136. Sweet Almond
Pavel Lore is a son of a bitch.
Bjorn could say it without a moment's hesitation. He felt like no other words could possibly describe that damned painter.
The two were conversing in front of a spinning carousel. Though they were quite a distance away, Bjorn immediately recognized the unlucky redhead of the man standing opposite Erna. Fortunately, the gatekeeper of Hell was by Erna's side, but that didn't mean things could go smoothly.
“Excuse me, sir?”
It was the owner of a street stall selling almonds who woke Bjorn, who was looking at the place where they had disappeared.
After dealing with a few urgent telegrams, he stumbled upon this stall on his way to find Erna. The scent of honey and cinnamon drifted in with the steam, and he turned his head. He saw the very same snack Erna had enjoyed on that spring day during the May Day celebrations in Burford.
Bjorn bought the almonds without hesitation. He knew this was hardly enough to win her back, but he hoped it might at least give him a chance to catch her eye. Pavel Lore, though? The fact that he showed up in his hometown at a time like this proved he was a total bastard.
Having paid his price, Bjorn strode across the aisles of the open-air market with a wide stride. He stuffed the almonds in a cone-shaped paper bag carelessly deep into his coat pocket.
Erna would definitely hate it.
As the carousel drew near, Bjorn paused for a moment to catch his breath. He'd probably call that bastard her friend again and take that painter's side. But Pavel Lore laughed, and Bjorn strode forward, no longer hesitating.
Erna was still his wife.
That alone was enough to make Bjorn unstoppable.
“It’s been a while, Mr. Lore.”
Bjorn greeted him calmly, unlike someone who had come by surprise.
Pavel and Erna, who were standing across from each other, chatting, simultaneously turned their gazes to the Prince. Lisa, who had been watching the children on the carousel, turned around in shock. However, Bjorn, the one who had caused the chaos, stood leisurely beside Erna, as if exercising his rightful claim.
"It's okay."
The Prince gave a short order to Pavel, who was trying to greet him politely.
“It’s better not to create anything that will make you uncomfortable.”
Bjorn gestured toward the crowd, glancing towards them. His smiling face was elegant and relaxed. He seemed completely different from the man who had run wild like a madman that summer day.
Pavel, who understood the intention, greeted the Prince with a light nod and then faced him.
"Burford is also my hometown, Your Highness. I visited last weekend and plan to return to Schwerin in two weeks. I ran into Her Highness by chance. It had been a while since we last saw each other, so we were exchanging greetings."
Pavel hurried to explain. It was ridiculous that he had to say such things, but he didn't want to cause unnecessary misunderstandings and put Erna in another predicament.
"Yes."
Bjorn nodded and wrapped his arms around his wife's waist.
“My wife is recuperating at Baden mansion. I’m staying with her.”
Erna flinched in surprise, but the Prince paid no attention. Pavel frowned involuntarily at the overbearing attitude of his wife, who was uncomfortably being held by him.
“Mr. Lore.”
The Prince's gaze, which had been examining his wife, turned back to Pavel.
“Let’s have a drink.”
The Prince, who had been staring blankly at him, said something completely unexpected.
"Ah. You said you don't drink alcohol. Then Mr. Lore, choose according to your taste."
“With all due respect, Your Highness, I don’t quite understand what you are saying.”
The wrinkle between Pavel's eyebrows deepened. Bjorn's eyes, silently watching him, remained silent. The laughter of children riding the carousel and the booming cries of street vendors attracting customers filled the profound silence between them.
“Don’t do this.”
Erna, who was at a loss as to what to do, began to grab his arm and pull him.
“Just go back now. Please...”
“I’m asking Mr. Lore to talk to me now.”
Bjorn cut Erna off in a calm tone.
“It won’t be like last time. I promise.”
"Yes?"
“I’m talking about the fight I had at the Heine family outing.”
The Prince spoke of the humiliating incident without hesitation. Even at this moment, his face remained impassive, which made Pavel even more astonished.
"I'd like to apologize for what happened that day. Would that be enough reason to have a drink with me?"
“Please speak.”
Pavel Lore's gruff voice came across the worn table.
Bjorn set down his half-empty whiskey glass and looked up. The painter, who was no stranger to bad luck, was alone, proudly holding his teacup, even in a tavern bustling with drunken revellers in broad daylight.
“Do you like rowing?”
Pavel's eyes widened at the question posed by Bjorn, who was leaning back in his chair.
“What do you mean?”
“If that’s the case, then I think you're someone I’d like to add to my team.”
“...I do enjoy watching games.”
Pavel Lore, who had been seriously mulling over the lame joke, answered.
“Is this a sufficient answer?”
He sat up straight and gave off an even more military-like impression.
No matter how you looked at it, it was definitely Leonid Dneister. He was utterly boring, but upright and honest, the kind of person who would probably be a good match for a woman like Erna.
Bjorn readily acknowledged the fact and emptied his glass. The village tavern owner, who had been keeping an eye on the stranger, approached him quietly and refilled his empty glass.
He glanced at him curiously, but left without saying much. The reactions of the town's drunks, already drunk or about to be drunk, were no different.
“Erna, was this your first love?”
Bjorn, his lips moistened with the newly poured whiskey, asked a casual question.
“Are you doubting the relationship between yus again?”
“No. My rain isn’t that kind of woman.”
“But why on earth...”
Pavel swallowed dryly, unconsciously. He knew the right answer, but he didn't think he could fool the Prince with such a shallow lie.
“To be honest, I was very shaken at that time.”
Pavel opened his tightly shut eyes and confessed his true feelings, which he had kept hidden even from himself.
"If the torrential rain hadn't come. If I hadn't been so late. If things hadn't gone so wrong. Then maybe I would have lusted after her. No. I would have. That was certainly how I felt back then. But I missed my chance, and Erna became the Prince's wife. That's how it ended. I swear I've never thought of Erna that way since."
His voice was trembling, and his breathing was ragged, but Pavel didn't back down.
Bjorn stared at that determined face with narrowed eyes. Memories of that night, when the rain poured down, rose to the surface, a rage that had struck him with such sincerity and indiscretion.
Whether it was a trophy or a shield, she insisted it was the best option for Erna, but in truth, she already knew. Perhaps Erna's best option wasn't a Prince, but a painter at the academy. Of course, the stigma of being the daughter of a noble family who ran away with a painter in the middle of the night would have followed her like a label, but Erna was a woman who could easily turn her back on that world and be happy.
Even though he knew, he turned away. He drew the curtains without hesitation. It didn't matter what was best for Erna. The pros and cons of that choice were equally important.
What moved Bjorn in that moment was nothing but desire. A simple yet fierce desire to grasp the beautiful trophy, to not let it be taken from him.
Pavel Lore was a reminder of that night he wanted to forget.
Once he accepted the truth he been trying so hard to deny, the tangled web of questions dissolved with a palpable ease. He finally understood why Erna, knowing she would never cheat, had gone berserk at the mere sight of Pavel Lore.
"I know."
Bjorn nodded, chuckling.
“I knew it, but I did it anyway.”
"Yes?"
“Even though everyone knows, you’re really unlucky.”
After finishing the rest of his drink, Bjorn stood up.
“I'm sorry about that day, Mr. Lore. I apologize for my rudeness.”
Bjorn looked down at Pavel, who had a bewildered expression, and apologized. The slight bowing of his head was overly polite, making him seem even more arrogant.
“I'd like to say that won't happen anymore, but I'm not sure. It's hard to be sure.”
Bjorn placed the money for his drinks on the end of the table and glanced at the pocket watch he had pulled from his pocket. The time he had promised Erna was drawing near.
"So, I'd appreciate it if you could continue to be careful. Or just get married. So I don't get in your way."
“Is it right to apologize now?”
Pavel let out a blank laugh, as if he couldn't believe it.
Bjorn, who had been watching him silently, gave a brief bow and turned away. The sound of the bell on the door reverberated through the noisy tavern.
Even though her breath was pounding, Erna didn't stop, just kept walking. Lisa's footsteps, following behind her, also became more hectic.
Pavel readily accepted Bjorn's absurd proposal. Erna's attempts to dissuade him were futile.
After saying he would be there in 30 minutes, Bjorn left for the village tavern with Pavel. With no other options, Erna decided to wait patiently, but as the appointed time drew near, Erna's anxiety grew. Finally, unable to bear it any longer, she leaped from the carriage.
Even if Pavel agreed, it wasn't permission.
As the tavern sign began to appear, Erna's pace quickened. Just thinking about what Bjorn might have done there made her vision dizzy.
Did he hit Pavel again?
A burning rage welled up in her as she remembered Bjorn, the man who had slammed his fist into Pavel without warning. It was then that Bjorn appeared from behind the wide-open tavern door.
Erna froze in place, startled. Their eyes met, and Bjorn smiled faintly. He didn't look like someone who had been in a rough fight.
While Erna was flustered, unsure of what to do, Bjorn approached her. He slowly pulled something out of his coat pocket and handed it to her.
Erna's eyes widened as she accepted it in a flustered manner. Even without opening it, she knew what was inside the paper bag. It was a sweet almond, a memory of those foolish days, when she had cherished it simply because Bjorn had bought it for her.
"What is it?"
“You ask even though you know.”
“Why are you giving me this?”
Even when facing Erna, who asked coldly, Bjorn smiled calmly.
“You’re just talking nonsense.”
The music from the spinning carousel was accompanied by some amazing words that I couldn't believe I was hearing.
Pavel Lore is a son of a bitch.
Bjorn could say it without a moment's hesitation. He felt like no other words could possibly describe that damned painter.
The two were conversing in front of a spinning carousel. Though they were quite a distance away, Bjorn immediately recognized the unlucky redhead of the man standing opposite Erna. Fortunately, the gatekeeper of Hell was by Erna's side, but that didn't mean things could go smoothly.
“Excuse me, sir?”
It was the owner of a street stall selling almonds who woke Bjorn, who was looking at the place where they had disappeared.
After dealing with a few urgent telegrams, he stumbled upon this stall on his way to find Erna. The scent of honey and cinnamon drifted in with the steam, and he turned his head. He saw the very same snack Erna had enjoyed on that spring day during the May Day celebrations in Burford.
Bjorn bought the almonds without hesitation. He knew this was hardly enough to win her back, but he hoped it might at least give him a chance to catch her eye. Pavel Lore, though? The fact that he showed up in his hometown at a time like this proved he was a total bastard.
Having paid his price, Bjorn strode across the aisles of the open-air market with a wide stride. He stuffed the almonds in a cone-shaped paper bag carelessly deep into his coat pocket.
Erna would definitely hate it.
As the carousel drew near, Bjorn paused for a moment to catch his breath. He'd probably call that bastard her friend again and take that painter's side. But Pavel Lore laughed, and Bjorn strode forward, no longer hesitating.
Erna was still his wife.
That alone was enough to make Bjorn unstoppable.
***
“It’s been a while, Mr. Lore.”
Bjorn greeted him calmly, unlike someone who had come by surprise.
Pavel and Erna, who were standing across from each other, chatting, simultaneously turned their gazes to the Prince. Lisa, who had been watching the children on the carousel, turned around in shock. However, Bjorn, the one who had caused the chaos, stood leisurely beside Erna, as if exercising his rightful claim.
"It's okay."
The Prince gave a short order to Pavel, who was trying to greet him politely.
“It’s better not to create anything that will make you uncomfortable.”
Bjorn gestured toward the crowd, glancing towards them. His smiling face was elegant and relaxed. He seemed completely different from the man who had run wild like a madman that summer day.
Pavel, who understood the intention, greeted the Prince with a light nod and then faced him.
"Burford is also my hometown, Your Highness. I visited last weekend and plan to return to Schwerin in two weeks. I ran into Her Highness by chance. It had been a while since we last saw each other, so we were exchanging greetings."
Pavel hurried to explain. It was ridiculous that he had to say such things, but he didn't want to cause unnecessary misunderstandings and put Erna in another predicament.
"Yes."
Bjorn nodded and wrapped his arms around his wife's waist.
“My wife is recuperating at Baden mansion. I’m staying with her.”
Erna flinched in surprise, but the Prince paid no attention. Pavel frowned involuntarily at the overbearing attitude of his wife, who was uncomfortably being held by him.
“Mr. Lore.”
The Prince's gaze, which had been examining his wife, turned back to Pavel.
“Let’s have a drink.”
The Prince, who had been staring blankly at him, said something completely unexpected.
"Ah. You said you don't drink alcohol. Then Mr. Lore, choose according to your taste."
“With all due respect, Your Highness, I don’t quite understand what you are saying.”
The wrinkle between Pavel's eyebrows deepened. Bjorn's eyes, silently watching him, remained silent. The laughter of children riding the carousel and the booming cries of street vendors attracting customers filled the profound silence between them.
“Don’t do this.”
Erna, who was at a loss as to what to do, began to grab his arm and pull him.
“Just go back now. Please...”
“I’m asking Mr. Lore to talk to me now.”
Bjorn cut Erna off in a calm tone.
“It won’t be like last time. I promise.”
"Yes?"
“I’m talking about the fight I had at the Heine family outing.”
The Prince spoke of the humiliating incident without hesitation. Even at this moment, his face remained impassive, which made Pavel even more astonished.
"I'd like to apologize for what happened that day. Would that be enough reason to have a drink with me?"
***
“Please speak.”
Pavel Lore's gruff voice came across the worn table.
Bjorn set down his half-empty whiskey glass and looked up. The painter, who was no stranger to bad luck, was alone, proudly holding his teacup, even in a tavern bustling with drunken revellers in broad daylight.
“Do you like rowing?”
Pavel's eyes widened at the question posed by Bjorn, who was leaning back in his chair.
“What do you mean?”
“If that’s the case, then I think you're someone I’d like to add to my team.”
“...I do enjoy watching games.”
Pavel Lore, who had been seriously mulling over the lame joke, answered.
“Is this a sufficient answer?”
He sat up straight and gave off an even more military-like impression.
No matter how you looked at it, it was definitely Leonid Dneister. He was utterly boring, but upright and honest, the kind of person who would probably be a good match for a woman like Erna.
Bjorn readily acknowledged the fact and emptied his glass. The village tavern owner, who had been keeping an eye on the stranger, approached him quietly and refilled his empty glass.
He glanced at him curiously, but left without saying much. The reactions of the town's drunks, already drunk or about to be drunk, were no different.
“Erna, was this your first love?”
Bjorn, his lips moistened with the newly poured whiskey, asked a casual question.
“Are you doubting the relationship between yus again?”
“No. My rain isn’t that kind of woman.”
“But why on earth...”
"You loved her, didn't you? Not Erna, but you loved her."
Bjorn's smiling lips glowed red.
Pavel stared at the Prince, his face stiff. His calm gaze, bearing no rebuke or suspicion, seemed to suffocate him.
“Even so, isn’t that meaningless now?”
Pavel answered, trying desperately not to raise his voice.
"Yes. I liked her. My first love, yes. She was pretty and kind. But I swear there was never a single thing I had to hide from the Prince. It was my own puppy love, and even that, after leaving home, was closer to an older brother's wish for his little sister's happiness."
“Is there a brother who runs away with his sister in the middle of the night?”
“That thing...”
Pavel stared at the Prince, his face stiff. His calm gaze, bearing no rebuke or suspicion, seemed to suffocate him.
“Even so, isn’t that meaningless now?”
Pavel answered, trying desperately not to raise his voice.
"Yes. I liked her. My first love, yes. She was pretty and kind. But I swear there was never a single thing I had to hide from the Prince. It was my own puppy love, and even that, after leaving home, was closer to an older brother's wish for his little sister's happiness."
“Is there a brother who runs away with his sister in the middle of the night?”
“That thing...”
Pavel swallowed dryly, unconsciously. He knew the right answer, but he didn't think he could fool the Prince with such a shallow lie.
“To be honest, I was very shaken at that time.”
Pavel opened his tightly shut eyes and confessed his true feelings, which he had kept hidden even from himself.
"If the torrential rain hadn't come. If I hadn't been so late. If things hadn't gone so wrong. Then maybe I would have lusted after her. No. I would have. That was certainly how I felt back then. But I missed my chance, and Erna became the Prince's wife. That's how it ended. I swear I've never thought of Erna that way since."
His voice was trembling, and his breathing was ragged, but Pavel didn't back down.
Bjorn stared at that determined face with narrowed eyes. Memories of that night, when the rain poured down, rose to the surface, a rage that had struck him with such sincerity and indiscretion.
Whether it was a trophy or a shield, she insisted it was the best option for Erna, but in truth, she already knew. Perhaps Erna's best option wasn't a Prince, but a painter at the academy. Of course, the stigma of being the daughter of a noble family who ran away with a painter in the middle of the night would have followed her like a label, but Erna was a woman who could easily turn her back on that world and be happy.
Even though he knew, he turned away. He drew the curtains without hesitation. It didn't matter what was best for Erna. The pros and cons of that choice were equally important.
What moved Bjorn in that moment was nothing but desire. A simple yet fierce desire to grasp the beautiful trophy, to not let it be taken from him.
Pavel Lore was a reminder of that night he wanted to forget.
Once he accepted the truth he been trying so hard to deny, the tangled web of questions dissolved with a palpable ease. He finally understood why Erna, knowing she would never cheat, had gone berserk at the mere sight of Pavel Lore.
"I know."
Bjorn nodded, chuckling.
“I knew it, but I did it anyway.”
"Yes?"
“Even though everyone knows, you’re really unlucky.”
After finishing the rest of his drink, Bjorn stood up.
“I'm sorry about that day, Mr. Lore. I apologize for my rudeness.”
Bjorn looked down at Pavel, who had a bewildered expression, and apologized. The slight bowing of his head was overly polite, making him seem even more arrogant.
“I'd like to say that won't happen anymore, but I'm not sure. It's hard to be sure.”
Bjorn placed the money for his drinks on the end of the table and glanced at the pocket watch he had pulled from his pocket. The time he had promised Erna was drawing near.
"So, I'd appreciate it if you could continue to be careful. Or just get married. So I don't get in your way."
“Is it right to apologize now?”
Pavel let out a blank laugh, as if he couldn't believe it.
Bjorn, who had been watching him silently, gave a brief bow and turned away. The sound of the bell on the door reverberated through the noisy tavern.
***
Even though her breath was pounding, Erna didn't stop, just kept walking. Lisa's footsteps, following behind her, also became more hectic.
Pavel readily accepted Bjorn's absurd proposal. Erna's attempts to dissuade him were futile.
After saying he would be there in 30 minutes, Bjorn left for the village tavern with Pavel. With no other options, Erna decided to wait patiently, but as the appointed time drew near, Erna's anxiety grew. Finally, unable to bear it any longer, she leaped from the carriage.
Even if Pavel agreed, it wasn't permission.
As the tavern sign began to appear, Erna's pace quickened. Just thinking about what Bjorn might have done there made her vision dizzy.
Did he hit Pavel again?
A burning rage welled up in her as she remembered Bjorn, the man who had slammed his fist into Pavel without warning. It was then that Bjorn appeared from behind the wide-open tavern door.
Erna froze in place, startled. Their eyes met, and Bjorn smiled faintly. He didn't look like someone who had been in a rough fight.
While Erna was flustered, unsure of what to do, Bjorn approached her. He slowly pulled something out of his coat pocket and handed it to her.
Erna's eyes widened as she accepted it in a flustered manner. Even without opening it, she knew what was inside the paper bag. It was a sweet almond, a memory of those foolish days, when she had cherished it simply because Bjorn had bought it for her.
"What is it?"
“You ask even though you know.”
“Why are you giving me this?”
Even when facing Erna, who asked coldly, Bjorn smiled calmly.
“You’re just talking nonsense.”
The music from the spinning carousel was accompanied by some amazing words that I couldn't believe I was hearing.
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