124. So I threw it away
It was another crazy dog.
Robin Heinz stared at the Prince standing before him with a look of bewilderment. Bjorn, who was looking down at him with his head tilted slightly, had a similar expression.
“Hello, Heinz.”
Bjorn, who had been staring intently, greeted quietly.
“We meet here again.”
The whispering voice and the smile on his lips were almost sweet at first glance. While he stood there frozen, the maid, who had been swaying on the other end of the sofa, ran behind the Prince.
When you used to try to seduce me subtly, why are you acting so disgustingly now?
While he laughed and straightened his clothes, Bjorn arbitrarily dismissed the maid from the drawing room. The resemblance to the horrific humiliation he'd endured last summer made Robin Heinz's heart beat faster.
“I wonder if you have some special attachment to this living room?”
As the footsteps of the runaway maid faded, Bjorn slowly approached the sofa where Robin Heinz sat. The smell of expensive, unsavoury liquor wafted through the air.
“Or else, do you get horny like a beast every time you come here?”
“Get out of the way!”
“That’s rude.”
Bjorn, his eyebrows furrowed, blocked Robin Heinz's path as he tried to stand up.
“I asked, Heinz.”
Bjorn's movements, as he pressed the heel of his shoe against the instep of his foot, were simple, light, and elegant.
“You have to answer.”
Even as painful screams erupted before his eyes, the smile on Bjorn's lips did not waver in the slightest.
“Yes, what the hell do you have to do with this?”
As he pulled away, he shouted in anger. His face looked as if he was genuinely resentful.
Bjorn answered by lowering his eyes and staring at him intently. For a moment, he returned the gaze with a curious air, but Robin Heinz's enthusiasm didn't last long.
"That's not it. This time, it really isn't."
He got up, stammering out his words.
“That woman clearly came first...”
"Yes?"
Bjorn cut through the lame excuses with a calm retort.
That woman seduced me first.
This fool said the same thing about Erna.
Memories of last summer, vividly resurrected, resurfaced on Robin Heinz's face as he anxiously rolled his eyes. The world's reckless, filthy remarks about Erna, which he hadn't paid attention to at the time, also surfaced, one by one.
Still, she was a woman who always smiled.
Even though she became entangled with the self-proclaimed prodigal son of the royal family, she was subjected to all sorts of unjust accusations and criticism, yet she never showed any resentment. She endured everything. Even when she was nearly raped by this scumbag, she worried about him and felt sorry for him.
Bjorn was astonished once again and let out a long sigh.
He thought of Erna, waiting for him at the end of the beautifully lit bridge. The woman he'd believed he'd meet if he just stood there, waiting without an appointment, without a plan. The moment he saw her bright smile as she answered, he seemed to have unconsciously formed a belief. She would always be there waiting for him.
Looking back, Erna was truly like that. Looking back, she was always there, waiting for him. Her eyes, sparkling as beautifully as the lights illuminating the Abbey River that summer evening, would embrace him and smile.
So he thought it was okay.
Bjorn laughed again and slowly closed his eyes.
He thought it would be okay forever.
When he opened his eyes again, there was no longer any emotion left on Bjorn's face.
“Where are you going?”
Bjorn asked a calm question to Robin Heinz, who was running away like a rat.
A husband I no longer love.
The letter, which he had read and reread countless times and now knew by heart, floated up to the back of the idiot who had dared to covet his possessions.
Robin Heinz, who had stopped in his tracks, flinched and started running without looking back. He was already too drunk to even run properly, so he was worth a penny for his tenacity.
Bjorn followed him with wide strides. As the distance narrowed, his consciousness grew clearer.
“Ah!”
Just as their shadows drew close enough to overlap, Robin Heinz screamed. Only when he collapsed and rolled across the floor did he realize what had happened. Bjorn was looking down at him, his face in disbelief, having been the one who had inflicted the merciless kick.
“What the hell is going on here, you crazy bastard!”
“Well, just.”
Bjorn replied in a weary tone.
“Because I feel dirty.”
“What, what did you say?”
“When you come here, you get horny, and I get angry.”
The moment Bjorn's grinning face came into view, Robin Heinz let out a louder scream. It was only after the pain struck him that he realized it was the Prince's shoe that had kicked his face.
Bjorn's unhurried kicks, which left no room for breath, were all the more merciless because they were so leisurely. Blood flowed from Robin Heinz's nose and lips as he struggled and rolled on the floor, staining his polished shoes.
“It’s your fault, you know.”
Bjorn slowly knelt down beside Heinz, who was crouching and shivering.
"You shouldn't have made me angry. That's what it is, by your standards, isn't it?"
The gaze staring intently at his face, now a mess of tears, saliva, and blood, remained calm and cold. Robin Heinz nodded absentmindedly and sobbed.
"Try to control your desires, Heinz. Yeah? Then I can control my anger too."
Bjorn whispered to him in a friendly tone as if to soothe him, then stood up. He knows it's not very justified anger. But he didn't care. Although it is a bit of a pity that he has to spare the life of such a bastard, because we cannot live in an age of appropriate barbarism.
That night, Bjorn, who had been staring blankly at the fireplace where Erna was weeping, clutching a blood-stained candlestick, walked away with a hollow laugh. In retrospect, the bet at the card table had played a significant role in Erna's fate. The scandal that had crippled Erna Hardy's reputation stemmed from that very source.
But the woman who didn't know anything gave him flowers.
The promise Erna had given him that evening while waiting for him on the bridge suddenly came to mind. That small, lovely flower, carelessly tossed into an ashtray, must have been left behind, covered in soot.
As Erna's face, holding it out, came to mind, Bjorn found himself halting in his tracks. Her clear eyes, filled with infinite trust, were beautiful. Her shy smile was equally beautiful.
It was pretty.
That silver bell, called Gladys's flower, was just... just pretty. So he threw it away. Because he hated how pretty it was.
Just as a burst of absurd laughter erupted, a staggering sound was heard. Just as Bjorn stood upright, Robin Heinz's powerful swing of the fireplace poker sent it flying.
“That crazy guy.”
Leonid assessed his twin with more sincerity than ever before. No other words could possibly describe Bjorn Dneister in his current state.
Bjorn glanced at him, chuckled, and closed his eyes again. The thick, headache-inducing smell of alcohol filled the carriage carrying the two brothers.
“You crazy bastard. Are you laughing right now?”
Even at the question thrown out in shock, Bjorn only let out a low laugh.
He'd originally planned to turn back, but a bad feeling gripped him, and he turned back. He felt a strange compulsion to find Bjorn. If Leonid had been just a little bit longer, this madman might now be behind bars at the Schwerin police station, charged with beating the youngest son of the Heinz family to death.
When he first saw Bjorn, clutching the poker dripping with blood, he thought his heart had stopped. Leonid, quickly grasping what had happened, rushed over and grabbed Bjorn. Robin Heinz, beaten to a pulp, had already lost consciousness.
Leonid, who had roughly taken care of the situation, quickly dragged Bjorn into the carriage. Upon learning what had happened, the Marchioness of Harbour clutched her chest, her face threatening to suffocate. It was the moment when Bjorn almost sent his great-aunt to hell.
“If this is how it’s going to be, go to Baden! Go there and bring the Grand Duchess back, even if you have to cry and scream and cling to her!”
Leonid couldn't contain his anger and shouted.
The truth about Viscount Hardy's actions, Gladys's miscarriage, and more. Last summer was a particularly brutal one for the Grand Duke and his wife, as a series of terrible events unfolded one after another. Still, they believed they were coping well. Until they heard the news that the Grand Duchess had left.
Running away was an irresponsible choice, but Leonid could still understand the Grand Duchess. His parents' wishes were no different. But the Grand Duke of Schwerin—that damned Bjorn Dneister—was utterly incomprehensible.
“Grand Duchess? Ah. Erna.”
Bjorn opened his eyes slowly, sighing slowly as he sat back, leaning back against the seat. Even with that little movement, the pain in his left arm was excruciating.
The memory of that moment remained only as a vague afterimage.
Reflexively, he raised his arm to block the flying poker, and almost immediately, he kicked Robin Heinz, knocking him down. The poker fell to the floor and soon found itself in Bjorn's hands.
The hazy memory lingered on the moment he swung it at Robin Heinz, who lunged at him with a scream. When he regained consciousness, the bloody poker was in Leonid's grasp.
“Don’t worry. She’ll be back soon.”
“To a certain extent.”
“Shut up, Leo.”
Bjorn laughed as if he'd heard a particularly funny joke, then raised his right hand and ran his hand through his disheveled hair. He absentmindedly turned his gaze to the carriage window, where the lights of the house where Erna was absent began to appear.
“Erna loves me.”
A husband I no longer love.
Even though he was clearly a total drunk, the neat handwriting came to mind with terrifying clarity.
“So come back.”
“Bjorn.”
“She's supposed to come back.”
Bjorn, muttering in an increasingly languid voice, finally lost consciousness as the carriage pulled up in front of the Grand Duke's residence. Leonid, feeling a chill, took off his glasses and stepped out of the carriage first.
“Your Highness, the Crown Prince!”
Mrs. Fitz, surprised, bowed politely to him.
Leonid, who responded with a brief nod, spoke as calmly as possible, something that would further surprise the Grand Duke's servants.
“Bjorn is very drunk and unconscious.”
Fortunately, everyone had some tolerance for those words.
“There was a fight at the party at Harbour Mansion.”
The following words were also accepted with dignity.
“It seems like his arm is broken. You should call the doctor.”
Unfortunately, everyone was shocked by the last words.
It was another crazy dog.
Robin Heinz stared at the Prince standing before him with a look of bewilderment. Bjorn, who was looking down at him with his head tilted slightly, had a similar expression.
“Hello, Heinz.”
Bjorn, who had been staring intently, greeted quietly.
“We meet here again.”
The whispering voice and the smile on his lips were almost sweet at first glance. While he stood there frozen, the maid, who had been swaying on the other end of the sofa, ran behind the Prince.
When you used to try to seduce me subtly, why are you acting so disgustingly now?
While he laughed and straightened his clothes, Bjorn arbitrarily dismissed the maid from the drawing room. The resemblance to the horrific humiliation he'd endured last summer made Robin Heinz's heart beat faster.
“I wonder if you have some special attachment to this living room?”
As the footsteps of the runaway maid faded, Bjorn slowly approached the sofa where Robin Heinz sat. The smell of expensive, unsavoury liquor wafted through the air.
“Or else, do you get horny like a beast every time you come here?”
“Get out of the way!”
“That’s rude.”
Bjorn, his eyebrows furrowed, blocked Robin Heinz's path as he tried to stand up.
“I asked, Heinz.”
Bjorn's movements, as he pressed the heel of his shoe against the instep of his foot, were simple, light, and elegant.
“You have to answer.”
Even as painful screams erupted before his eyes, the smile on Bjorn's lips did not waver in the slightest.
“Yes, what the hell do you have to do with this?”
As he pulled away, he shouted in anger. His face looked as if he was genuinely resentful.
Bjorn answered by lowering his eyes and staring at him intently. For a moment, he returned the gaze with a curious air, but Robin Heinz's enthusiasm didn't last long.
"That's not it. This time, it really isn't."
He got up, stammering out his words.
“That woman clearly came first...”
"Yes?"
Bjorn cut through the lame excuses with a calm retort.
That woman seduced me first.
This fool said the same thing about Erna.
Memories of last summer, vividly resurrected, resurfaced on Robin Heinz's face as he anxiously rolled his eyes. The world's reckless, filthy remarks about Erna, which he hadn't paid attention to at the time, also surfaced, one by one.
Still, she was a woman who always smiled.
Even though she became entangled with the self-proclaimed prodigal son of the royal family, she was subjected to all sorts of unjust accusations and criticism, yet she never showed any resentment. She endured everything. Even when she was nearly raped by this scumbag, she worried about him and felt sorry for him.
Bjorn was astonished once again and let out a long sigh.
He thought of Erna, waiting for him at the end of the beautifully lit bridge. The woman he'd believed he'd meet if he just stood there, waiting without an appointment, without a plan. The moment he saw her bright smile as she answered, he seemed to have unconsciously formed a belief. She would always be there waiting for him.
Looking back, Erna was truly like that. Looking back, she was always there, waiting for him. Her eyes, sparkling as beautifully as the lights illuminating the Abbey River that summer evening, would embrace him and smile.
So he thought it was okay.
Bjorn laughed again and slowly closed his eyes.
He thought it would be okay forever.
When he opened his eyes again, there was no longer any emotion left on Bjorn's face.
“Where are you going?”
Bjorn asked a calm question to Robin Heinz, who was running away like a rat.
A husband I no longer love.
The letter, which he had read and reread countless times and now knew by heart, floated up to the back of the idiot who had dared to covet his possessions.
Robin Heinz, who had stopped in his tracks, flinched and started running without looking back. He was already too drunk to even run properly, so he was worth a penny for his tenacity.
Bjorn followed him with wide strides. As the distance narrowed, his consciousness grew clearer.
“Ah!”
Just as their shadows drew close enough to overlap, Robin Heinz screamed. Only when he collapsed and rolled across the floor did he realize what had happened. Bjorn was looking down at him, his face in disbelief, having been the one who had inflicted the merciless kick.
“What the hell is going on here, you crazy bastard!”
“Well, just.”
Bjorn replied in a weary tone.
“Because I feel dirty.”
“What, what did you say?”
“When you come here, you get horny, and I get angry.”
The moment Bjorn's grinning face came into view, Robin Heinz let out a louder scream. It was only after the pain struck him that he realized it was the Prince's shoe that had kicked his face.
Bjorn's unhurried kicks, which left no room for breath, were all the more merciless because they were so leisurely. Blood flowed from Robin Heinz's nose and lips as he struggled and rolled on the floor, staining his polished shoes.
“It’s your fault, you know.”
Bjorn slowly knelt down beside Heinz, who was crouching and shivering.
"You shouldn't have made me angry. That's what it is, by your standards, isn't it?"
The gaze staring intently at his face, now a mess of tears, saliva, and blood, remained calm and cold. Robin Heinz nodded absentmindedly and sobbed.
"Try to control your desires, Heinz. Yeah? Then I can control my anger too."
Bjorn whispered to him in a friendly tone as if to soothe him, then stood up. He knows it's not very justified anger. But he didn't care. Although it is a bit of a pity that he has to spare the life of such a bastard, because we cannot live in an age of appropriate barbarism.
That night, Bjorn, who had been staring blankly at the fireplace where Erna was weeping, clutching a blood-stained candlestick, walked away with a hollow laugh. In retrospect, the bet at the card table had played a significant role in Erna's fate. The scandal that had crippled Erna Hardy's reputation stemmed from that very source.
But the woman who didn't know anything gave him flowers.
The promise Erna had given him that evening while waiting for him on the bridge suddenly came to mind. That small, lovely flower, carelessly tossed into an ashtray, must have been left behind, covered in soot.
As Erna's face, holding it out, came to mind, Bjorn found himself halting in his tracks. Her clear eyes, filled with infinite trust, were beautiful. Her shy smile was equally beautiful.
It was pretty.
That silver bell, called Gladys's flower, was just... just pretty. So he threw it away. Because he hated how pretty it was.
Just as a burst of absurd laughter erupted, a staggering sound was heard. Just as Bjorn stood upright, Robin Heinz's powerful swing of the fireplace poker sent it flying.
***
“That crazy guy.”
Leonid assessed his twin with more sincerity than ever before. No other words could possibly describe Bjorn Dneister in his current state.
Bjorn glanced at him, chuckled, and closed his eyes again. The thick, headache-inducing smell of alcohol filled the carriage carrying the two brothers.
“You crazy bastard. Are you laughing right now?”
Even at the question thrown out in shock, Bjorn only let out a low laugh.
He'd originally planned to turn back, but a bad feeling gripped him, and he turned back. He felt a strange compulsion to find Bjorn. If Leonid had been just a little bit longer, this madman might now be behind bars at the Schwerin police station, charged with beating the youngest son of the Heinz family to death.
When he first saw Bjorn, clutching the poker dripping with blood, he thought his heart had stopped. Leonid, quickly grasping what had happened, rushed over and grabbed Bjorn. Robin Heinz, beaten to a pulp, had already lost consciousness.
Leonid, who had roughly taken care of the situation, quickly dragged Bjorn into the carriage. Upon learning what had happened, the Marchioness of Harbour clutched her chest, her face threatening to suffocate. It was the moment when Bjorn almost sent his great-aunt to hell.
“If this is how it’s going to be, go to Baden! Go there and bring the Grand Duchess back, even if you have to cry and scream and cling to her!”
Leonid couldn't contain his anger and shouted.
The truth about Viscount Hardy's actions, Gladys's miscarriage, and more. Last summer was a particularly brutal one for the Grand Duke and his wife, as a series of terrible events unfolded one after another. Still, they believed they were coping well. Until they heard the news that the Grand Duchess had left.
Running away was an irresponsible choice, but Leonid could still understand the Grand Duchess. His parents' wishes were no different. But the Grand Duke of Schwerin—that damned Bjorn Dneister—was utterly incomprehensible.
“Grand Duchess? Ah. Erna.”
Bjorn opened his eyes slowly, sighing slowly as he sat back, leaning back against the seat. Even with that little movement, the pain in his left arm was excruciating.
The memory of that moment remained only as a vague afterimage.
Reflexively, he raised his arm to block the flying poker, and almost immediately, he kicked Robin Heinz, knocking him down. The poker fell to the floor and soon found itself in Bjorn's hands.
The hazy memory lingered on the moment he swung it at Robin Heinz, who lunged at him with a scream. When he regained consciousness, the bloody poker was in Leonid's grasp.
“Don’t worry. She’ll be back soon.”
“To a certain extent.”
“Shut up, Leo.”
Bjorn laughed as if he'd heard a particularly funny joke, then raised his right hand and ran his hand through his disheveled hair. He absentmindedly turned his gaze to the carriage window, where the lights of the house where Erna was absent began to appear.
“Erna loves me.”
A husband I no longer love.
Even though he was clearly a total drunk, the neat handwriting came to mind with terrifying clarity.
“So come back.”
“Bjorn.”
“She's supposed to come back.”
Bjorn, muttering in an increasingly languid voice, finally lost consciousness as the carriage pulled up in front of the Grand Duke's residence. Leonid, feeling a chill, took off his glasses and stepped out of the carriage first.
“Your Highness, the Crown Prince!”
Mrs. Fitz, surprised, bowed politely to him.
Leonid, who responded with a brief nod, spoke as calmly as possible, something that would further surprise the Grand Duke's servants.
“Bjorn is very drunk and unconscious.”
Fortunately, everyone had some tolerance for those words.
“There was a fight at the party at Harbour Mansion.”
The following words were also accepted with dignity.
“It seems like his arm is broken. You should call the doctor.”
Unfortunately, everyone was shocked by the last words.
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