Side Story 8. It Was Spring All Around
They walked together.
Without any servants following behind, just the two of them.
The anxiety and nervousness stemming from the guilt of committing a sin she shouldn't have committed gradually faded as she moved further from the palace she sneaked out of. As they approached the city center, where the festive atmosphere was in full swing, her heart began to pound with overwhelming anticipation.
It was spring all around.
Orange-tree-lined streets, flowerbeds overflowing with tropical flowers, even walls draped with vines—the landscape seemed endless, awash in bloom. The travel guide's description of Lorca's capital as a city of flowers in spring proved perfectly accurate.
She walked down the street that spring.
The presence of the two men was not particularly noticeable due to the large number of foreign tourists who had come to witness Lorca's spring festival, which coincided with the King's fiftieth anniversary of his accession to the throne. This fact dispelled Erna's last hesitation.
She browsed shops filled with colorful carpets and lamps. She had a delicious lunch and sipped a hot, sweet, minty tea. She also strolled down alleyways lined with carefully tended flower pots and beautifully tiled houses.
Holding Bjorn's hand, together with Bjorn.
Sometimes, when she couldn't believe it, she would raise her head and look at him quietly.
Let's keep within the appropriate limits, persuading ourselves.
But I also ask myself, where is the appropriate line for this love?
The clearly defined standards and rules kept becoming blurred, perhaps because she was intoxicated by the sweet fragrance of a foreign spring.
“Shall we take a break?”
A cool, soft voice descended upon Erna, who was caressing her flushed cheek.
It's okay.
Erna nodded slightly, swallowing the words she almost blurted out. The spring sun here, hotter than Letzen's summer, was becoming increasingly difficult to bear.
After carefully surveying the surroundings, Bjorn escorted Erna to the park across the street. Many travelers were there, resting and chatting under the shade of orange trees.
“Hey, Bjöon.”
Erna, standing in front of the bench, hesitantly called out his name. Bjorn glanced at his wife's gaze, his eyes narrowing.
A young couple, about their age, had just arrived at the bench across from the fountain. The husband, whose face clearly had a few loose screws, spread out his handkerchief on the bench. The wife sat down, trembling.
Bjorn, who had been hurling insults at the snarky, squealing idiot, chuckled and pulled a handkerchief from the pocket of his jacket. The smile that flashed across Erna's face at that moment was so radiant. It was as if she possessed the entire world.
Feeling a little defenseless, Bjorn let out a laugh, unfolding his handkerchief with a gesture as polite as any fool in the park. Erna landed lightly, like a flower petal fluttering in the wind. Seeing her upright posture, hands resting on her knees, and her old-fashioned posture, a bitter laugh escaped his lips again.
“Please sit comfortably.”
“I’m comfortable enough.”
Bjorn, who had been staring blankly down at the sly young lady who was so good at lying, nodded at that point. He felt the urge to take off her stuffy hat and gloves, but he knew he'd be acting like a naked woman, so he decided to hold back.
The two sat side by side on a tiled bench, gazing at the fountain. As they bask in the shade and the breeze, the stinging heat of the sun gradually subsides. Erna's flushed cheeks and neck soon calmed down.
“Bjorn, what is that?”
Erna's curious gaze turned to a building standing at the back of the park. It seemed to be the bell tower of a temple.
“I see a lot of people here, so I guess we can go up there too?”
“Come up?”
When he asked, Erna looked deeply thoughtful, as if she was thinking about something again.
He seems to be asking a question with a kind face, but if you look closely, it's actually an order.
The scariest thing about this woman, who was becoming more and more sly by the day, was that she didn't even realize it herself. But he didn't find this tactic so unpleasant. Everything was fine, everything was fine. It was a lot better than when he just endured it.
Bjorn slowly rose from his seat and stood before Erna. The innocent enchantress's eyes sparkled with cautious anticipation.
“Yes, let’s go.”
The shadow of sunlight passing through the leaves slowly swayed on Bjorn's outstretched hand.
“Are you sure it’s okay?”
It was clear that her mind was already at the top of the tower, but Erna asked another question.
“I’ve done what I wanted to do so far, so if there’s something you want to do, I’m happy to do it together now.”
“Do as you wish.”
Bjorn wiggled his fingers as if urging him on.
“Anyway, I can’t do what I want to do here.”
It was a largely sincere answer, and Erna burst into a heartfelt laugh, as if she'd heard a funny joke. It was a beautiful laugh, enough to make her want to be a loose-knit fool once more.
The world is wide, and there are many perverts.
Climbing Lorca's bell tower, Bjorn realized this fact anew.
Build a tower high in the sky and climb it.
It was astonishing how, despite their differing beliefs in gods, the actions of the perverts of this world were remarkably similar. Of course, the most extreme perverts were those who climbed this tower without any love for God. For example, the Grand Duke and Grand Duchess of Schwerin and Letzen.
“If you’re tired, take a rest.”
Bjorn glanced at Erna, his brow furrowing. With a flushed face and gasping for breath, Erna stubbornly shook her head.
“It’s almost time.”
"So?"
“You have to go up quickly to hear the bell.”
For some absurd reason, Erna's eyes remained serious.
Bjorn sighed lightly and assessed the remaining height. Alone, he could have jumped up quickly, but if he tried to keep up with Erna's pace, he'd miss the mark. If that happened, the stubborn lady would have to wait patiently for the next bell, a prospect he wasn't particularly pleased with.
After a brief moment of reflection, Bjorn silently lifted his wife into his arms. Erna's startled scream echoed through the narrow passageway of the bell tower.
“Don’t do this! If people see...”
“Listen carefully, Erna.”
Bjorn, cutting off his wife's words, began to climb the worn stone steps with brisk strides. Erna, terrified, stopped resisting and clung to him with her whole body. It wasn't a bad feeling.
"I have absolutely no intention of being trapped in this perverted bell tower for an hour. You must hear the bells ringing the hour. So, isn't this the best we can do?"
Bjorn, who had been taking deep, heavy breaths, suddenly lowered his gaze.
Lorca's spring resembled a fragrant liquor, Erna thought absentmindedly, gazing at the face she had been forced to confront without a moment to spare. She knew she would surely suffer terrible aftereffects upon waking, yet her foolish heart kept filling and refilling the empty cup.
When will I ever become wise?
Erna swallowed her self-deprecating question and squeezed her eyes shut. She knew it was foolish, but it was hard to see what else she could do.
Giggling softly, Bjorn began to climb the stairs even faster. Just as his increasingly ragged breath began to carry a hot heat, light streaming in from the bell tower's exit touched his head.
Bjorn quickly climbed the remaining stairs and stepped out of the bell tower. Erna, waking up to the cool breeze, smiled and let out a gasp of joy.
Crazy kid.
Bjorn let go of Erna, who was holding him, with a laugh mixed with sweet helplessness. Erna quickly adjusted her clothes and walked briskly toward the observation deck.
Bjorn slowly took a deep breath, gazing at his wife's exhilarated back. Her platinum hair, tousled by the wind, swayed gently across her forehead, where sweat was cooling.
“Bjorn! Over here! Quick!”
Erna, who was circling the observation deck and admiring the city view, sent an urgent wave.
Bjorn loosened the knot on his tie and approached his wife. He lowered his gaze down the bell tower Erna had pointed to, revealing the orange trees lining the temple courtyard. Lorca was clearly obsessed with oranges.
“It looks like it’s snowing.”
Erna, who had been gazing down at the orange tree covered in white blossoms for a long time, whispered softly. Her voice reminded him of last winter, when they had watched the melting snowman together.
Bjorn looked into the distance without saying a word.
A city lined with white houses with orange tiles, a palace beyond, and a cloudless sky. Bjorn's gaze, slowly wandering through this peaceful and beautiful landscape, finally rested on Erna's hand, which was gripping the railing of the observation deck.
Bjorn gently held the small hand wrapped in a translucent lace glove. Then, Erna turned her head and faced him, and the bells began to strike the hour.
The two looked at each other blankly, listening to the sound of bells spreading across the city, intoxicated by spring.
Instead of saying he understood, Bjorn tightened his grip on the hand he was holding.
He unhesitatingly poured his heart into the woman he loved, deeply wounding her. Yet, he couldn't let go, and miraculously, he recovered. Therefore, Bjorn knew full well that the hesitation and fear that lingered in Erna's heart as she faced love again were his to bear. Of course, there would be moments when he would feel helpless and impatient.
“Bjorn.”
Erna slowly turned around to face him.
“You can kiss me.”
Erna, who had been looking at him with deep, calm eyes, suddenly blurted out something unexpected.
“I will allow it.”
There was a faint hint of humor in the words she added, as if out of kindness. Bjorn, who had been staring intently at his wife, simply laughed weakly.
“Will this bell tower also grant love?”
“Well, I’m not sure about that, but...”
Erna's gaze, which had drifted away along the orange-scented wind, soon turned back to Bjorn.
“I wish that were the case.”
The moment that sweet, shy voice whispered to his ear, Bjorn was certain. Indeed, this deer was a beast.
Bjorn willingly submitted to the command, cupping Erna's face and slowly lowering his lips. His lips gently brushed her forehead and nose, then touched her trembling lips. Erna sighed softly and closed her eyes.
As the tender and gentle kiss continued, the bell rang again, clear and bless this city intoxicated by spring.
They walked together.
Without any servants following behind, just the two of them.
The anxiety and nervousness stemming from the guilt of committing a sin she shouldn't have committed gradually faded as she moved further from the palace she sneaked out of. As they approached the city center, where the festive atmosphere was in full swing, her heart began to pound with overwhelming anticipation.
It was spring all around.
Orange-tree-lined streets, flowerbeds overflowing with tropical flowers, even walls draped with vines—the landscape seemed endless, awash in bloom. The travel guide's description of Lorca's capital as a city of flowers in spring proved perfectly accurate.
She walked down the street that spring.
The presence of the two men was not particularly noticeable due to the large number of foreign tourists who had come to witness Lorca's spring festival, which coincided with the King's fiftieth anniversary of his accession to the throne. This fact dispelled Erna's last hesitation.
She browsed shops filled with colorful carpets and lamps. She had a delicious lunch and sipped a hot, sweet, minty tea. She also strolled down alleyways lined with carefully tended flower pots and beautifully tiled houses.
Holding Bjorn's hand, together with Bjorn.
Sometimes, when she couldn't believe it, she would raise her head and look at him quietly.
Let's keep within the appropriate limits, persuading ourselves.
But I also ask myself, where is the appropriate line for this love?
The clearly defined standards and rules kept becoming blurred, perhaps because she was intoxicated by the sweet fragrance of a foreign spring.
“Shall we take a break?”
A cool, soft voice descended upon Erna, who was caressing her flushed cheek.
It's okay.
Erna nodded slightly, swallowing the words she almost blurted out. The spring sun here, hotter than Letzen's summer, was becoming increasingly difficult to bear.
After carefully surveying the surroundings, Bjorn escorted Erna to the park across the street. Many travelers were there, resting and chatting under the shade of orange trees.
“Hey, Bjöon.”
Erna, standing in front of the bench, hesitantly called out his name. Bjorn glanced at his wife's gaze, his eyes narrowing.
A young couple, about their age, had just arrived at the bench across from the fountain. The husband, whose face clearly had a few loose screws, spread out his handkerchief on the bench. The wife sat down, trembling.
Bjorn, who had been hurling insults at the snarky, squealing idiot, chuckled and pulled a handkerchief from the pocket of his jacket. The smile that flashed across Erna's face at that moment was so radiant. It was as if she possessed the entire world.
Feeling a little defenseless, Bjorn let out a laugh, unfolding his handkerchief with a gesture as polite as any fool in the park. Erna landed lightly, like a flower petal fluttering in the wind. Seeing her upright posture, hands resting on her knees, and her old-fashioned posture, a bitter laugh escaped his lips again.
“Please sit comfortably.”
“I’m comfortable enough.”
Bjorn, who had been staring blankly down at the sly young lady who was so good at lying, nodded at that point. He felt the urge to take off her stuffy hat and gloves, but he knew he'd be acting like a naked woman, so he decided to hold back.
The two sat side by side on a tiled bench, gazing at the fountain. As they bask in the shade and the breeze, the stinging heat of the sun gradually subsides. Erna's flushed cheeks and neck soon calmed down.
“Bjorn, what is that?”
Erna's curious gaze turned to a building standing at the back of the park. It seemed to be the bell tower of a temple.
“I see a lot of people here, so I guess we can go up there too?”
“Come up?”
When he asked, Erna looked deeply thoughtful, as if she was thinking about something again.
He seems to be asking a question with a kind face, but if you look closely, it's actually an order.
The scariest thing about this woman, who was becoming more and more sly by the day, was that she didn't even realize it herself. But he didn't find this tactic so unpleasant. Everything was fine, everything was fine. It was a lot better than when he just endured it.
Bjorn slowly rose from his seat and stood before Erna. The innocent enchantress's eyes sparkled with cautious anticipation.
“Yes, let’s go.”
The shadow of sunlight passing through the leaves slowly swayed on Bjorn's outstretched hand.
“Are you sure it’s okay?”
It was clear that her mind was already at the top of the tower, but Erna asked another question.
“I’ve done what I wanted to do so far, so if there’s something you want to do, I’m happy to do it together now.”
“Do as you wish.”
Bjorn wiggled his fingers as if urging him on.
“Anyway, I can’t do what I want to do here.”
It was a largely sincere answer, and Erna burst into a heartfelt laugh, as if she'd heard a funny joke. It was a beautiful laugh, enough to make her want to be a loose-knit fool once more.
***
The world is wide, and there are many perverts.
Climbing Lorca's bell tower, Bjorn realized this fact anew.
Build a tower high in the sky and climb it.
It was astonishing how, despite their differing beliefs in gods, the actions of the perverts of this world were remarkably similar. Of course, the most extreme perverts were those who climbed this tower without any love for God. For example, the Grand Duke and Grand Duchess of Schwerin and Letzen.
“If you’re tired, take a rest.”
Bjorn glanced at Erna, his brow furrowing. With a flushed face and gasping for breath, Erna stubbornly shook her head.
“It’s almost time.”
"So?"
“You have to go up quickly to hear the bell.”
For some absurd reason, Erna's eyes remained serious.
Bjorn sighed lightly and assessed the remaining height. Alone, he could have jumped up quickly, but if he tried to keep up with Erna's pace, he'd miss the mark. If that happened, the stubborn lady would have to wait patiently for the next bell, a prospect he wasn't particularly pleased with.
After a brief moment of reflection, Bjorn silently lifted his wife into his arms. Erna's startled scream echoed through the narrow passageway of the bell tower.
“Don’t do this! If people see...”
“Listen carefully, Erna.”
Bjorn, cutting off his wife's words, began to climb the worn stone steps with brisk strides. Erna, terrified, stopped resisting and clung to him with her whole body. It wasn't a bad feeling.
"I have absolutely no intention of being trapped in this perverted bell tower for an hour. You must hear the bells ringing the hour. So, isn't this the best we can do?"
Bjorn, who had been taking deep, heavy breaths, suddenly lowered his gaze.
Lorca's spring resembled a fragrant liquor, Erna thought absentmindedly, gazing at the face she had been forced to confront without a moment to spare. She knew she would surely suffer terrible aftereffects upon waking, yet her foolish heart kept filling and refilling the empty cup.
When will I ever become wise?
Erna swallowed her self-deprecating question and squeezed her eyes shut. She knew it was foolish, but it was hard to see what else she could do.
Giggling softly, Bjorn began to climb the stairs even faster. Just as his increasingly ragged breath began to carry a hot heat, light streaming in from the bell tower's exit touched his head.
Bjorn quickly climbed the remaining stairs and stepped out of the bell tower. Erna, waking up to the cool breeze, smiled and let out a gasp of joy.
Crazy kid.
Bjorn let go of Erna, who was holding him, with a laugh mixed with sweet helplessness. Erna quickly adjusted her clothes and walked briskly toward the observation deck.
Bjorn slowly took a deep breath, gazing at his wife's exhilarated back. Her platinum hair, tousled by the wind, swayed gently across her forehead, where sweat was cooling.
“Bjorn! Over here! Quick!”
Erna, who was circling the observation deck and admiring the city view, sent an urgent wave.
Bjorn loosened the knot on his tie and approached his wife. He lowered his gaze down the bell tower Erna had pointed to, revealing the orange trees lining the temple courtyard. Lorca was clearly obsessed with oranges.
“It looks like it’s snowing.”
Erna, who had been gazing down at the orange tree covered in white blossoms for a long time, whispered softly. Her voice reminded him of last winter, when they had watched the melting snowman together.
Bjorn looked into the distance without saying a word.
A city lined with white houses with orange tiles, a palace beyond, and a cloudless sky. Bjorn's gaze, slowly wandering through this peaceful and beautiful landscape, finally rested on Erna's hand, which was gripping the railing of the observation deck.
Bjorn gently held the small hand wrapped in a translucent lace glove. Then, Erna turned her head and faced him, and the bells began to strike the hour.
The two looked at each other blankly, listening to the sound of bells spreading across the city, intoxicated by spring.
Instead of saying he understood, Bjorn tightened his grip on the hand he was holding.
He unhesitatingly poured his heart into the woman he loved, deeply wounding her. Yet, he couldn't let go, and miraculously, he recovered. Therefore, Bjorn knew full well that the hesitation and fear that lingered in Erna's heart as she faced love again were his to bear. Of course, there would be moments when he would feel helpless and impatient.
“Bjorn.”
Erna slowly turned around to face him.
“You can kiss me.”
Erna, who had been looking at him with deep, calm eyes, suddenly blurted out something unexpected.
“I will allow it.”
There was a faint hint of humor in the words she added, as if out of kindness. Bjorn, who had been staring intently at his wife, simply laughed weakly.
“Will this bell tower also grant love?”
“Well, I’m not sure about that, but...”
Erna's gaze, which had drifted away along the orange-scented wind, soon turned back to Bjorn.
“I wish that were the case.”
The moment that sweet, shy voice whispered to his ear, Bjorn was certain. Indeed, this deer was a beast.
Bjorn willingly submitted to the command, cupping Erna's face and slowly lowering his lips. His lips gently brushed her forehead and nose, then touched her trembling lips. Erna sighed softly and closed her eyes.
As the tender and gentle kiss continued, the bell rang again, clear and bless this city intoxicated by spring.
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