152. Winter, when the snow has stopped
The sound of the door opening and closing quietly seeped into the silence. It was late in the morning, but the fireplace kept the room from being too dark.
Bjorn walked quietly to the bed where Erna lay sleeping. Only upon seeing her soundly sleeping face did he feel a sense of relief.
“Wow, Prince!”
The nurse who found him nodding off stood up in shock. Bjorn shushed her with a calming gesture.
“Go and rest.”
"But..."
“It’s okay, come on.”
Bjorn smiled at the hesitant nurse and made his intentions clear by sitting down in the chair next to the bed. As the nurse, who had been observing him, withdrew, a cozy darkness and silence enveloped the room once again.
Bjorn gazed at his sleeping wife with eyes as silent as that night. To think she had acted like a saint while her own body was in shambles. She truly was a foolish woman. But that aspect was very much like Erna.
Bjorn carefully brushed back the hair covering Erna's cheek.
Fortunately, the scratches on her face and neck weren't deep and would heal easily. However, the wounds on her left arm and waist, where shards of broken glass had lodged, ultimately required stitches. Throughout the entire treatment, Erna didn't even let out a small scream. Even as she broke out in a cold sweat and her face turned pale, she simply smiled.
It's okay.
The words she repeated like a habit were quite irritating, but Bjorn didn't show it. He didn't want to make Erna cry again. He felt he could vaguely understand Erna's past life, where she had to be okay even when she wasn't. It was a gift from their time together in Burford.
“...Bjorn?”
A thin, sleepy voice woke Bjorn from his reverie. Their eyes met, and Erna smiled languidly and defenselessly.
Bjorn gazed at her face, a feeling of slight emptiness gripping him. Meanwhile, Erna slowly sat up, facing him. Their eyes, locked in each other's gaze, glowed with a warm glow, like the flames of a fireplace diluting the darkness.
"Are you okay?"
Erna looked at his wounded face and bandaged hands with concern. Bjorn, chuckling, looked as relaxed as ever. It was hard to believe that he had searched the wrecked train all night long in search of his wife.
“As you can see, it’s okay.”
Bjorn's low, whispering voice was as soft as the comforter Erna clutched. "I love you." Just like the moment he uttered those miraculous words of confession.
Erna, feeling somewhat embarrassed, averted her gaze. While she was struggling, unsure of what to say, Bjorn rose from his seat. Erna, taken aback by the unexpected turn of events, instinctively raised her head and looked at him.
“Rest, Erna.”
Bjorn smiled faintly and kissed Erna on the cheek, like the man he had been before, both affectionate and heartless.
“Don’t go!”
Erna, who had been watching his back, impulsively called out to him. Bjorn turned around, slightly surprised.
“Here, we are together.”
“Erna.”
“Let’s try again. You’re my husband.”
Even with her face flushed red, Erna spoke quite boldly.
“And... you also said you loved me.”
Erna's voice was trembling terribly, despite her tone of voice that seemed to be asserting her natural rights.
Bjorn, who had been quietly gazing at Erna, turned away with a quiet sigh. Love. Using that as an excuse to act as if he were holding her leash was a bit cheeky, but ironically, he didn't dislike it all that much.
Crazy kid.
Bjorn, with a self-deprecating laugh, returned to his wife's bedside. Erna, who had been staring at him, pulled back the covers and moved away, as if offering to give up her seat next to him.
“I wonder if you’ll give me an expensive bed?”
The laughter that Bjorn let out as he looked at Erna, whose ears were now red, erased the last of the tension that had remained between them.
“Because this bed isn’t mine.”
Erna, not knowing what to do, avoided eye contact but answered rather coolly.
Bjorn, laughing heartily, accepted the bold yet endearing invitation by sitting down on the bed. The body odor lingering in his nostrils was exactly as he remembered.
Bjorn willingly lay down beside his sweet wife.
The distance between the two people lying side by side gradually became closer.
Bjorn approached first, while Erna remained. Their fingertips brushed, their shoulders touched, and even as they lay face to face, gazing into each other's eyes, Erna remained silent, not running away.
Bjorn carefully cradled his wife in his arms, as if he were soothing a timid young animal. For a moment, she remained stiff. Soon, Erna surrendered herself to him.
“Did you fall asleep?”
Erna, who was breathing quietly and peacefully, whispered.
"No."
Bjorn opened his eyes, which had been tightly shut, and faced Erna, whom he was holding in his arms.
“I mean, our baby. She didn’t leave because of you.”
Erna, who had been staring at him for a long time, spoke calmly. Bjorn's hands, enjoying the feel of her soft hair flowing between his fingers, suddenly stopped.
"I haven't been feeling well for a few days now. My doctor even made several house calls. I vaguely thought everything would be okay, but it seems like my child was already on her way out."
Erna looked straight into Bjorn's eyes, which were deepening into a deep thought, and continued speaking calmly.
“And that night, I could have rejected you any time. But it was my choice not to.”
“Erna...”
"That night, the night we slept in the same bed, with the baby in my womb. You held me tightly in your sleep. Just like today, like this. I think our baby probably loved being in your arms. My stomach hurt so much every night, but that night, I was able to sleep comfortably. So sometimes, I wondered if the baby had been waiting for you. She's going to say goodbye to you one last time and leave."
Erna stroked Bjorn's frozen face with a quiet smile.
"I will remember our baby as the night I laid her in your arms and slept peacefully with her. And I hope you do the same, Bjorn."
With a gentle smile, Erna offered him the words she'd always wanted to say if she ever saw him again. Bjorn, who had been staring blankly at Erna, let out a laugh and turned his gaze to the darkness beyond.
"You're playing the best hand you have, Erna. Understand?"
After a long time, Bjorn finally faced Erna again, his eyes slightly reddened.
“No. I think you’re mistaken about something.”
Erna, lost in thought for a moment, shook her head firmly.
There were moments when she felt a wicked desire to clutch this man's guilt like a rein. Then she would no longer have to feel the weight of this love's weakness.
But Erna didn't want to become that strong.
This time, she wanted to stand side by side with this man at the same starting point. At the same pace, so they could love without hurting anyone else.
“I still have that pattern.”
“What is that?”
“Well, has there ever been a gambler in the world who would readily reveal his cards?”
Erna asked with a calm retort and a bright smile on her face. Bjorn, who had been looking at the lovely gambler with a bewildered expression, eventually joined her in smiling.
As the laughter died down, the two looked at each other with calm eyes again.
Her memories after that were vague, like something from a distant dream.
Without a word, they embraced and kissed. It was a cautious kiss, as if it were their first, with lips gently touching and breaths shared.
Again. Again.
It didn't take long for the kiss, which gradually deepened with each touch of their lips, to become filled with sensual heat.
"I love you."
Erna showed off one end of the card she had with her red, wet lips.
"I know"
His arrogant bluff was met with another kiss.
It was a little annoying, but Erna decided to understand. This man was a really good kisser.
Baroness Baden walked anxiously down the long hospital corridor. Her demeanor was unladylike, but in the face of her only granddaughter's life, it was merely a facade.
News of the accident reached the Baden family, isolated from the world, yesterday afternoon. A telegram was also sent confirming Erna's safety. It was thanks to this telegram that Baroness Baden was still alive and well. Had she received the news of the accident without knowing Erna's well-being, her frail heart would have already stopped beating.
“Her Highness is here, Baroness.”
The Schwerin Palace servant who had guided her here pointed to the sickroom at the end of the corridor.
Baroness Baden and Madame Greve hurried to the door. They knew they shouldn't startle their sick child, but the tears shed showed no sign of stopping.
“Erna, my baby!”
Baroness Baden opened the door to the hospital room, calling her granddaughter's name amidst a burst of tears. But she froze before taking even a few steps.
It was clearly Erna's hospital room, but the first thing she saw was Prince Bjorn lying on the bed. Just as she wondered if the attendant had made a mistake, she discovered her beloved granddaughter asleep in the Prince's arms.
“Oh my god.”
Baroness Baden stepped back, covering her mouth with a handkerchief soaked with tears. Her face looked as if she had faced the brimstone of hell, the place where the debauched are consumed.
She quickly fled from the absurd sight. Madame Greve, who had belatedly grasped the situation, also crossed herself and followed the Baroness.
As the door closed again, a soft silence fell over the hospital room where the two people were sleeping.
The divorce was a thing of the past.
Even as the rumors became established fact, the Grand Duke and Grand Duchess slept soundly. A ray of sunlight filtered through a crack in the curtains, illuminating the two, who appeared relaxed, as if in a good dream.
It was a bright, late winter noon, after the snow had stopped.
The sound of the door opening and closing quietly seeped into the silence. It was late in the morning, but the fireplace kept the room from being too dark.
Bjorn walked quietly to the bed where Erna lay sleeping. Only upon seeing her soundly sleeping face did he feel a sense of relief.
“Wow, Prince!”
The nurse who found him nodding off stood up in shock. Bjorn shushed her with a calming gesture.
“Go and rest.”
"But..."
“It’s okay, come on.”
Bjorn smiled at the hesitant nurse and made his intentions clear by sitting down in the chair next to the bed. As the nurse, who had been observing him, withdrew, a cozy darkness and silence enveloped the room once again.
Bjorn gazed at his sleeping wife with eyes as silent as that night. To think she had acted like a saint while her own body was in shambles. She truly was a foolish woman. But that aspect was very much like Erna.
Bjorn carefully brushed back the hair covering Erna's cheek.
Fortunately, the scratches on her face and neck weren't deep and would heal easily. However, the wounds on her left arm and waist, where shards of broken glass had lodged, ultimately required stitches. Throughout the entire treatment, Erna didn't even let out a small scream. Even as she broke out in a cold sweat and her face turned pale, she simply smiled.
It's okay.
The words she repeated like a habit were quite irritating, but Bjorn didn't show it. He didn't want to make Erna cry again. He felt he could vaguely understand Erna's past life, where she had to be okay even when she wasn't. It was a gift from their time together in Burford.
“...Bjorn?”
A thin, sleepy voice woke Bjorn from his reverie. Their eyes met, and Erna smiled languidly and defenselessly.
Bjorn gazed at her face, a feeling of slight emptiness gripping him. Meanwhile, Erna slowly sat up, facing him. Their eyes, locked in each other's gaze, glowed with a warm glow, like the flames of a fireplace diluting the darkness.
"Are you okay?"
Erna looked at his wounded face and bandaged hands with concern. Bjorn, chuckling, looked as relaxed as ever. It was hard to believe that he had searched the wrecked train all night long in search of his wife.
“As you can see, it’s okay.”
Bjorn's low, whispering voice was as soft as the comforter Erna clutched. "I love you." Just like the moment he uttered those miraculous words of confession.
Erna, feeling somewhat embarrassed, averted her gaze. While she was struggling, unsure of what to say, Bjorn rose from his seat. Erna, taken aback by the unexpected turn of events, instinctively raised her head and looked at him.
“Rest, Erna.”
Bjorn smiled faintly and kissed Erna on the cheek, like the man he had been before, both affectionate and heartless.
“Don’t go!”
Erna, who had been watching his back, impulsively called out to him. Bjorn turned around, slightly surprised.
“Here, we are together.”
“Erna.”
“Let’s try again. You’re my husband.”
Even with her face flushed red, Erna spoke quite boldly.
“And... you also said you loved me.”
Erna's voice was trembling terribly, despite her tone of voice that seemed to be asserting her natural rights.
Bjorn, who had been quietly gazing at Erna, turned away with a quiet sigh. Love. Using that as an excuse to act as if he were holding her leash was a bit cheeky, but ironically, he didn't dislike it all that much.
Crazy kid.
Bjorn, with a self-deprecating laugh, returned to his wife's bedside. Erna, who had been staring at him, pulled back the covers and moved away, as if offering to give up her seat next to him.
“I wonder if you’ll give me an expensive bed?”
The laughter that Bjorn let out as he looked at Erna, whose ears were now red, erased the last of the tension that had remained between them.
“Because this bed isn’t mine.”
Erna, not knowing what to do, avoided eye contact but answered rather coolly.
Bjorn, laughing heartily, accepted the bold yet endearing invitation by sitting down on the bed. The body odor lingering in his nostrils was exactly as he remembered.
Bjorn willingly lay down beside his sweet wife.
***
The distance between the two people lying side by side gradually became closer.
Bjorn approached first, while Erna remained. Their fingertips brushed, their shoulders touched, and even as they lay face to face, gazing into each other's eyes, Erna remained silent, not running away.
Bjorn carefully cradled his wife in his arms, as if he were soothing a timid young animal. For a moment, she remained stiff. Soon, Erna surrendered herself to him.
“Did you fall asleep?”
Erna, who was breathing quietly and peacefully, whispered.
"No."
Bjorn opened his eyes, which had been tightly shut, and faced Erna, whom he was holding in his arms.
“I mean, our baby. She didn’t leave because of you.”
Erna, who had been staring at him for a long time, spoke calmly. Bjorn's hands, enjoying the feel of her soft hair flowing between his fingers, suddenly stopped.
"I haven't been feeling well for a few days now. My doctor even made several house calls. I vaguely thought everything would be okay, but it seems like my child was already on her way out."
Erna looked straight into Bjorn's eyes, which were deepening into a deep thought, and continued speaking calmly.
“And that night, I could have rejected you any time. But it was my choice not to.”
“Erna...”
"That night, the night we slept in the same bed, with the baby in my womb. You held me tightly in your sleep. Just like today, like this. I think our baby probably loved being in your arms. My stomach hurt so much every night, but that night, I was able to sleep comfortably. So sometimes, I wondered if the baby had been waiting for you. She's going to say goodbye to you one last time and leave."
Erna stroked Bjorn's frozen face with a quiet smile.
"I will remember our baby as the night I laid her in your arms and slept peacefully with her. And I hope you do the same, Bjorn."
With a gentle smile, Erna offered him the words she'd always wanted to say if she ever saw him again. Bjorn, who had been staring blankly at Erna, let out a laugh and turned his gaze to the darkness beyond.
"You're playing the best hand you have, Erna. Understand?"
After a long time, Bjorn finally faced Erna again, his eyes slightly reddened.
“No. I think you’re mistaken about something.”
Erna, lost in thought for a moment, shook her head firmly.
There were moments when she felt a wicked desire to clutch this man's guilt like a rein. Then she would no longer have to feel the weight of this love's weakness.
But Erna didn't want to become that strong.
This time, she wanted to stand side by side with this man at the same starting point. At the same pace, so they could love without hurting anyone else.
“I still have that pattern.”
“What is that?”
“Well, has there ever been a gambler in the world who would readily reveal his cards?”
Erna asked with a calm retort and a bright smile on her face. Bjorn, who had been looking at the lovely gambler with a bewildered expression, eventually joined her in smiling.
As the laughter died down, the two looked at each other with calm eyes again.
Her memories after that were vague, like something from a distant dream.
Without a word, they embraced and kissed. It was a cautious kiss, as if it were their first, with lips gently touching and breaths shared.
Again. Again.
It didn't take long for the kiss, which gradually deepened with each touch of their lips, to become filled with sensual heat.
"I love you."
Erna showed off one end of the card she had with her red, wet lips.
"I know"
His arrogant bluff was met with another kiss.
It was a little annoying, but Erna decided to understand. This man was a really good kisser.
***
Baroness Baden walked anxiously down the long hospital corridor. Her demeanor was unladylike, but in the face of her only granddaughter's life, it was merely a facade.
News of the accident reached the Baden family, isolated from the world, yesterday afternoon. A telegram was also sent confirming Erna's safety. It was thanks to this telegram that Baroness Baden was still alive and well. Had she received the news of the accident without knowing Erna's well-being, her frail heart would have already stopped beating.
“Her Highness is here, Baroness.”
The Schwerin Palace servant who had guided her here pointed to the sickroom at the end of the corridor.
Baroness Baden and Madame Greve hurried to the door. They knew they shouldn't startle their sick child, but the tears shed showed no sign of stopping.
“Erna, my baby!”
Baroness Baden opened the door to the hospital room, calling her granddaughter's name amidst a burst of tears. But she froze before taking even a few steps.
It was clearly Erna's hospital room, but the first thing she saw was Prince Bjorn lying on the bed. Just as she wondered if the attendant had made a mistake, she discovered her beloved granddaughter asleep in the Prince's arms.
“Oh my god.”
Baroness Baden stepped back, covering her mouth with a handkerchief soaked with tears. Her face looked as if she had faced the brimstone of hell, the place where the debauched are consumed.
She quickly fled from the absurd sight. Madame Greve, who had belatedly grasped the situation, also crossed herself and followed the Baroness.
As the door closed again, a soft silence fell over the hospital room where the two people were sleeping.
The divorce was a thing of the past.
Even as the rumors became established fact, the Grand Duke and Grand Duchess slept soundly. A ray of sunlight filtered through a crack in the curtains, illuminating the two, who appeared relaxed, as if in a good dream.
It was a bright, late winter noon, after the snow had stopped.
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