cut him off in a firm tone.
"I already know all this because I read that book. It must have been difficult for you, too, so there's no need to explain it again."
I strained my eyes to keep from crying. I even tried to raise the corners of my lips to smile. But nothing worked as I wanted.
"Just as you said, everything's resolved now, and I'm fine. Really. So, Bjorn, please..."
Erna pleaded with a face like a clown, unable to cry or laugh. Her heart was even more desperate than that night, when she had clung to him, desperate to hear even a lie.
“Don’t do that.”
Her vision was blurred, but thankfully, no tears flowed. Erna was able to force a little more force into her lips.
As the carriage crossed the bridge of lights, the Prince came and kissed her.
After a moment of hesitation, Erna obediently closed her eyes and opened her lips.
It wasn't that difficult.
The uninvited guest was received with some kind of hospitality.
Of course, Duchess Arsene was openly displeased, but she at least extended the tolerance to sit at the same table and converse. That was tantamount to forgiving her grandson for deceiving her.
So he only saw Erna.
Throughout dinner, Bjorn remained like this. Erna smiled. Erna ate silently. Erna looked much more at ease. But Erna still seemed so close yet so far away, driving him mad. Even as he mocked himself, his gaze remained fixed on his wife.
He's disrupted his entire schedule today to attend this dinner.
The bank board meeting, originally scheduled for the afternoon, was moved to the early morning, and the luncheon was scheduled to begin an hour earlier. Those familiar with the Prince, who rarely worked in the mornings, were taken aback, but Bjorn maintained a composed demeanor. He knew it wasn't a situation he should have gone out of his way to attend, but he ignored it. He had been like that throughout his unusual day, and he still remains so.
“It’s already this late.”
Duchess Arsene glanced at her grandson and changed the subject.
“It’s not the time to overdo it yet, so just go back for today.”
She signaled the end of the leisurely dinner by placing a napkin on the table.
“I would like to hold on to it a little longer, but I can’t just satisfy my own greed.”
Duchess Arsene's gaze, which had been observing the Grand Duchess, who looked slightly weary, turned back to her grandson. She had invited Erna to stay a day or so, but the wolf who had come all this way in search of her wife seemed unlikely to tolerate such a thing.
Well, where would that bloodline go?
Considering Philippe's newlywed days, when he was competent in everything but acted like a slacker with a few screws loose around his wife, inviting trouble, his son's behavior was understandable. It seemed clear that the wolves of Dneister were not good at applying their brilliant minds to romantic affairs.
When his eyes met Duchess Arsene's, Bjorn smiled and nodded. It was a gesture so elegant it seemed even more shameless.
She gazed blankly at the masterpiece born from the union of Dneister's pride and Arsene's stubbornness, then quietly clicked her tongue, her face devoid of fighting spirit. Still, she was fortunate that if properly trained, he would become a worthy husband. Of course, the process would be quite arduous.
The dinner at the Arsene family, interrupted by the Prince's intrusion, ended earlier than scheduled. The Duchess consoled her disappointment by escorting her guest to the carriage.
“You’re making quite a fuss.”
After Erna got into the carriage first, she lowered her voice and scolded her grandson. As expected, Bjorn didn't even raise an eyebrow.
"If it's going to be like this, why don't you try dating for once? That talent is quite useful, isn't it?"
“Are you drunk?”
Despite the serious advice, Bjorn remained sly.
“Even if I were drunk, I’d be better at romance than the Dniesters.”
“Erna is my wife, Grandma.”
“Who said no?”
Bjorn, who had been quietly looking at Duchess Arsene, who was asking a question calmly, answered with a light laugh.
As Bjorn, after a polite bow, entered the carriage, Duchess Arsene also turned away. The child was far more arrogant than her father, and Erna was as stubborn as Isabelle in her day. The future for the Grand Duchess and her husband seemed uncertain.
“I don’t know why the wolves of Dneister always fall in love with their enemies.”
Duchess Arsene, who had returned to the drawing room, clicked her tongue and muttered. Charlotte, whose tail had been languidly wagging, meowed in agreement.
***
Erna woke up as the carriage passed through the busy street.
She was clearly staring out the window into the darkness. She couldn't remember when she had dozed off.
“Sleep a little more.”
A low, soft voice came from above.
Erna, who had been staring blankly at the city's gaslights flashing past the carriage window, suddenly looked up in surprise. Bjorn was looking down at her with eyes as calm as the deep night.
“Oh, no.”
Erna quickly sat up. Her cheeks flushed as she realized she had fallen asleep leaning against her husband's shoulder.
"It's okay."
Erna, who had caught her breath, first tidied up her messy hair.
"Sorry."
She also corrected the collar of the dress and the shape of the corsage, which seemed a little crooked.
Erna, who had been trembling with useless diligence, finally became quiet as the carriage entered the riverside road. Bjorn's eyes narrowed as he watched his wife, who had lowered her head.
“Aren’t you grateful?”
Erna's shoulders flinched at the question, thrown so casually. He wished she'd just repeat that annoying greeting, but Erna's lips tightened, irritating Bjorn's nerves.
The sound of horses' hooves accelerating filled the quiet carriage. Erna looked anxiously out the window, and Bjorn watched his wife with a persistent gaze.
Everything seemed to be going smoothly.
Even in the moment he offered his shoulder to the dozing Erna, Bjorn was certain of that. The carriage stopped in front of the illuminated mansion. Erna woke up. A smile spread across her delicate face. The thought of returning to that sweet routine made him feel a pang of impatience.
But in the end, it's back to square one.
Bjorn's throat moved roughly as he took a deep breath.
“Erna.”
Bjorn called the name impulsively. His hands, stroking the handle of his cane, were uncharacteristically anxious, but he had no time to acknowledge it.
Erna, who had been staring intently at the darkness outside the window, carefully turned her head to face Bjorn. Her eyes, so clear and empty, felt like they were suffocating him. Even in these moments, the woman she loved seemed like a sweet curse.
“That thing, Erna.”
After much deliberation, Bjorn finally spoke. Erna, lost in thought for a moment, tilted her head slightly.
“Is that it?”
“The story of my divorce from Gladys that you wanted to hear.”
"Ah..."
"It was a secret between nations. A promise made in exchange for immense national benefit, one that was kept secret forever. It was a promise I chose, and therefore, one I was responsible for."
Looking directly at his wife's frozen face, Bjorn continued speaking calmly.
The day he decided to tell her everything, she miscarried. For a while, there was no time for such a conversation, and once the uproar had subsided, the situation became ambiguous. He decided there was no need to bring up the now-meaningless topic and reopen the wounds, so he kept it quiet. But looking back, that may have been nothing more than a cowardly evasion.
“If you tell me... do you think that confidentiality won’t be maintained?”
Erna slowly opened her eyes and asked in a trembling voice.
“It wasn’t a question of trust, Erna.”
“Or what?”
"The secret pact with Lars was made under the premise that only my father, mother, and Leonid would know about it in Letzen. Therefore, I had a duty to uphold that principle. Even if it had been anyone other than you, it wouldn't have made any difference."
"...Yes."
Erna nodded in agreement.
Bjorn was right. Such was the nature of secrecy, and as the Prince of Letzen, before being a woman's husband, this man had a duty to serve the national interest. She dared not blame him for that.
She understands. It had to be that way. But...
“But Bjorn.”
An unexpected word came out impulsively.
“You were the one who saw firsthand how hard it was for me.”
Erna's wet voice began to tremble slightly.
“Our baby...”
The moment the words she had been holding back burst out, she unconsciously grabbed the hem of her skirt.
"If the poet's will had never been published, and our baby had been born while the matter remained secret, Bjorn, then that child, like me, would have lived in the shadow of Princess Gladys and her child."
“I guess so.”
Bjorn nodded calmly.
And yet you kept the secret from us till the end?
Erna couldn't bring herself to ask that question, which was on the tip of her tongue. She felt like she already knew the answer. She knew that hearing it would break her heart.
“Even if that were the case, Erna, I would have compensated you and my child sufficiently in some other way.”
Compensation.
While she was quietly whispering those words, a carriage pulled into the lighted bridge.
Erna pressed her hot eyes tightly against her hands, folding them neatly on her knees. She even steadied her ragged breathing.
Bjorn was a faithful husband.
Although it wasn't what Erna had envisioned, it was certainly true. He had a purpose for his wife, and within that framework, he treated her faithfully. So, he must have been a father to his child as well. There was no doubt about that.
“Erna, anyway, everything is resolved now.”
Bjorn's large hand cupped her cheek. Erna nodded slightly, agreeing with the undeniable truth.
The myth of Gladys was shattered. No one now wanted her to become Princess Letzen again. People now call Erna the heroine. A wife who stood by her husband with unwavering love. A true noblewoman, worthy of being a Queen.
Her father, too, could no longer torment Erna. His miserable downfall and banishment to the outskirts were a punishment for his past misdeeds. Bjorn had done just that.
The fairytale heroine, having endured all trials and tribulations and been saved by a beautiful Prince, was now ready to find happiness. It was the perfect ending Erna had longed for.
So she couldn't say anything.
Every time she saw the royal children playing in the summer palace, she feared that her child, destined to live in this world, would be hated and left behind like her. Even if she confessed that she truly hated herself for not being a worthy Princess like Princess Gladys, nothing would change.
All such an incompetent mother could do was pray that her child would resemble her father. She hoped no one would find a trace of her in him. She couldn't pass on to her child the sadness of wanting to dye her hair in sunlight.
She can't even begin to imagine how desperately she prayed every night that he wouldn't become a misplaced bead, that his life would shine only with the golden light of his father. But now that he's gone, it's all meaningless.
Next. Next.
Yes. As people say, it was time to turn the page. Forget the misery and pain that had created, and move toward the happiness that had miraculously arrived.
That was it. It was that easy.
“If you need more explanation, feel free to ask...”
"No."
Erna cut him off in a firm tone.
"I already know all this because I read that book. It must have been difficult for you, too, so there's no need to explain it again."
I strained my eyes to keep from crying. I even tried to raise the corners of my lips to smile. But nothing worked as I wanted.
"Just as you said, everything's resolved now, and I'm fine. Really. So, Bjorn, please..."
Erna pleaded with a face like a clown, unable to cry or laugh. Her heart was even more desperate than that night, when she had clung to him, desperate to hear even a lie.
“Don’t do that.”
Her vision was blurred, but thankfully, no tears flowed. Erna was able to force a little more force into her lips.
As the carriage crossed the bridge of lights, the Prince came and kissed her.
After a moment of hesitation, Erna obediently closed her eyes and opened her lips.
It wasn't that difficult.
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