138. 10 minutes
“How about Ella? Or Sylvia?”
Lisa's diligent recitation of names created a commotion in the stable.
“What about Christa? Does it feel too classy?”
Erna, too, took the naming task seriously. Even after the calf, having finished its hay meal, returned to its mother, the two people standing before it continued their serious discussion for a long time.
Ralph Royce watched the scene, leaning against the stable door. A pleased smile, unknowingly, brightened his wrinkled face.
It was purely Erna's fault for placing the calf with the Badens. She was so attached to the young animal that he couldn't even bring himself to mention that he planned to sell it once it grew a little older. Fortunately, the Baroness seemed to agree, and last night, the newborn calf was accepted as a new member of the Badens. Seeing how happy she was, it was clear he had made the right decision.
“Mr. Royce, is Lisa here?”
Ralph Royce turned his head in surprise at the words of the maid who came running in, out of breath.
“Ah! There it is.”
Before he could answer, the maid approached Lisa, who was standing in front of the calf pen. It was then that the Prince suddenly appeared.
“I came to pick up the horse.”
Facing the Baden family's coachman, who was shaking his head in shock, Bjorn lowered his voice and explained his business.
“Then I, I will hurry...”
“No, it’s okay.”
Bjorn smiled at the flustered coachman and stepped lightly across the stable threshold. The gatekeeper of Hell, who had been guarding Erna, was being led in by a maid sent by the Baroness.
Shhhh.
Bjorn, who met Lisa's eyes in shock, brought a finger to his lips to signal her attention. Erna was still completely absorbed in the calf.
“Leave quietly, Lisa.”
Bjorn gave a soft warning to Lisa, who opened her lips as if to call Erna.
“Before I cut you off.”
The words added in a whisper contained even deeper sincerity.
Lisa's expression was utterly resentful and sorrowful, but she couldn't bear it any longer and took a step forward. Even so, she didn't forget to cough, a tearful display of loyalty. Unfortunately, her master didn't have the presence of mind to understand, so it was all in vain.
After confirming that the stable door had closed, Bjorn slowly approached the cow pen, his pack on his back. Erna, muttering something and examining a calf, finally noticed his presence. It was intentional, but it strangely hurt her pride.
“Did you send Lisa away on purpose?”
Erna's question, as if hurled, was sharp. Bjorn smiled, one corner of his lips slightly raised, and he approached the fence.
“Your maid has been summoned to the Baroness.”
Bjorn responded indifferently and examined the calf. Lisa's letter must have been a lie, for the calf was wearing a colorful knitted garment. A closer look revealed a ribbon around its neck. There was no need to speculate about its taste.
“Really?”
Erna looked at him with a hint of indifference. Bjorn, taking his gaze away from the rustic calf, turned and leaned against the fence.
“I think the illusion is a bit more extreme than it looks?”
"Yes?"
“But what can I do? As you can see, I just came out to go horseback riding.”
Bjorn pointed to himself in his riding attire with a sly, lazy gesture.
“If it’s Your Highness’s will, I’d be willing to spend the two of you alone.”
"...No!"
Erna, who had been blankly staring at him, frowned and became serious later.
“Then, Your Highness, go horseback riding.”
“Erna.”
“I’m leaving now for Lisa... Ah!”
Erna, who had been hastily turning around, let out a scream of surprise at the hand that grabbed her arm. Bjorn, no longer looking relaxed, stood in her way.
“You always run away like this.”
Bjorn, who was looking down at Erna, who was gripped by instinctive fear, whispered as if sighing.
“Just give me 10 minutes.”
Bjorn let go of the arm he had been holding tightly, took the pocket watch out of his jacket pocket, and placed it in Erna's hand.
“If you don’t allow this, I feel like I’ll be in big trouble.”
“What misunderstanding?”
“The misconception that you still love me very much.”
Bjorn slowly opened his closed eyes and looked at Erna.
“It’s a misunderstanding that you keep running away because you’re afraid that your feelings will be revealed.”
Unlike his light-hearted, joking tone, his gaze towards Erna was deep and sharp.
Erna, who was looking back and forth between her eyes and the watch in her hand, let out a long sigh of resignation.
“10:25.”
Erna opened her watch and briefly reported the time she had checked.
“We’ll be leaving in exactly 35 minutes.”
With that announcement, Erna lowered her eyes. Bjorn chuckled and leaned against the fence again, arms crossed loosely.
“Were you having a conversation with a calf?”
It took Bjorn a minute before he asked his first question. His voice was low and soft, no longer playful.
“I was naming the calf with Lisa. We decided not to sell it and to raise it with its mother.”
Erna, no longer wanting to engage in a heated argument, answered obediently. Her gaze remained fixed on the watch in her hand.
“That’s a name. You’re quite sincere.”
“Don’t laugh. This is very important to me.”
“Erna.”
He sighed, calling her name as he turned his head, and saw a young calf suckling its mother's milk. It was white with light brown spots. Their resemblance was striking, and they looked incredibly affectionate.
He vaguely understood why the foolish Erna had been watching this scene. Seeing the mother doting on her identical calf and the calf following her, she must have been reminded of her own lost child. Perhaps that's why she developed such a special attachment to the young animal.
Bjorn couldn't continue speaking and slowly wiped his face.
He was suddenly furious at this woman, who had the gall to run away in the middle of the night and send divorce papers, yet still managed to act so innocently. It was a strange kind of anger, one that made him want to scream like a madman, but which also left him feeling a deep, cold chill.
“There are five minutes left.”
Erna checked the watch in her hand and told him how much time was left.
Bjorn turned his gaze from the calf in the ribboned garment to Erna. Just like that day, the thick scent of blood lingered in his nostrils.
Among the things Erna had thrown away before she woke up was something like this. A pair of ridiculously tiny knitted baby socks. Their vibrant colors were just like the candy Erna loved to eat. The ribbon on his ankle, smaller than a knuckle, was the same.
That day, Bjorn personally examined all the child's belongings that the servants had brought. He chuckled at the thought of how diligently she had collected them, even amidst the chaos of the series of events. They were all so small and simple, so unlike the child of the Grand Duke and the King's grandson, it almost drove him mad. But the child was gone, and so Bjorn could only make one decision.
'Throw it away.'
Bjorn briefly commanded, putting down the child's doll he had been clutching for a long time. And that night, those objects turned to ash and smoke, vanishing from this world. Like their first child, who had departed in vain.
Bjorn clenched his hand tightly, still feeling the infinitely soft sensation. A sense of emptiness filled him as he realized that Erna wasn't the only one running away.
“2 minutes left.”
Erna's soft voice scratched his ear.
Bjorn opened his tightly shut eyes and turned around. Just then, the oblivious calf let out a bright, innocent cry. Erna smiled, gazing at the young animal. It was the kind of smile she would have given her child, had she been born safely.
“It’s one minute now.”
Erna raised her head, frowning slightly.
“Why did you ask to talk when you have nothing to say?”
"...gift."
Bjorn's gaze, which had been staring at the ray of light streaming in through the window, turned back to Erna.
“Tell me what gift you would like to receive.”
“A gift?”
“It’s your birthday soon.”
Even to his ears, it sounded like a pretty idiotic thing to say, but other than that, he had a hard time finding anything else to say.
“10 minutes. It’s all filled up.”
The sound of Erna closing the lid of his pocket watch was heard coldly and decisively.
“I kept my promise, so I’ll be going now.”
Erna handed the watch back in a remarkably businesslike manner. But her expressionless face and stiff tone couldn't hide the slight trembling in her eyes and voice.
"To answer your question, all I want from you now is a divorce. Of course, I will never date again."
With that heartless reply, Erna turned away. Behind the woman's back, as she walked away, a loose braid of hair swayed. The ribbon fluttering from its end was, of all things, pink. It was the same color as the calf's.
It was absurd and annoying, yet endearing, and Bjorn laughed.
“I’ll name that calf.”
Bjorn, standing upright, calmly shouted at Erna, who was about to open the stable door. Erna glanced over her shoulder at him.
“Just call it a divorce.”
“What does that mean?”
“That’s your favorite word these days.”
After a moment of sarcastic remarks, Bjorn turned and headed back to the pen where his horse was staying. The calf bleated again, as if it disapproved of the name.
Erna, who had been glaring at him in astonishment, disappeared shortly afterward. Meanwhile, Bjorn, having finished preparing to go riding, led his horse out of the stables.
Bjorn and his snow-white horse galloped at full speed. The sound of their hooves galloping across the barren field mingled with the rustling of dry grass in the wind.
Bjorn ran to a clearing deep in the forest, smoked a few cigars there, and then returned to Baden. He then immediately summoned the only servant left at Schwerin Palace.
“I need to go to Schwerin.”
Bjorn, perched on the windowsill in his riding attire, brushed away the long ash and issued a calm command. The cigar smoke he exhaled drifted away in the cool breeze that blew through the open window.
"There's a lot to prepare, so I'll ask for Mrs. Fitz's help. I'll contact the palace in advance."
Bjorn, facing the servant with a bewildered expression, gave a light smile, completely different from the words he was saying.
“At the latest, by my wife’s birthday.”
Bjorn threw his half-smoked cigar into the ashtray and stood up straight.
“How is it? Can you do it?”
“...Yes. Of course.”
The servant swallowed dryly and hurriedly followed the Prince's order, which was disguised as a question.
“I will do as you command, Your Highness.”
“How about Ella? Or Sylvia?”
Lisa's diligent recitation of names created a commotion in the stable.
“What about Christa? Does it feel too classy?”
Erna, too, took the naming task seriously. Even after the calf, having finished its hay meal, returned to its mother, the two people standing before it continued their serious discussion for a long time.
Ralph Royce watched the scene, leaning against the stable door. A pleased smile, unknowingly, brightened his wrinkled face.
It was purely Erna's fault for placing the calf with the Badens. She was so attached to the young animal that he couldn't even bring himself to mention that he planned to sell it once it grew a little older. Fortunately, the Baroness seemed to agree, and last night, the newborn calf was accepted as a new member of the Badens. Seeing how happy she was, it was clear he had made the right decision.
“Mr. Royce, is Lisa here?”
Ralph Royce turned his head in surprise at the words of the maid who came running in, out of breath.
“Ah! There it is.”
Before he could answer, the maid approached Lisa, who was standing in front of the calf pen. It was then that the Prince suddenly appeared.
“I came to pick up the horse.”
Facing the Baden family's coachman, who was shaking his head in shock, Bjorn lowered his voice and explained his business.
“Then I, I will hurry...”
“No, it’s okay.”
Bjorn smiled at the flustered coachman and stepped lightly across the stable threshold. The gatekeeper of Hell, who had been guarding Erna, was being led in by a maid sent by the Baroness.
Shhhh.
Bjorn, who met Lisa's eyes in shock, brought a finger to his lips to signal her attention. Erna was still completely absorbed in the calf.
“Leave quietly, Lisa.”
Bjorn gave a soft warning to Lisa, who opened her lips as if to call Erna.
“Before I cut you off.”
The words added in a whisper contained even deeper sincerity.
Lisa's expression was utterly resentful and sorrowful, but she couldn't bear it any longer and took a step forward. Even so, she didn't forget to cough, a tearful display of loyalty. Unfortunately, her master didn't have the presence of mind to understand, so it was all in vain.
After confirming that the stable door had closed, Bjorn slowly approached the cow pen, his pack on his back. Erna, muttering something and examining a calf, finally noticed his presence. It was intentional, but it strangely hurt her pride.
“Did you send Lisa away on purpose?”
Erna's question, as if hurled, was sharp. Bjorn smiled, one corner of his lips slightly raised, and he approached the fence.
“Your maid has been summoned to the Baroness.”
Bjorn responded indifferently and examined the calf. Lisa's letter must have been a lie, for the calf was wearing a colorful knitted garment. A closer look revealed a ribbon around its neck. There was no need to speculate about its taste.
“Really?”
Erna looked at him with a hint of indifference. Bjorn, taking his gaze away from the rustic calf, turned and leaned against the fence.
“I think the illusion is a bit more extreme than it looks?”
"Yes?"
“But what can I do? As you can see, I just came out to go horseback riding.”
Bjorn pointed to himself in his riding attire with a sly, lazy gesture.
“If it’s Your Highness’s will, I’d be willing to spend the two of you alone.”
"...No!"
Erna, who had been blankly staring at him, frowned and became serious later.
“Then, Your Highness, go horseback riding.”
“Erna.”
“I’m leaving now for Lisa... Ah!”
Erna, who had been hastily turning around, let out a scream of surprise at the hand that grabbed her arm. Bjorn, no longer looking relaxed, stood in her way.
“You always run away like this.”
Bjorn, who was looking down at Erna, who was gripped by instinctive fear, whispered as if sighing.
“Just give me 10 minutes.”
Bjorn let go of the arm he had been holding tightly, took the pocket watch out of his jacket pocket, and placed it in Erna's hand.
“If you don’t allow this, I feel like I’ll be in big trouble.”
“What misunderstanding?”
“The misconception that you still love me very much.”
Bjorn slowly opened his closed eyes and looked at Erna.
“It’s a misunderstanding that you keep running away because you’re afraid that your feelings will be revealed.”
Unlike his light-hearted, joking tone, his gaze towards Erna was deep and sharp.
Erna, who was looking back and forth between her eyes and the watch in her hand, let out a long sigh of resignation.
“10:25.”
Erna opened her watch and briefly reported the time she had checked.
“We’ll be leaving in exactly 35 minutes.”
With that announcement, Erna lowered her eyes. Bjorn chuckled and leaned against the fence again, arms crossed loosely.
“Were you having a conversation with a calf?”
It took Bjorn a minute before he asked his first question. His voice was low and soft, no longer playful.
“I was naming the calf with Lisa. We decided not to sell it and to raise it with its mother.”
Erna, no longer wanting to engage in a heated argument, answered obediently. Her gaze remained fixed on the watch in her hand.
“That’s a name. You’re quite sincere.”
“Don’t laugh. This is very important to me.”
“Erna.”
He sighed, calling her name as he turned his head, and saw a young calf suckling its mother's milk. It was white with light brown spots. Their resemblance was striking, and they looked incredibly affectionate.
He vaguely understood why the foolish Erna had been watching this scene. Seeing the mother doting on her identical calf and the calf following her, she must have been reminded of her own lost child. Perhaps that's why she developed such a special attachment to the young animal.
Bjorn couldn't continue speaking and slowly wiped his face.
He was suddenly furious at this woman, who had the gall to run away in the middle of the night and send divorce papers, yet still managed to act so innocently. It was a strange kind of anger, one that made him want to scream like a madman, but which also left him feeling a deep, cold chill.
“There are five minutes left.”
Erna checked the watch in her hand and told him how much time was left.
Bjorn turned his gaze from the calf in the ribboned garment to Erna. Just like that day, the thick scent of blood lingered in his nostrils.
Among the things Erna had thrown away before she woke up was something like this. A pair of ridiculously tiny knitted baby socks. Their vibrant colors were just like the candy Erna loved to eat. The ribbon on his ankle, smaller than a knuckle, was the same.
That day, Bjorn personally examined all the child's belongings that the servants had brought. He chuckled at the thought of how diligently she had collected them, even amidst the chaos of the series of events. They were all so small and simple, so unlike the child of the Grand Duke and the King's grandson, it almost drove him mad. But the child was gone, and so Bjorn could only make one decision.
'Throw it away.'
Bjorn briefly commanded, putting down the child's doll he had been clutching for a long time. And that night, those objects turned to ash and smoke, vanishing from this world. Like their first child, who had departed in vain.
Bjorn clenched his hand tightly, still feeling the infinitely soft sensation. A sense of emptiness filled him as he realized that Erna wasn't the only one running away.
“2 minutes left.”
Erna's soft voice scratched his ear.
Bjorn opened his tightly shut eyes and turned around. Just then, the oblivious calf let out a bright, innocent cry. Erna smiled, gazing at the young animal. It was the kind of smile she would have given her child, had she been born safely.
“It’s one minute now.”
Erna raised her head, frowning slightly.
“Why did you ask to talk when you have nothing to say?”
"...gift."
Bjorn's gaze, which had been staring at the ray of light streaming in through the window, turned back to Erna.
“Tell me what gift you would like to receive.”
“A gift?”
“It’s your birthday soon.”
Even to his ears, it sounded like a pretty idiotic thing to say, but other than that, he had a hard time finding anything else to say.
“10 minutes. It’s all filled up.”
The sound of Erna closing the lid of his pocket watch was heard coldly and decisively.
“I kept my promise, so I’ll be going now.”
Erna handed the watch back in a remarkably businesslike manner. But her expressionless face and stiff tone couldn't hide the slight trembling in her eyes and voice.
"To answer your question, all I want from you now is a divorce. Of course, I will never date again."
With that heartless reply, Erna turned away. Behind the woman's back, as she walked away, a loose braid of hair swayed. The ribbon fluttering from its end was, of all things, pink. It was the same color as the calf's.
It was absurd and annoying, yet endearing, and Bjorn laughed.
“I’ll name that calf.”
Bjorn, standing upright, calmly shouted at Erna, who was about to open the stable door. Erna glanced over her shoulder at him.
“Just call it a divorce.”
“What does that mean?”
“That’s your favorite word these days.”
After a moment of sarcastic remarks, Bjorn turned and headed back to the pen where his horse was staying. The calf bleated again, as if it disapproved of the name.
Erna, who had been glaring at him in astonishment, disappeared shortly afterward. Meanwhile, Bjorn, having finished preparing to go riding, led his horse out of the stables.
***
Bjorn and his snow-white horse galloped at full speed. The sound of their hooves galloping across the barren field mingled with the rustling of dry grass in the wind.
Bjorn ran to a clearing deep in the forest, smoked a few cigars there, and then returned to Baden. He then immediately summoned the only servant left at Schwerin Palace.
“I need to go to Schwerin.”
Bjorn, perched on the windowsill in his riding attire, brushed away the long ash and issued a calm command. The cigar smoke he exhaled drifted away in the cool breeze that blew through the open window.
"There's a lot to prepare, so I'll ask for Mrs. Fitz's help. I'll contact the palace in advance."
Bjorn, facing the servant with a bewildered expression, gave a light smile, completely different from the words he was saying.
“At the latest, by my wife’s birthday.”
Bjorn threw his half-smoked cigar into the ashtray and stood up straight.
“How is it? Can you do it?”
“...Yes. Of course.”
The servant swallowed dryly and hurriedly followed the Prince's order, which was disguised as a question.
“I will do as you command, Your Highness.”
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