135. Failed arithmetic
The country day, which started too early, was unbearably long and boring.
Bjorn, who had been absentmindedly flipping through the bookshelf, glanced at the clock, his eyes filled with weariness and irritation. It was barely noon. Normally, he wouldn't have even woken up yet.
Bjorn threw down his book and rose from bed. He lit a cigar and opened the window, allowing a chilly breeze to blow in. The fireplace blazed like hell, the brazier, the hot water bottles placed on the bed and chairs. Only when the warmth created by the overflowing passion of the Baden family's servants dimmed did he finally breathe.
Bjorn sat on the windowsill, smoking a cigar leisurely. Memories of last spring, when he had stayed here with Erna, came flooding back, one by one, over the bleak landscape of the remote countryside.
From waking to falling asleep again, he spent every moment with her. Erna, returning home, shone brighter than ever, and Bjorn willingly enjoyed the beautiful flowers. It was a season when the world was awash in flowers, but Bjorn's only memory was of Erna and the single flower she had bloomed.
Love. He thought about the name of the thing Erna wanted, but couldn't have.
The affection Bjorn knew was more like a kind of charity. He chose and gave. And he enjoyed the treats he received in return. This was true for anyone, not just Erna.
Give what you have to give. Take what you have to take.
His life was governed by such a clear calculation. That's why he was able to divorce Gladys in that way.
The core is revealed when you strip away the clutter of unnecessary emotions and ideas. Bjorn had to judge, decide, and then take responsibility for it. If the sum total of the gains outweighed the losses, that meant victory.
Bjorn Deneister was born and raised as such a winner. And he has been winning. Every moment of his life has been like that. Until Erna, an opponent whose calculations defied him, entered his life.
He chose Erna. And he gave.
Up to that point, everything was according to the calculations Bjorn knew. The problem was the price.
Erna poured out love beyond his understanding.
Her love was like fireworks that illuminated a summer festival night. It was like snowflakes fluttering wildly, painting the world white, and it was also like beautiful spring flowers blooming profusely, forming waves.
He received such love. It was a marriage that could be called a clear victory, as he received more than he gave. So he happily enjoyed it, and he did. But as those days continued, Bjorn's calculations began to fade.
He wasn't sure that what he had given Erna was worth the love she deserved. He wanted to keep her forever unaware of the truth behind this marriage. He wanted to be Erna's savior, to live in that love forever.
That must have been why. He tried so hard to give more, more. It was for the sole reason that he didn't want to lose Erna's love. Any sense of cool-headed calculation had long since vanished. For him, it was like the very foundation of his life was crumbling.
He didn't want to admit it, so he pretended. The more he did, the more anxious he became, and the more his obsession with that love grew. He believed he could grasp it. It was a pathetic thought.
Bjorn laughed, brushing away the long ash. This was truly the most crippled person in Letzen.
As he took another deep drag of cigar smoke, the Baden family's carriage stopped in front of the entrance. The gatekeeper of Hell scurried out, chattering away, and the old coachman nodded slowly. It seemed Erna was about to go out.
Bjorn, who had tossed his cigar into the ashtray without a second thought, closed the window and turned away. Habitually reaching for the bell, he soon remembered that this was Baden Street, a place where most matters had to be resolved on one's own.
'This is Baden mansion!'
On the first day, when Erna found out that he was staying in this house, she became furious and shouted.
"It'll be a far cry from last spring, when I brought the Schwerin Palace servants with me. The Prince will have to draw the curtains himself and dress himself. This isn't a place where a plethora of servants are on standby, ready to take care of anything at the sound of a bell."
Erna acted as if it were some great threat.
'I know.'
Looking at her blue eyes, which were even more beautiful when she got angry, Bjorn nodded coolly.
'I'm willing to endure that level of inconvenience for the sake of my love with my wife.'
Erna, who had been glaring at him as he slyly retorted, turned away without a word. The lush frills and lace that followed her angry footsteps made Bjorn smile. Erna, now Erna, was lovely. That was all that mattered for now.
Following Erna's warning, Bjorn found his own jacket and coat and donned them. All servants and carriages, except for one attendant, were sent back to Schwerin. This was a thoughtful gesture to ease the burden on the Baden family, who were in disarray. The first few days were awkwardly uncomfortable, but now they were manageable.
Bjorn stood in front of the mirror, adjusted his clothes, and left the room. His leisurely footsteps echoed down the sun-drenched corridors of Baden mansion.
The carriage driven by a white-haired coachman ran slowly along the country road.
Bjorn stared out the window with narrowed eyes. The landscape stretched on endlessly, withered trees, barren fields, and dried grass.
Bjorn, growing impatient, shifted his gaze to the seat next to him. The first thing he saw was Lisa Brill, the maid who stood guard by her master's side like a sentinel from hell.
Get out of the way.
Bjorn met Lisa's eyes and nodded in command. The maid tilted her head, seemingly confused, though she could not have been unaware of the meaning.
The irritability of the crawling carriage and the impudent maid surged to the top of his lungs, but Bjorn held it in. Considering the effort he'd put into getting on this carriage, there was no reason he couldn't endure this much.
The collapse of Freyr Bank. The resulting collapse of the Letzen economy. The ruined lives and tears of its people.
This was the excuse Bjorn gave to board this slow, broken carriage. It wasn't a complete lie, as it was true he had to stop by the telegraph office to take care of banking. Of course, it didn't have to be now.
Erna, who had been glaring at him as if she were going to listen to all his nonsense, announced that she would not go out. Just then, Baroness Baden appeared.
"Well, Erna. Just because you're riding in the same carriage doesn't mean you're going out with the Grand Duke. You're just going about our own business."
After understanding the situation, she quietly took Bjorn's side.
"If you truly have no attachment to the Grand Duke, I don't think you need to be so sensitive about something like this. Don't you think so?"
She put a lot of emphasis on the word 'foolishness'.
Erna, who had been looking at her grandmother with resentment, reluctantly climbed into the carriage. It would have been perfect if it weren't for the maid who sat like a wall in the middle seat, but this wasn't a bad start.
Bjorn skillfully studied Erna, who sat beyond the maid, desperately trying to conceal her master. As if unwilling to be noticed by the villagers, Erna had pulled her large bonnet down low, concealing her face. Her attire was also extremely modest. A few artificial flowers, unwilling to give up, swayed gently on her hat.
Schwerin Central Station, where the Grand Duke's procession took place.
The first time they'd met, as Erna had told him, suddenly flashed through the flower petals. It wasn't a detailed memory. It was simply that he walked there to pick up his mother, who had visited Schwerin to attend a charity party for the Royal Hospital. But the memory of a woman he glimpsed on the crowded platform that day remained surprisingly vivid.
Small stature. Unpolished clothes. And a hat adorned with flowers.
He remembered a woman whose eyes had caught his eye unconsciously. And then he married the woman in that memory, whom he didn't even know he remembered.
Bjorn let out a sigh mixed with a slightly dejected laugh. Erna shrugged her shoulders, but she didn't look at him.
Still, Bjorn looked at the pretty woman for a long time, deeply.
“Come here in an hour.”
Erna spoke coldly, pointing to the statue standing at the village entrance. It was the very meeting place Bjorn had pointed out last spring.
"Lisa and I have important business to attend to. The Prince will be there too, so let's meet here after we've finished our respective tasks."
“Are you taking revenge?”
Bjorn smiled, seemingly unhurt. His consistently relaxed demeanor only infuriated Erna.
“I don’t quite understand what you’re talking about.”
With those cold words, Erna turned away. Fortunately, Bjorn didn't commit the shameful act of chasing after the woman who had rejected him in front of the villagers.
Erna and Lisa, who often walked across the square, stopped by a general store to deliver some artificial flowers. They brought more than the order had been received, but Mr. Ale readily accepted them. Thanks to this, the two ended up with more money than they had expected.
The two excitedly bought plenty of ingredients to make the newly ordered harmony. They also bought a box of chocolate and tea each. After a quick stroll around the shopping district, Erna's mood lifted significantly.
"Now, let's go check out the market! I'll buy Your Highness a gift too."
Lisa, with a squeak of excitement, pointed to the open-air market in the town square. It was the very spot where the May Day running race had been held.
After a moment's hesitation, Erna nodded readily. She didn't want to be ensnared by memories that had now become meaningless. If she had no regrets, she should have.
It won't last long anyway.
There was no way the noble Prince could endure such mistreatment for much longer. He'd eventually be the one to say he wanted a divorce. So, it seemed like a good thing. If he just endured a little longer, the divorce would be much easier and more transparent than he'd expected.
“Oh, Your Highness!”
Lisa, who was mumbling about the things she wanted to buy, suddenly stopped walking.
“Look over there. Over there!”
Lisa, her eyes wide, pointed to the carousel in the center of the open-air market.
Erna, who had turned her gaze there in a daze, soon realized the reason for Lisa's surprise. A very tall, muscular, red-haired man was standing there. As the man of about the same age as hers with whom she had been conversing left, he turned toward Erna, who had stopped.
“Pavel.”
Almost simultaneously, Erna muttered the name absentmindedly, and his green eyes spotted her.
The country day, which started too early, was unbearably long and boring.
Bjorn, who had been absentmindedly flipping through the bookshelf, glanced at the clock, his eyes filled with weariness and irritation. It was barely noon. Normally, he wouldn't have even woken up yet.
Bjorn threw down his book and rose from bed. He lit a cigar and opened the window, allowing a chilly breeze to blow in. The fireplace blazed like hell, the brazier, the hot water bottles placed on the bed and chairs. Only when the warmth created by the overflowing passion of the Baden family's servants dimmed did he finally breathe.
Bjorn sat on the windowsill, smoking a cigar leisurely. Memories of last spring, when he had stayed here with Erna, came flooding back, one by one, over the bleak landscape of the remote countryside.
From waking to falling asleep again, he spent every moment with her. Erna, returning home, shone brighter than ever, and Bjorn willingly enjoyed the beautiful flowers. It was a season when the world was awash in flowers, but Bjorn's only memory was of Erna and the single flower she had bloomed.
Love. He thought about the name of the thing Erna wanted, but couldn't have.
The affection Bjorn knew was more like a kind of charity. He chose and gave. And he enjoyed the treats he received in return. This was true for anyone, not just Erna.
Give what you have to give. Take what you have to take.
His life was governed by such a clear calculation. That's why he was able to divorce Gladys in that way.
The core is revealed when you strip away the clutter of unnecessary emotions and ideas. Bjorn had to judge, decide, and then take responsibility for it. If the sum total of the gains outweighed the losses, that meant victory.
Bjorn Deneister was born and raised as such a winner. And he has been winning. Every moment of his life has been like that. Until Erna, an opponent whose calculations defied him, entered his life.
He chose Erna. And he gave.
Up to that point, everything was according to the calculations Bjorn knew. The problem was the price.
Erna poured out love beyond his understanding.
Her love was like fireworks that illuminated a summer festival night. It was like snowflakes fluttering wildly, painting the world white, and it was also like beautiful spring flowers blooming profusely, forming waves.
He received such love. It was a marriage that could be called a clear victory, as he received more than he gave. So he happily enjoyed it, and he did. But as those days continued, Bjorn's calculations began to fade.
He wasn't sure that what he had given Erna was worth the love she deserved. He wanted to keep her forever unaware of the truth behind this marriage. He wanted to be Erna's savior, to live in that love forever.
That must have been why. He tried so hard to give more, more. It was for the sole reason that he didn't want to lose Erna's love. Any sense of cool-headed calculation had long since vanished. For him, it was like the very foundation of his life was crumbling.
He didn't want to admit it, so he pretended. The more he did, the more anxious he became, and the more his obsession with that love grew. He believed he could grasp it. It was a pathetic thought.
Bjorn laughed, brushing away the long ash. This was truly the most crippled person in Letzen.
As he took another deep drag of cigar smoke, the Baden family's carriage stopped in front of the entrance. The gatekeeper of Hell scurried out, chattering away, and the old coachman nodded slowly. It seemed Erna was about to go out.
Bjorn, who had tossed his cigar into the ashtray without a second thought, closed the window and turned away. Habitually reaching for the bell, he soon remembered that this was Baden Street, a place where most matters had to be resolved on one's own.
'This is Baden mansion!'
On the first day, when Erna found out that he was staying in this house, she became furious and shouted.
"It'll be a far cry from last spring, when I brought the Schwerin Palace servants with me. The Prince will have to draw the curtains himself and dress himself. This isn't a place where a plethora of servants are on standby, ready to take care of anything at the sound of a bell."
Erna acted as if it were some great threat.
'I know.'
Looking at her blue eyes, which were even more beautiful when she got angry, Bjorn nodded coolly.
'I'm willing to endure that level of inconvenience for the sake of my love with my wife.'
Erna, who had been glaring at him as he slyly retorted, turned away without a word. The lush frills and lace that followed her angry footsteps made Bjorn smile. Erna, now Erna, was lovely. That was all that mattered for now.
Following Erna's warning, Bjorn found his own jacket and coat and donned them. All servants and carriages, except for one attendant, were sent back to Schwerin. This was a thoughtful gesture to ease the burden on the Baden family, who were in disarray. The first few days were awkwardly uncomfortable, but now they were manageable.
Bjorn stood in front of the mirror, adjusted his clothes, and left the room. His leisurely footsteps echoed down the sun-drenched corridors of Baden mansion.
***
The carriage driven by a white-haired coachman ran slowly along the country road.
Bjorn stared out the window with narrowed eyes. The landscape stretched on endlessly, withered trees, barren fields, and dried grass.
Bjorn, growing impatient, shifted his gaze to the seat next to him. The first thing he saw was Lisa Brill, the maid who stood guard by her master's side like a sentinel from hell.
Get out of the way.
Bjorn met Lisa's eyes and nodded in command. The maid tilted her head, seemingly confused, though she could not have been unaware of the meaning.
The irritability of the crawling carriage and the impudent maid surged to the top of his lungs, but Bjorn held it in. Considering the effort he'd put into getting on this carriage, there was no reason he couldn't endure this much.
The collapse of Freyr Bank. The resulting collapse of the Letzen economy. The ruined lives and tears of its people.
This was the excuse Bjorn gave to board this slow, broken carriage. It wasn't a complete lie, as it was true he had to stop by the telegraph office to take care of banking. Of course, it didn't have to be now.
Erna, who had been glaring at him as if she were going to listen to all his nonsense, announced that she would not go out. Just then, Baroness Baden appeared.
"Well, Erna. Just because you're riding in the same carriage doesn't mean you're going out with the Grand Duke. You're just going about our own business."
After understanding the situation, she quietly took Bjorn's side.
"If you truly have no attachment to the Grand Duke, I don't think you need to be so sensitive about something like this. Don't you think so?"
She put a lot of emphasis on the word 'foolishness'.
Erna, who had been looking at her grandmother with resentment, reluctantly climbed into the carriage. It would have been perfect if it weren't for the maid who sat like a wall in the middle seat, but this wasn't a bad start.
Bjorn skillfully studied Erna, who sat beyond the maid, desperately trying to conceal her master. As if unwilling to be noticed by the villagers, Erna had pulled her large bonnet down low, concealing her face. Her attire was also extremely modest. A few artificial flowers, unwilling to give up, swayed gently on her hat.
Schwerin Central Station, where the Grand Duke's procession took place.
The first time they'd met, as Erna had told him, suddenly flashed through the flower petals. It wasn't a detailed memory. It was simply that he walked there to pick up his mother, who had visited Schwerin to attend a charity party for the Royal Hospital. But the memory of a woman he glimpsed on the crowded platform that day remained surprisingly vivid.
Small stature. Unpolished clothes. And a hat adorned with flowers.
He remembered a woman whose eyes had caught his eye unconsciously. And then he married the woman in that memory, whom he didn't even know he remembered.
Bjorn let out a sigh mixed with a slightly dejected laugh. Erna shrugged her shoulders, but she didn't look at him.
Still, Bjorn looked at the pretty woman for a long time, deeply.
***
“Come here in an hour.”
Erna spoke coldly, pointing to the statue standing at the village entrance. It was the very meeting place Bjorn had pointed out last spring.
"Lisa and I have important business to attend to. The Prince will be there too, so let's meet here after we've finished our respective tasks."
“Are you taking revenge?”
Bjorn smiled, seemingly unhurt. His consistently relaxed demeanor only infuriated Erna.
“I don’t quite understand what you’re talking about.”
With those cold words, Erna turned away. Fortunately, Bjorn didn't commit the shameful act of chasing after the woman who had rejected him in front of the villagers.
Erna and Lisa, who often walked across the square, stopped by a general store to deliver some artificial flowers. They brought more than the order had been received, but Mr. Ale readily accepted them. Thanks to this, the two ended up with more money than they had expected.
The two excitedly bought plenty of ingredients to make the newly ordered harmony. They also bought a box of chocolate and tea each. After a quick stroll around the shopping district, Erna's mood lifted significantly.
"Now, let's go check out the market! I'll buy Your Highness a gift too."
Lisa, with a squeak of excitement, pointed to the open-air market in the town square. It was the very spot where the May Day running race had been held.
After a moment's hesitation, Erna nodded readily. She didn't want to be ensnared by memories that had now become meaningless. If she had no regrets, she should have.
It won't last long anyway.
There was no way the noble Prince could endure such mistreatment for much longer. He'd eventually be the one to say he wanted a divorce. So, it seemed like a good thing. If he just endured a little longer, the divorce would be much easier and more transparent than he'd expected.
“Oh, Your Highness!”
Lisa, who was mumbling about the things she wanted to buy, suddenly stopped walking.
“Look over there. Over there!”
Lisa, her eyes wide, pointed to the carousel in the center of the open-air market.
Erna, who had turned her gaze there in a daze, soon realized the reason for Lisa's surprise. A very tall, muscular, red-haired man was standing there. As the man of about the same age as hers with whom she had been conversing left, he turned toward Erna, who had stopped.
“Pavel.”
Almost simultaneously, Erna muttered the name absentmindedly, and his green eyes spotted her.
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