Side Story 2. Latest Trends
The port of Schwerin was busier than usual on the day the cruise ship departed. Crowds flocked to see the Grand Duke and his wife on their tour.
The commotion over the front row seats finally subsided when the Grand Duke's carriage appeared. As the guards in full uniforms maintained order, the door of the carriage, adorned with the Grand Duke's crest, opened. "Wow!" A deafening roar of cheers instantly filled the harbor.
Lisa looked at the Grand Duchess with pride. Erna, in her new, pale pink spring dress, was truly dazzlingly beautiful. No matter what anyone said, to Lisa, it was.
This lady is Lisa Brill's masterpiece.
Lisa, desperately suppressing the urge to shout out loud to the world, followed the Grand Duchess and her husband at a brisk pace. Everyone cheered with such fervor. It seemed as if the days of being unable to slap the Grand Duchess were completely forgotten. It wouldn't be an exaggeration to say that the Grand Duchess of Schwerin was the most beloved member of the royal family in Letzen these days.
“Oh my, everyone is so cunning. I don’t know how they can be so cunning.”
Lisa raised her voice and muttered, glancing around. The maids, who had been praising the Grand Duchess with pride, flinched and fell silent.
Satisfied with the effectiveness of the monologue she'd been told to listen to, Lisa decided to back off. While it was annoying how those treacherous mouths had changed their tune overnight, it was a good thing anyway.
Of course, the best course of action would have been to cut them all out, but Erna's decision was different. Although she had rejected him, it stemmed from a lack of understanding of Princess Gladys's situation, and above all, she didn't want to punish those who had served the Prince with such devotion for so many years.
The day she conveyed her intentions to Madame Fitz, Erna wore a remarkably composed and calm expression. Lisa watched her, breathless, for a long time, as if she had finally become the full-fledged mistress of Schwerin Palace. That was why she decided to follow Erna unconditionally.
Even if it was the wrong choice, Erna was right.
From the moment she took Erna's hand when she came to the Hardy mansion to pick her up, Lisa knew this was the truth. She was certain that even as she grew into a white-haired grandmother, her heart would remain unchanged. However, that didn't mean she could display the same embracing spirit as Erna.
If you can't cut it, you win.
Lisa glared at the back of the head of the maid walking ahead with a sharper gaze.
After intensely contemplating how to exact revenge without going against Erna's wishes, Lisa's conclusion was a success. The resolve to climb the ladder of desire and claim that position gradually subsided the anger that had been welling up in her.
When the maid, Karen, felt the stinging glare and turned her head, Lisa quietly averted her gaze. A wild beast on a big hunt naturally hides until the opportune moment arrives.
While she was picturing her rosy future as the Grand Duke's maid, the delegation boarded. Lisa, hastily regaining consciousness, quickly followed Erna. After a brief conversation with the captain, the Grand Duke and his wife stood at the edge of the deck to greet those who had come to see them off.
Erna waved to the onlookers with a bright smile on her face. Occasionally, when she caught her breath, filled with nervousness, the Prince would lean in and whisper in her ear. She couldn't understand what he was saying, but judging by Erna's smile, it seemed safe to assume he was doing a great job as a husband.
This is not a bad start.
Lisa, determined to put her worries aside for now, smiled proudly and swept her overwhelmed heart away. Just then, the Prince turned around, glancing at her as if he'd seen a madman, before leisurely walking away across the deck. But even that ominous glare couldn't erase the smile that graced Lisa's face. The Prince still treated his wife like a fragile treasure.
Lisa followed the Grand Duke and Grand Duchess, her lips twitching. Her gaze, glancing at the Prince's staff, glittering in the sunlight, was confident and relaxed.
Of course, what can I say? Something like that cane.
“Could it be love?”
After much deliberation, Erna came up with a cautious guess.
Bjorn, who had come to sit across the table, answered with a furrowed brow. No way. It wasn't difficult to grasp the meaning of that simple gesture.
“But there’s no other way to explain it.”
While Erna, still unable to let go of her lingering attachment, retorted, the servants, having roughly finished unpacking, withdrew. The noon sunlight streaming into the ship's reception room, now left alone with the two of them, cast a platinum hue, resembling Bjorn's neatly combed hair.
“That boring Crown Prince started this rebellion because of love?”
Bjorn laughed as he closed the lid of the cigar box he had habitually opened.
Last night, Leonid visited Schwerin Palace. It was a sudden, unannounced visit. He said he had come to offer his greetings in advance, as he had been unable to keep his promise to see off the delegation.
Leonid Dneister is crazy.
That was the only conclusion Bjorn could draw after witnessing his sudden arrival and hasty departure. He felt he could now understand the ministers' earnest concern about what had happened to the Crown Prince.
But love?
Bjorn crossed his arms, dismissing the absurd assumption even as he thought about it. He couldn't even imagine that the stone statue would become a fool, consumed by love.
“I don’t know why, but Erna, at least it’s not love.”
Bjorn declared in a calm tone. While he vowed to find out the reason, even through torture, upon returning home, Erna reluctantly agreed and stood up. It seemed she was about to begin the many things she had planned to do when she returned to the cruise ship.
"Then you should get some rest. You were working at the bank until late last night."
Erna, checking her watch, made an unexpected remark. This time, Bjorn, who had been prepared to offer a generous gesture, frowned involuntarily.
"You?"
“I’m planning to attend lunch.”
“Lunch?”
"Yes. The Roscher family was also on board this ship. The Countess invited us to lunch, so we made arrangements in advance."
It was hard to find any trace of regret on Erna's brightly smiling face.
“Oh, that Roscher.”
Bjorn nodded, repeating the familiar name he had heard so many times.
As she gradually became more confident in her role as hostess of Schwerin Palace, Erna gradually expanded her social circle. She was a far cry from the awkward country bumpkin she had always been, always cowering in fear, always relying on memorized etiquette books from the last century. While this introverted lady didn't become a society queen overnight, it was certainly a remarkable achievement. Clara Roscher, her closest friend these days, was the mistress of a prestigious family with a reputation that even the demanding Madame Fitz was pleased with.
“I’ll be back.”
Erna waved a small greeting and hurried out of the cabin. She looked like a child about to embark on a long-awaited picnic.
As the living room door closed, Bjorn finally took off his jacket. He lay down lazily on the sofa, a soft laugh erupting from his lips. The unexpected situation was a bit absurd, but it was a sweet respite, so that was all that mattered.
Concluding that this was the beginning of a pretty good trip, Bjorn closed his eyes.
It definitely was.
Erna no longer relied on her husband as she had before, and thanks to this, Bjorn was able to focus solely on his work and enjoy a leisurely voyage. Sometimes, it even felt like a dull moment. Like today.
“What about Erna?”
After finishing his meeting with the delegation, Bjorn returned and entered the cabin, asking his usual question.
“Her Highness is in the bedroom.”
The maid, catching her breath, hurriedly spoke. The unexpected answer made Bjorn pause. Roscher. Just not hearing that name, which was starting to irritate him, made his day at sea feel twice as beautiful.
Bjorn walked toward Erna's bedroom with a much more refreshed gait. There was still an hour or so left before the gentlemen's meeting where they were to introduce the Pelia businessman aboard the ship. So, he could afford at least a leisurely stroll around the deck with his wife. And it wouldn't hurt to devote himself to something a little more enjoyable.
“Bjorn!”
After a polite knock, he opened the door and heard a welcoming voice. Erna was sitting at her vanity, looking freshly dressed.
As the maids, who had been observing her, retreated, Bjorn strode briskly across the bedroom and approached his wife. The extravagant evening dress, which exposed half of her chest and shoulders, was clearly far from Erna's taste.
Bjorn, who had been carefully examining the transparent white chest and nape of the neck, faced Erna with silent eyes.
“How is it? It’s a dress made according to the latest fashion. Is it okay?”
Erna's cheeks, as she hesitantly asked, were a peach-red, like the frills on her dress. Bjorn nodded without much hesitation. It wasn't exactly a popular trend, but her style was still beautiful.
“Are you going to the party?”
Bjorn glanced down and examined the ornate necklace hanging around Erna's slender neck. It was a blue diamond pendant. It was the very same gem he had given his wife on her first birthday.
“Yes, that’s what happened.”
Erna nodded with a bright smile. The ornaments hanging from her braided hair shone delicately to the rhythm.
“I don’t think I’ve heard of this.”
After briefly glancing at Lisa, who was waiting quietly, Bjorn's gaze turned back to his wife's eyes.
"I received an invitation unexpectedly. Since you're busy, I replied that I would attend alone."
“Countess Roscher?”
"No. The host of this party is Mr. Winfield. The gentleman I met on deck a few days ago."
Erna explained in detail why she had to attend an unscheduled party.
A party on board a ship hosted by a New World family with ties to the Roschers. Their wish was to invite the royal family of Letzen to their table. The meddlesome Countess and the fickle Grand Duchess delivered their request on their behalf. As the tedious conversation drew to a close, the clock struck six o'clock.
“I have to go now.”
Erna sat up, startled. As she reached out to pick up the lace shawl lying on the stool, the gatekeeper of hell quickly approached and slammed her down.
“No, Your Highness! How dare you cover up such a pretty dress?”
As Lisa swore, the maids who followed chimed in, one by one. It was like a flock of little birds chirping together.
Bjorn watched the commotion from a distance. If that's the trend, then there's nothing he can't tolerate. However, it felt like there were more things to cut.
“I’ll be back, Bjorn!”
Erna, again, waved her hand like a flower petal and left. Bjorn, left behind with the lace shawl she hadn't been able to pack, pecked his lips, and a hollow laugh escaped his lips.
Well, it wasn't all bad.
Having reached a clear conclusion, Bjorn left his wife's bedroom. He went out onto the deck attached to the cabin and smoked a cigar as the sky across the sea turned a rosy hue.
“Winfield.”
Bjorn suddenly remembered the name and let it flow into the cigar smoke.
The middle-aged businessman was a respectable man, but when he greeted Erna, he looked like a young, inexperienced boy. "You're truly beautiful," he said, his face flushed red, his voice stammering, his words abruptly lost. The compliment didn't sound like a formal greeting.
Somehow, he felt dirty even though he couldn't remember it properly.
Bjorn tossed his half-smoked cigar into the ashtray and turned away. A servant arrived just in time to remind him that it was time to prepare for the meeting.
Bjorn nodded readily and took a step forward.
The port of Schwerin was busier than usual on the day the cruise ship departed. Crowds flocked to see the Grand Duke and his wife on their tour.
The commotion over the front row seats finally subsided when the Grand Duke's carriage appeared. As the guards in full uniforms maintained order, the door of the carriage, adorned with the Grand Duke's crest, opened. "Wow!" A deafening roar of cheers instantly filled the harbor.
Lisa looked at the Grand Duchess with pride. Erna, in her new, pale pink spring dress, was truly dazzlingly beautiful. No matter what anyone said, to Lisa, it was.
This lady is Lisa Brill's masterpiece.
Lisa, desperately suppressing the urge to shout out loud to the world, followed the Grand Duchess and her husband at a brisk pace. Everyone cheered with such fervor. It seemed as if the days of being unable to slap the Grand Duchess were completely forgotten. It wouldn't be an exaggeration to say that the Grand Duchess of Schwerin was the most beloved member of the royal family in Letzen these days.
“Oh my, everyone is so cunning. I don’t know how they can be so cunning.”
Lisa raised her voice and muttered, glancing around. The maids, who had been praising the Grand Duchess with pride, flinched and fell silent.
Satisfied with the effectiveness of the monologue she'd been told to listen to, Lisa decided to back off. While it was annoying how those treacherous mouths had changed their tune overnight, it was a good thing anyway.
Of course, the best course of action would have been to cut them all out, but Erna's decision was different. Although she had rejected him, it stemmed from a lack of understanding of Princess Gladys's situation, and above all, she didn't want to punish those who had served the Prince with such devotion for so many years.
The day she conveyed her intentions to Madame Fitz, Erna wore a remarkably composed and calm expression. Lisa watched her, breathless, for a long time, as if she had finally become the full-fledged mistress of Schwerin Palace. That was why she decided to follow Erna unconditionally.
Even if it was the wrong choice, Erna was right.
From the moment she took Erna's hand when she came to the Hardy mansion to pick her up, Lisa knew this was the truth. She was certain that even as she grew into a white-haired grandmother, her heart would remain unchanged. However, that didn't mean she could display the same embracing spirit as Erna.
If you can't cut it, you win.
Lisa glared at the back of the head of the maid walking ahead with a sharper gaze.
After intensely contemplating how to exact revenge without going against Erna's wishes, Lisa's conclusion was a success. The resolve to climb the ladder of desire and claim that position gradually subsided the anger that had been welling up in her.
When the maid, Karen, felt the stinging glare and turned her head, Lisa quietly averted her gaze. A wild beast on a big hunt naturally hides until the opportune moment arrives.
While she was picturing her rosy future as the Grand Duke's maid, the delegation boarded. Lisa, hastily regaining consciousness, quickly followed Erna. After a brief conversation with the captain, the Grand Duke and his wife stood at the edge of the deck to greet those who had come to see them off.
Erna waved to the onlookers with a bright smile on her face. Occasionally, when she caught her breath, filled with nervousness, the Prince would lean in and whisper in her ear. She couldn't understand what he was saying, but judging by Erna's smile, it seemed safe to assume he was doing a great job as a husband.
This is not a bad start.
Lisa, determined to put her worries aside for now, smiled proudly and swept her overwhelmed heart away. Just then, the Prince turned around, glancing at her as if he'd seen a madman, before leisurely walking away across the deck. But even that ominous glare couldn't erase the smile that graced Lisa's face. The Prince still treated his wife like a fragile treasure.
Lisa followed the Grand Duke and Grand Duchess, her lips twitching. Her gaze, glancing at the Prince's staff, glittering in the sunlight, was confident and relaxed.
Of course, what can I say? Something like that cane.
***
“Could it be love?”
After much deliberation, Erna came up with a cautious guess.
Bjorn, who had come to sit across the table, answered with a furrowed brow. No way. It wasn't difficult to grasp the meaning of that simple gesture.
“But there’s no other way to explain it.”
While Erna, still unable to let go of her lingering attachment, retorted, the servants, having roughly finished unpacking, withdrew. The noon sunlight streaming into the ship's reception room, now left alone with the two of them, cast a platinum hue, resembling Bjorn's neatly combed hair.
“That boring Crown Prince started this rebellion because of love?”
Bjorn laughed as he closed the lid of the cigar box he had habitually opened.
Last night, Leonid visited Schwerin Palace. It was a sudden, unannounced visit. He said he had come to offer his greetings in advance, as he had been unable to keep his promise to see off the delegation.
Leonid Dneister is crazy.
That was the only conclusion Bjorn could draw after witnessing his sudden arrival and hasty departure. He felt he could now understand the ministers' earnest concern about what had happened to the Crown Prince.
But love?
Bjorn crossed his arms, dismissing the absurd assumption even as he thought about it. He couldn't even imagine that the stone statue would become a fool, consumed by love.
“I don’t know why, but Erna, at least it’s not love.”
Bjorn declared in a calm tone. While he vowed to find out the reason, even through torture, upon returning home, Erna reluctantly agreed and stood up. It seemed she was about to begin the many things she had planned to do when she returned to the cruise ship.
"Then you should get some rest. You were working at the bank until late last night."
Erna, checking her watch, made an unexpected remark. This time, Bjorn, who had been prepared to offer a generous gesture, frowned involuntarily.
"You?"
“I’m planning to attend lunch.”
“Lunch?”
"Yes. The Roscher family was also on board this ship. The Countess invited us to lunch, so we made arrangements in advance."
It was hard to find any trace of regret on Erna's brightly smiling face.
“Oh, that Roscher.”
Bjorn nodded, repeating the familiar name he had heard so many times.
As she gradually became more confident in her role as hostess of Schwerin Palace, Erna gradually expanded her social circle. She was a far cry from the awkward country bumpkin she had always been, always cowering in fear, always relying on memorized etiquette books from the last century. While this introverted lady didn't become a society queen overnight, it was certainly a remarkable achievement. Clara Roscher, her closest friend these days, was the mistress of a prestigious family with a reputation that even the demanding Madame Fitz was pleased with.
“I’ll be back.”
Erna waved a small greeting and hurried out of the cabin. She looked like a child about to embark on a long-awaited picnic.
As the living room door closed, Bjorn finally took off his jacket. He lay down lazily on the sofa, a soft laugh erupting from his lips. The unexpected situation was a bit absurd, but it was a sweet respite, so that was all that mattered.
Concluding that this was the beginning of a pretty good trip, Bjorn closed his eyes.
***
It definitely was.
Erna no longer relied on her husband as she had before, and thanks to this, Bjorn was able to focus solely on his work and enjoy a leisurely voyage. Sometimes, it even felt like a dull moment. Like today.
“What about Erna?”
After finishing his meeting with the delegation, Bjorn returned and entered the cabin, asking his usual question.
“Her Highness is in the bedroom.”
The maid, catching her breath, hurriedly spoke. The unexpected answer made Bjorn pause. Roscher. Just not hearing that name, which was starting to irritate him, made his day at sea feel twice as beautiful.
Bjorn walked toward Erna's bedroom with a much more refreshed gait. There was still an hour or so left before the gentlemen's meeting where they were to introduce the Pelia businessman aboard the ship. So, he could afford at least a leisurely stroll around the deck with his wife. And it wouldn't hurt to devote himself to something a little more enjoyable.
“Bjorn!”
After a polite knock, he opened the door and heard a welcoming voice. Erna was sitting at her vanity, looking freshly dressed.
As the maids, who had been observing her, retreated, Bjorn strode briskly across the bedroom and approached his wife. The extravagant evening dress, which exposed half of her chest and shoulders, was clearly far from Erna's taste.
Bjorn, who had been carefully examining the transparent white chest and nape of the neck, faced Erna with silent eyes.
“How is it? It’s a dress made according to the latest fashion. Is it okay?”
Erna's cheeks, as she hesitantly asked, were a peach-red, like the frills on her dress. Bjorn nodded without much hesitation. It wasn't exactly a popular trend, but her style was still beautiful.
“Are you going to the party?”
Bjorn glanced down and examined the ornate necklace hanging around Erna's slender neck. It was a blue diamond pendant. It was the very same gem he had given his wife on her first birthday.
“Yes, that’s what happened.”
Erna nodded with a bright smile. The ornaments hanging from her braided hair shone delicately to the rhythm.
“I don’t think I’ve heard of this.”
After briefly glancing at Lisa, who was waiting quietly, Bjorn's gaze turned back to his wife's eyes.
"I received an invitation unexpectedly. Since you're busy, I replied that I would attend alone."
“Countess Roscher?”
"No. The host of this party is Mr. Winfield. The gentleman I met on deck a few days ago."
Erna explained in detail why she had to attend an unscheduled party.
A party on board a ship hosted by a New World family with ties to the Roschers. Their wish was to invite the royal family of Letzen to their table. The meddlesome Countess and the fickle Grand Duchess delivered their request on their behalf. As the tedious conversation drew to a close, the clock struck six o'clock.
“I have to go now.”
Erna sat up, startled. As she reached out to pick up the lace shawl lying on the stool, the gatekeeper of hell quickly approached and slammed her down.
“No, Your Highness! How dare you cover up such a pretty dress?”
As Lisa swore, the maids who followed chimed in, one by one. It was like a flock of little birds chirping together.
Bjorn watched the commotion from a distance. If that's the trend, then there's nothing he can't tolerate. However, it felt like there were more things to cut.
“I’ll be back, Bjorn!”
Erna, again, waved her hand like a flower petal and left. Bjorn, left behind with the lace shawl she hadn't been able to pack, pecked his lips, and a hollow laugh escaped his lips.
Well, it wasn't all bad.
Having reached a clear conclusion, Bjorn left his wife's bedroom. He went out onto the deck attached to the cabin and smoked a cigar as the sky across the sea turned a rosy hue.
“Winfield.”
Bjorn suddenly remembered the name and let it flow into the cigar smoke.
The middle-aged businessman was a respectable man, but when he greeted Erna, he looked like a young, inexperienced boy. "You're truly beautiful," he said, his face flushed red, his voice stammering, his words abruptly lost. The compliment didn't sound like a formal greeting.
Somehow, he felt dirty even though he couldn't remember it properly.
Bjorn tossed his half-smoked cigar into the ashtray and turned away. A servant arrived just in time to remind him that it was time to prepare for the meeting.
Bjorn nodded readily and took a step forward.
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