147. Goodbye, goodbye
The snowman slowly melted. And as promised, Bjorn spent that time with Erna.
There was nothing special.
While Bjorn slept, she stayed by his bedside. She brought him food and medicine, and she wiped his sweaty face.
As Bjorn recovered, their time together became much more peaceful. No longer confined to bed, he spent his days reading and taking walks, as usual, while Erna, too, lived the ordinary life of her country home.
But there was Bjorn.
On the way to see the young calf, Christa. Staring blankly at the fireplace flames or strolling through the house, every moment she turned her head to follow the gaze that followed her, and without fail, Bjorn was there.
When their eyes met, they gazed at each other quietly. When Bjorn spoke to her as calmly as ever, Erna offered curt replies. A sly aside, a joke. Or a light, charming smile. These very expressions, so typical of him, heightened the strange tension.
One day, while she was making artificial flowers with him sitting across the table from her, she made a mistake and ruined three of them. Bjorn, who was sitting there, resting his chin on his hand, watched, his soft laughter mingling with Erna's sigh. She lowered her gaze, glaring at his sullen face illuminated by the pearly sunlight of the clear afternoon, and saw smooth hands tending to the ruined artificial flowers. Erna ultimately failed to produce as many flowers as she had planned that day.
What on earth has changed?
Sometimes, when she encountered Bjorn, who seemed unchanged, such questions would come to her. The memory of that day, when they built the three snowmen, felt like a dream.
But every evening, the sun set, and around that time, as if by some unspoken agreement, the two stood side by side at the window, watching the snowman shrink. The distance, once as vast as one end to the other, grew smaller with each passing day.
In the evening, when the baby snowman's form had faded, they stood within arm's reach, gazing out into the garden until the darkness thickened. Contrary to her worries that she might experience the sadness of losing a baby a second time, the time passed peacefully. The next morning, Bjorn departed for Schwerin again.
“Your Highness! It seems the Prince is returning to Schwerin!”
Lisa's clear voice broke the silence in the room.
Erna, ready to go for her morning walk, approached the window without a trace of surprise. She'd already heard that Bjorn was leaving that day.
“Are you really going this time? Or are you going to come back to Buford after your busy schedule?”
While Lisa tilted her head, Bjorn approached the waiting carriage. He had returned to his princely duties, perfectly attired and dignified.
Erna turned around, put on her hat, and set out for her morning walk. Her footsteps, even more hurried than usual, shattered the morning silence that reigned over Baden Street.
“It’s an honor that you all came out to see me off.”
As she ran out the front door, she heard Bjorn's voice, mixed with laughter. He was standing in front of the open carriage door, looking at Erna. His expression was relaxed, as if he knew this would happen.
“Of course, my wife will make an excuse about going for a morning walk.”
The sunlight of the newly broken morning illuminated his face, which was smiling mischievously.
Erna, who had lost her prepared rebuttal, ended up biting her lips without saying anything.
“Do you want to go together?”
Bjorn approached slowly, tilting his head up and looking down at Erna. The elegant ruler's gesture accentuated the playful smile on his lips.
"No."
Erna hurriedly gave a sharp reply. Her right hand, clutching the hem of her skirt, trembled slightly. It was the hand Bjorn had held the previous evening, when they had been watching a snowman together in the sunset.
Their arms touched, their hands brushed against each other, and then, as if by chance, a large, soft hand enveloped Erna's. Unable to push it away or hold on, Erna stubbornly stared at the snowman outside the window. Meanwhile, his fingers entangle tightly with hers.
It was a strange thing.
They were a couple. They'd been through so many things together that it's almost too shameful to even recall. Why was something as simple as touching so embarrassing and difficult to bear?
Finally, Erna hastily pulled her hand free. Fortunately, Bjorn complied, but the unfamiliar sensation still lingered within her, flushing her cheeks. The sunset, at its peak, was a blessing.
“Then there’s no other choice.”
Bjorn nodded and smiled as if he would gladly agree.
“I guess I have to return to my wife this time too.”
Don't come.
Just as she was about to give him the prepared answer, Bjorn's hand snatched Erna's small, frozen hand. Only when she felt soft lips against the back of her hand did Erna realize what he had done.
Oh my god.
Bjorn let go of Erna, who was muttering in disbelief, and greeted her politely, as if she were a Princess. Even then, the mischievous smile on his lips remained.
While Erna rubbed the back of her hand, frowning, Bjorn leisurely climbed into the carriage. His composure, even waving a hand through the window, only deepened the blush on Erna's already flushed cheeks.
Only after the carriage carrying the impudent man had moved away, down the snow-covered road, did Erna finally turn around. She rubbed the back of her hand so hard it hurt.
Even after that day, Erna often rubbed the itchy back of her hand for no reason. But Erna's days at the Baden house were no different than before. Aside from the disappearance of the snowman and the departure of Bjorn, nothing had changed. Those were the days.
One afternoon, as another day passed by like that, Erna grabbed her beloved cookie jar and went for a walk. She had to be very careful about slipping out of the Baden mansion while Lisa was away.
Erna headed through the barren fields toward the forest. After walking a short distance along a path lined with bare trees, a familiar clearing appeared. Drenched in sunlight, the snow had melted, making it seem a world apart from the rest of the forest.
Erna walked toward the half-melted stream. The sound of dry grass brushing against her skirt shattered the silence of the forest.
Erna, standing in a flower garden filled with the sweet fragrance of spring, slowly opened the lid of the cookie tin she'd been holding close to her chest. Sunlight streamed down onto the flowers, ribbons, and cigars that had adorned the snowman family. These were the things Erna had gathered in the garden that morning, after the snowman had melted and Bjorn had left.
After a long while, Erna closed the lid and placed the can on a flat rock by the stream. She took out the trowel she'd kept in her straw bag and grabbed it. It would have been better to bring a slightly larger trowel, but this was the best she could do to avoid being caught.
Erna, taking a deep breath as if steeling her resolve, crouched down in the center of the silverbell grove, clutching the shovel tightly. Soon, the rhythmic, tap-tap sound of a small shovel digging began to resonate. After a long struggle, a hole was dug, wide and deep enough to bury a cookie jar.
Erna stood up, panting, and took out a handkerchief with her gloved hand. The hand that wiped her sweaty forehead and smoothed her stray hair was gentle and careful, unlike the lady who had just been digging in the dirt.
When she was mentally prepared, Erna carefully placed the cookie tin into the hole she'd dug in the flower garden. The snowman on the crumpled tin lid was smiling brightly, as always.
"Goodbye."
Erna said goodbye to the past with a smile, just as she had when she was a child and received those cookies as a gift from her grandfather.
She felt like she could finally let go of the feelings she's been holding onto, even though she knew it was foolish. Without tears, calmly. Like that time when a snowman melted in the sunlight.
Burford is a beautiful place, and she'll love it until her last breath, but Erna has finally come to terms with the fact that it's not a perfect paradise. She can't dwell on the past and avoid the present forever.
"Goodbye."
She also said a tender farewell to the child whom she could now let go of in her heart.
She could never forget that child, but she felt like she could no longer remember her with tears and sadness. The sweet scent of flowers and the spring sunshine. A time of miraculous happiness. A beautiful snowman. Their first child went to heaven with such fond memories.
Erna, with her last hesitation erased, began to cover the dirt with a much more relaxed expression. Soon, the cookie jar disappeared, and the once-dug flower bed returned to its original state.
Erna, who had carefully tamped the dirt, whispered "Goodbye" once more before rising to her feet. Her heart felt lighter as she imagined the forest landscape, where flowers would bloom, and birds would sing in spring.
Erna, gathering her now muddy shovel and gloves, turned and walked across the clearing. She paused beneath the beautiful maple tree at the other end, memories of the spring day she'd picnicked here with Bjorn flooding back to her.
They shared a playful laugh, like drunken children playing outrageous and embarrassing pranks. The insignificant chatter they shared, lying there, hugging each other tightly, was so intimate and affectionate. A feeling of tears welling up in their eyes forced them to close. Bjorn gently kissed Erna's eyes, even as they felt tears welling up in her eyes.
That day, Erna finally burst into tears. She loved him so much that she couldn't contain her happiness. It was a moment when the overwhelming loneliness of her childhood, spent playing alone here, dozing off, and waking up alone to face the evening light, melted away into tears.
Each person loved the illusion they created.
But the moment that was so dazzling, with that illusion, did not feel like a lie or a deception at all.
Having found the answer to the question that had long plagued her mind, Erna left the forest without looking back. Crossing the fields and entering the Baden family's fence, her conclusion became even more certain. Then, again, the back of her hand felt a slight tingle.
"Your Highness! Where on earth have you been? I've been looking for you for so long!"
Just as she was about to enter the house, the door burst open, and Lisa appeared. She looked extremely anxious.
Erna, who had smiled first, was pondering a suitable excuse when Lisa handed her the telegram she had been holding. Erna, who had accepted it without thinking, suddenly lost all trace of her smile.
It was a sad story that was absolutely unbelievable.
The snowman slowly melted. And as promised, Bjorn spent that time with Erna.
There was nothing special.
While Bjorn slept, she stayed by his bedside. She brought him food and medicine, and she wiped his sweaty face.
As Bjorn recovered, their time together became much more peaceful. No longer confined to bed, he spent his days reading and taking walks, as usual, while Erna, too, lived the ordinary life of her country home.
But there was Bjorn.
On the way to see the young calf, Christa. Staring blankly at the fireplace flames or strolling through the house, every moment she turned her head to follow the gaze that followed her, and without fail, Bjorn was there.
When their eyes met, they gazed at each other quietly. When Bjorn spoke to her as calmly as ever, Erna offered curt replies. A sly aside, a joke. Or a light, charming smile. These very expressions, so typical of him, heightened the strange tension.
One day, while she was making artificial flowers with him sitting across the table from her, she made a mistake and ruined three of them. Bjorn, who was sitting there, resting his chin on his hand, watched, his soft laughter mingling with Erna's sigh. She lowered her gaze, glaring at his sullen face illuminated by the pearly sunlight of the clear afternoon, and saw smooth hands tending to the ruined artificial flowers. Erna ultimately failed to produce as many flowers as she had planned that day.
What on earth has changed?
Sometimes, when she encountered Bjorn, who seemed unchanged, such questions would come to her. The memory of that day, when they built the three snowmen, felt like a dream.
But every evening, the sun set, and around that time, as if by some unspoken agreement, the two stood side by side at the window, watching the snowman shrink. The distance, once as vast as one end to the other, grew smaller with each passing day.
In the evening, when the baby snowman's form had faded, they stood within arm's reach, gazing out into the garden until the darkness thickened. Contrary to her worries that she might experience the sadness of losing a baby a second time, the time passed peacefully. The next morning, Bjorn departed for Schwerin again.
***
“Your Highness! It seems the Prince is returning to Schwerin!”
Lisa's clear voice broke the silence in the room.
Erna, ready to go for her morning walk, approached the window without a trace of surprise. She'd already heard that Bjorn was leaving that day.
“Are you really going this time? Or are you going to come back to Buford after your busy schedule?”
While Lisa tilted her head, Bjorn approached the waiting carriage. He had returned to his princely duties, perfectly attired and dignified.
Erna turned around, put on her hat, and set out for her morning walk. Her footsteps, even more hurried than usual, shattered the morning silence that reigned over Baden Street.
“It’s an honor that you all came out to see me off.”
As she ran out the front door, she heard Bjorn's voice, mixed with laughter. He was standing in front of the open carriage door, looking at Erna. His expression was relaxed, as if he knew this would happen.
“Of course, my wife will make an excuse about going for a morning walk.”
The sunlight of the newly broken morning illuminated his face, which was smiling mischievously.
Erna, who had lost her prepared rebuttal, ended up biting her lips without saying anything.
“Do you want to go together?”
Bjorn approached slowly, tilting his head up and looking down at Erna. The elegant ruler's gesture accentuated the playful smile on his lips.
"No."
Erna hurriedly gave a sharp reply. Her right hand, clutching the hem of her skirt, trembled slightly. It was the hand Bjorn had held the previous evening, when they had been watching a snowman together in the sunset.
Their arms touched, their hands brushed against each other, and then, as if by chance, a large, soft hand enveloped Erna's. Unable to push it away or hold on, Erna stubbornly stared at the snowman outside the window. Meanwhile, his fingers entangle tightly with hers.
It was a strange thing.
They were a couple. They'd been through so many things together that it's almost too shameful to even recall. Why was something as simple as touching so embarrassing and difficult to bear?
Finally, Erna hastily pulled her hand free. Fortunately, Bjorn complied, but the unfamiliar sensation still lingered within her, flushing her cheeks. The sunset, at its peak, was a blessing.
“Then there’s no other choice.”
Bjorn nodded and smiled as if he would gladly agree.
“I guess I have to return to my wife this time too.”
Don't come.
Just as she was about to give him the prepared answer, Bjorn's hand snatched Erna's small, frozen hand. Only when she felt soft lips against the back of her hand did Erna realize what he had done.
Oh my god.
Bjorn let go of Erna, who was muttering in disbelief, and greeted her politely, as if she were a Princess. Even then, the mischievous smile on his lips remained.
While Erna rubbed the back of her hand, frowning, Bjorn leisurely climbed into the carriage. His composure, even waving a hand through the window, only deepened the blush on Erna's already flushed cheeks.
Only after the carriage carrying the impudent man had moved away, down the snow-covered road, did Erna finally turn around. She rubbed the back of her hand so hard it hurt.
***
Even after that day, Erna often rubbed the itchy back of her hand for no reason. But Erna's days at the Baden house were no different than before. Aside from the disappearance of the snowman and the departure of Bjorn, nothing had changed. Those were the days.
One afternoon, as another day passed by like that, Erna grabbed her beloved cookie jar and went for a walk. She had to be very careful about slipping out of the Baden mansion while Lisa was away.
Erna headed through the barren fields toward the forest. After walking a short distance along a path lined with bare trees, a familiar clearing appeared. Drenched in sunlight, the snow had melted, making it seem a world apart from the rest of the forest.
Erna walked toward the half-melted stream. The sound of dry grass brushing against her skirt shattered the silence of the forest.
Erna, standing in a flower garden filled with the sweet fragrance of spring, slowly opened the lid of the cookie tin she'd been holding close to her chest. Sunlight streamed down onto the flowers, ribbons, and cigars that had adorned the snowman family. These were the things Erna had gathered in the garden that morning, after the snowman had melted and Bjorn had left.
After a long while, Erna closed the lid and placed the can on a flat rock by the stream. She took out the trowel she'd kept in her straw bag and grabbed it. It would have been better to bring a slightly larger trowel, but this was the best she could do to avoid being caught.
Erna, taking a deep breath as if steeling her resolve, crouched down in the center of the silverbell grove, clutching the shovel tightly. Soon, the rhythmic, tap-tap sound of a small shovel digging began to resonate. After a long struggle, a hole was dug, wide and deep enough to bury a cookie jar.
Erna stood up, panting, and took out a handkerchief with her gloved hand. The hand that wiped her sweaty forehead and smoothed her stray hair was gentle and careful, unlike the lady who had just been digging in the dirt.
When she was mentally prepared, Erna carefully placed the cookie tin into the hole she'd dug in the flower garden. The snowman on the crumpled tin lid was smiling brightly, as always.
"Goodbye."
Erna said goodbye to the past with a smile, just as she had when she was a child and received those cookies as a gift from her grandfather.
She felt like she could finally let go of the feelings she's been holding onto, even though she knew it was foolish. Without tears, calmly. Like that time when a snowman melted in the sunlight.
Burford is a beautiful place, and she'll love it until her last breath, but Erna has finally come to terms with the fact that it's not a perfect paradise. She can't dwell on the past and avoid the present forever.
"Goodbye."
She also said a tender farewell to the child whom she could now let go of in her heart.
She could never forget that child, but she felt like she could no longer remember her with tears and sadness. The sweet scent of flowers and the spring sunshine. A time of miraculous happiness. A beautiful snowman. Their first child went to heaven with such fond memories.
Erna, with her last hesitation erased, began to cover the dirt with a much more relaxed expression. Soon, the cookie jar disappeared, and the once-dug flower bed returned to its original state.
Erna, who had carefully tamped the dirt, whispered "Goodbye" once more before rising to her feet. Her heart felt lighter as she imagined the forest landscape, where flowers would bloom, and birds would sing in spring.
Erna, gathering her now muddy shovel and gloves, turned and walked across the clearing. She paused beneath the beautiful maple tree at the other end, memories of the spring day she'd picnicked here with Bjorn flooding back to her.
They shared a playful laugh, like drunken children playing outrageous and embarrassing pranks. The insignificant chatter they shared, lying there, hugging each other tightly, was so intimate and affectionate. A feeling of tears welling up in their eyes forced them to close. Bjorn gently kissed Erna's eyes, even as they felt tears welling up in her eyes.
That day, Erna finally burst into tears. She loved him so much that she couldn't contain her happiness. It was a moment when the overwhelming loneliness of her childhood, spent playing alone here, dozing off, and waking up alone to face the evening light, melted away into tears.
Each person loved the illusion they created.
But the moment that was so dazzling, with that illusion, did not feel like a lie or a deception at all.
Having found the answer to the question that had long plagued her mind, Erna left the forest without looking back. Crossing the fields and entering the Baden family's fence, her conclusion became even more certain. Then, again, the back of her hand felt a slight tingle.
"Your Highness! Where on earth have you been? I've been looking for you for so long!"
Just as she was about to enter the house, the door burst open, and Lisa appeared. She looked extremely anxious.
Erna, who had smiled first, was pondering a suitable excuse when Lisa handed her the telegram she had been holding. Erna, who had accepted it without thinking, suddenly lost all trace of her smile.
It was a sad story that was absolutely unbelievable.
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