Side Story 12. The Pretty New Cookie Jar
Since that day, lights have often burst forth in beautiful landscapes. And each time, the colors they remember emerge.
An emerald sea. A red city in the desert. A festival where colorful roses sway.
Erna sorted through the photos spread out across her desk with the aforementioned expression on her face.
She wanted to frame and display all the photos, but that felt like overkill, so she painstakingly chose a few. After much deliberation, she decided to leave out her favorite photo. She wanted to keep that one as a personal treasure. Of course, it was also a decision made with consideration and concern for the dignity and pride of the Grand Duke of Schwerin.
Erna took a sip of her cooled tea and sat up straight, facing the framed photo of her favorite moment. It was a photo taken with Bjorn under an orange tree on the morning of the fiftieth anniversary of King Lorca's coronation.
Erna, standing on tiptoe, beamed at the camera, while Bjorn smiled faintly at her. Her impeccably formal attire accentuated her impertinent posture and expression.
Erna stared at the photo for a long time, feeling the wind and sunlight of that day, the sweet scent of oranges wafting to her nostrils. Just that, her heart pounded. It felt as if this was a landscape documenting his love.
Erna stood up, holding the photo, so precious and intimate she didn't want anyone to see. An involuntary smile escaped her lips as she stood before the large cookie tin next to her desk.
'The monster has made a friend.'
Mrs. Fitz defined the cookie jar with one word: a euphemism for something as unsightly as a statue of an elephant.
Although it was a gift she'd requested, Erna was speechless the first time she saw the cookie tin. Bjorn had brought a huge tin box, too large to be called a cookie tin; it was more like a cookie box. The cookie tin was painted with colorful flowers, making it even more impressive.
'It's big.'
Erna, who had been staring at her husband's gift for a long time, spoke absentmindedly. That was the only comment she could make about the cookie tin, which looked like it could fit inside if she crouched down.
'It's really big.'
Erna, who had been expressing her sincere admiration, finally broke into a childish laugh. It was a very large box, and she felt it could fill it with so much happiness. Erna actually thought the new cookie tin was very pretty, but she decided not to express her opinion, as it seemed like a rather subjective assessment.
The cookie tin, custom-made by the Prince, was filled with enough cookies to share with the entire Schwerin Palace. Though she considered them the most delicious cookies in the world, Erna decided to keep them for herself.
It was early spring, when lingering snow still lingered in the palace gardens. And in the summer, the cookie jar, filled with memories of the previous spring, stood firm in a corner of the Grand Duchess's bedroom.
Erna gently placed the picture frame containing the landscape of love into the cookie jar. As she gazed at the mementos of her past travels, her heart swelled like freshly baked bread.
“Your Highness, this is Mrs. Fitz.”
Mrs. Fitz's polite voice woke Erna from her immersive thoughts.
“Yes! Come in!”
Erna quickly closed the lid of the cookie jar and straightened her posture. Mrs. Fitz quietly opened the door and entered, paying her respects with a polite nod.
Sitting across from each other at a table by the window, where the breeze from the River Abbey blew in, the two discussed the social events scheduled for Schwerin Palace this summer: balls, picnics, and even a rowing competition and a summer festival to be held on the palace grounds next month. Despite the packed schedule, Erna was quite enthusiastic.
“The trophy has a new ribbon.”
A faint smile appeared on Mrs. Fitz's lips as she happened to glance at the trophy on the console. This summer, the ribbon on the antlers was blue. It was a beautiful color, resembling the shy, smiling eyes of her hostess.
Mrs. Fitz looked around the room with a much softer gaze. Despite the new decorations, the Grand Duchess's eccentric tastes still lingered here and there. A ribboned antler trophy, a typewriter. A sculpture of an elephant. Now, even that flowered tin box.
Interior decorator Lorenz Dix was desperate to get rid of the aesthetically disturbing objects, but Erna persisted. Knowing how much she cherished her husband's gifts, she subtly sided with the Grand Duchess. Though monstrous, the Grand Duchess and her husband's affections within them were truly endearing.
“You have to meet the architect in 30 minutes. Get ready.”
Mrs. Fitz, her face regaining its usual calm, reported her hostess's next plans. It was yet another gift from the Prince, one that left everyone stunned.
The Prince left work earlier than scheduled.
As the servants who had rushed in after hearing the news lined up, a carriage with a flashing golden wolf emblem stopped in front of the Grand Duke's residence.
“Her Highness is in thedrawing room. She is talking to Mr. Emil Wasser.”
Mrs. Fitz greeted the Prince with a polite greeting and began by conveying the most important matter. Bjorn, who was inspecting the entrance, raised his eyebrows in question.
“Wasser?”
“He is the architect who designed the greenhouse that the Prince telegraphed here during his visit to Lorca.”
Mrs. Fitz sighed quietly and added her explanation. Only then did Bjorn nod dryly and smile.
Bjorn, holding his cane firmly in his hand, strode across the lobby hall and up the stairs. As everyone expected, his destination was the reception room, where the Grand Duchess was.
“Wow, Prince!”
The door opened with a soft knock, and the startled architect jumped to his feet. Erna, who had been sitting with her back turned to the door, belatedly noticed Bjorn's appearance.
Bjorn nodded in response to the architect's greeting and sat down next to his wife. Several greenhouse plans lay spread out on the reception table. It seemed she hadn't yet made a final decision.
“I wanted to ask your opinion anyway.”
Erna greeted him with a smile.
“It is my wife's, so do as you will.”
After briefly glancing at the blueprints covering the table, Bjorn unbuttoned his gloves and offered a cool reply. Erna, who seemed unsatisfied with the answer, stared at him, her eyes narrowing.
“But Bjorn, this is Schwerin Castle.”
Erna straightened her posture and smiled gently. Bjorn now knew from experience that this woman was at her most stubborn when she wore this expression.
"First of all, these are the two I like the most, but I've been hesitating because it's hard to choose between them. I think it would be helpful if you could take a look."
Erna lifted two blueprints from the center of the table and held them out to Bjorn. Bjorn, impressed by his wife's growing skill at giving orders, feigned defeat and accepted them.
“Which construction cost is higher?”
Bjorn, who had been examining the blueprints dryly, raised his gaze to meet the white-haired architect. He swallowed dryly and cautiously pointed to the blueprint on the right.
“The scale of this design is larger, so the construction cost will be higher, Your Highness.”
“Then let’s do this.”
As soon as Bjorn finished his explanation, he made his decision. His tone was too calm to be considered a joke.
“Bjorn?”
"When you're having trouble making a decision, remember this, Erna. Nothing in this world is cheap or good. Expensive things are usually expensive for a reason."
Even when faced with Erna's bewilderment, Bjorn remained calm.
“But the more expensive one isn’t always worth the price.”
“Then we must use any means necessary to ensure that they get their fair share.”
Bjorn smiled casually and looked at the architect.
“Isn’t that right, Mr. Wasser?”
Emil Wasser, confronted with the unexpected question, smiled awkwardly and collected the blueprints. His eyes, glancing toward the door, clearly expressed his eagerness to escape this thorny situation. Bjorn, after leaving his wife's greenhouse in his care, finally let the old greenhouse architect go.
“Everything is big in Dniester.”
As the reception room door closed, Erna gave a soft sigh and a smile. Bjorn nodded his head in an almost obnoxiously polite manner, responding to the compliment. The tips of his long, crossed legs gleamed with polished shoe tips.
“Thank you, Bjorn.”
After a long moment of silently gazing at him, Erna conveyed her feelings with a heartfelt greeting. Erna now knew perfectly well that this was precisely the way of Bjorn, Prince of Letzen and banker. A man whose love was to bestow the most precious and precious things.
Without a word, Bjorn smiled and tilted his head to look at Erna. Just as their gaze deepened, a sharp knock came, clearly from Madame Fitz. Erna, with a look of disbelief on her face, as if caught in a bad prank, hurriedly retreated to the edge of the sofa.
“Urgent news has arrived from the palace.”
She approached him with a quicker-than-usual pace and handed him the letter she had been carrying on a silver platter. Bjorn's eyes narrowed as he examined it.
Please arrive at the palace by tomorrow morning. This is a major royal event, and the entire family will be gathered, so I hope you and your spouse will be present.
That was all that was contained in the letter, written in the unmistakable handwriting of a Queen. As far as Bjorn knew, his mother had never written letters like this.
“Would it be better to go to Bern now?”
Erna's face darkened as she checked the letter that Bjorn had handed her.
"No, Erna. If that were the case, they would have told you to go to the palace immediately."
“What on earth is going on? Is something bad happening?”
"Well."
Bjorn grasped the staff he'd leaned against the armrest of the sofa. A platinum wolf's head flashed in his grasp.
“What, did His Highness the Crown Prince, who was so absent-minded, have an accident?”
Even as he chuckled and made a joke, Bjorn's eyes remained calm and still.
This is Leonid Dneister's business.
He had that conviction without any particular basis.
Since that day, lights have often burst forth in beautiful landscapes. And each time, the colors they remember emerge.
An emerald sea. A red city in the desert. A festival where colorful roses sway.
Erna sorted through the photos spread out across her desk with the aforementioned expression on her face.
She wanted to frame and display all the photos, but that felt like overkill, so she painstakingly chose a few. After much deliberation, she decided to leave out her favorite photo. She wanted to keep that one as a personal treasure. Of course, it was also a decision made with consideration and concern for the dignity and pride of the Grand Duke of Schwerin.
Erna took a sip of her cooled tea and sat up straight, facing the framed photo of her favorite moment. It was a photo taken with Bjorn under an orange tree on the morning of the fiftieth anniversary of King Lorca's coronation.
Erna, standing on tiptoe, beamed at the camera, while Bjorn smiled faintly at her. Her impeccably formal attire accentuated her impertinent posture and expression.
Erna stared at the photo for a long time, feeling the wind and sunlight of that day, the sweet scent of oranges wafting to her nostrils. Just that, her heart pounded. It felt as if this was a landscape documenting his love.
Erna stood up, holding the photo, so precious and intimate she didn't want anyone to see. An involuntary smile escaped her lips as she stood before the large cookie tin next to her desk.
'The monster has made a friend.'
Mrs. Fitz defined the cookie jar with one word: a euphemism for something as unsightly as a statue of an elephant.
Although it was a gift she'd requested, Erna was speechless the first time she saw the cookie tin. Bjorn had brought a huge tin box, too large to be called a cookie tin; it was more like a cookie box. The cookie tin was painted with colorful flowers, making it even more impressive.
'It's big.'
Erna, who had been staring at her husband's gift for a long time, spoke absentmindedly. That was the only comment she could make about the cookie tin, which looked like it could fit inside if she crouched down.
'It's really big.'
Erna, who had been expressing her sincere admiration, finally broke into a childish laugh. It was a very large box, and she felt it could fill it with so much happiness. Erna actually thought the new cookie tin was very pretty, but she decided not to express her opinion, as it seemed like a rather subjective assessment.
The cookie tin, custom-made by the Prince, was filled with enough cookies to share with the entire Schwerin Palace. Though she considered them the most delicious cookies in the world, Erna decided to keep them for herself.
It was early spring, when lingering snow still lingered in the palace gardens. And in the summer, the cookie jar, filled with memories of the previous spring, stood firm in a corner of the Grand Duchess's bedroom.
Erna gently placed the picture frame containing the landscape of love into the cookie jar. As she gazed at the mementos of her past travels, her heart swelled like freshly baked bread.
“Your Highness, this is Mrs. Fitz.”
Mrs. Fitz's polite voice woke Erna from her immersive thoughts.
“Yes! Come in!”
Erna quickly closed the lid of the cookie jar and straightened her posture. Mrs. Fitz quietly opened the door and entered, paying her respects with a polite nod.
Sitting across from each other at a table by the window, where the breeze from the River Abbey blew in, the two discussed the social events scheduled for Schwerin Palace this summer: balls, picnics, and even a rowing competition and a summer festival to be held on the palace grounds next month. Despite the packed schedule, Erna was quite enthusiastic.
“The trophy has a new ribbon.”
A faint smile appeared on Mrs. Fitz's lips as she happened to glance at the trophy on the console. This summer, the ribbon on the antlers was blue. It was a beautiful color, resembling the shy, smiling eyes of her hostess.
Mrs. Fitz looked around the room with a much softer gaze. Despite the new decorations, the Grand Duchess's eccentric tastes still lingered here and there. A ribboned antler trophy, a typewriter. A sculpture of an elephant. Now, even that flowered tin box.
Interior decorator Lorenz Dix was desperate to get rid of the aesthetically disturbing objects, but Erna persisted. Knowing how much she cherished her husband's gifts, she subtly sided with the Grand Duchess. Though monstrous, the Grand Duchess and her husband's affections within them were truly endearing.
“You have to meet the architect in 30 minutes. Get ready.”
Mrs. Fitz, her face regaining its usual calm, reported her hostess's next plans. It was yet another gift from the Prince, one that left everyone stunned.
***
The Prince left work earlier than scheduled.
As the servants who had rushed in after hearing the news lined up, a carriage with a flashing golden wolf emblem stopped in front of the Grand Duke's residence.
“Her Highness is in thedrawing room. She is talking to Mr. Emil Wasser.”
Mrs. Fitz greeted the Prince with a polite greeting and began by conveying the most important matter. Bjorn, who was inspecting the entrance, raised his eyebrows in question.
“Wasser?”
“He is the architect who designed the greenhouse that the Prince telegraphed here during his visit to Lorca.”
Mrs. Fitz sighed quietly and added her explanation. Only then did Bjorn nod dryly and smile.
Bjorn, holding his cane firmly in his hand, strode across the lobby hall and up the stairs. As everyone expected, his destination was the reception room, where the Grand Duchess was.
“Wow, Prince!”
The door opened with a soft knock, and the startled architect jumped to his feet. Erna, who had been sitting with her back turned to the door, belatedly noticed Bjorn's appearance.
Bjorn nodded in response to the architect's greeting and sat down next to his wife. Several greenhouse plans lay spread out on the reception table. It seemed she hadn't yet made a final decision.
“I wanted to ask your opinion anyway.”
Erna greeted him with a smile.
“It is my wife's, so do as you will.”
After briefly glancing at the blueprints covering the table, Bjorn unbuttoned his gloves and offered a cool reply. Erna, who seemed unsatisfied with the answer, stared at him, her eyes narrowing.
“But Bjorn, this is Schwerin Castle.”
Erna straightened her posture and smiled gently. Bjorn now knew from experience that this woman was at her most stubborn when she wore this expression.
"First of all, these are the two I like the most, but I've been hesitating because it's hard to choose between them. I think it would be helpful if you could take a look."
Erna lifted two blueprints from the center of the table and held them out to Bjorn. Bjorn, impressed by his wife's growing skill at giving orders, feigned defeat and accepted them.
“Which construction cost is higher?”
Bjorn, who had been examining the blueprints dryly, raised his gaze to meet the white-haired architect. He swallowed dryly and cautiously pointed to the blueprint on the right.
“The scale of this design is larger, so the construction cost will be higher, Your Highness.”
“Then let’s do this.”
As soon as Bjorn finished his explanation, he made his decision. His tone was too calm to be considered a joke.
“Bjorn?”
"When you're having trouble making a decision, remember this, Erna. Nothing in this world is cheap or good. Expensive things are usually expensive for a reason."
Even when faced with Erna's bewilderment, Bjorn remained calm.
“But the more expensive one isn’t always worth the price.”
“Then we must use any means necessary to ensure that they get their fair share.”
Bjorn smiled casually and looked at the architect.
“Isn’t that right, Mr. Wasser?”
Emil Wasser, confronted with the unexpected question, smiled awkwardly and collected the blueprints. His eyes, glancing toward the door, clearly expressed his eagerness to escape this thorny situation. Bjorn, after leaving his wife's greenhouse in his care, finally let the old greenhouse architect go.
“Everything is big in Dniester.”
As the reception room door closed, Erna gave a soft sigh and a smile. Bjorn nodded his head in an almost obnoxiously polite manner, responding to the compliment. The tips of his long, crossed legs gleamed with polished shoe tips.
“Thank you, Bjorn.”
After a long moment of silently gazing at him, Erna conveyed her feelings with a heartfelt greeting. Erna now knew perfectly well that this was precisely the way of Bjorn, Prince of Letzen and banker. A man whose love was to bestow the most precious and precious things.
Without a word, Bjorn smiled and tilted his head to look at Erna. Just as their gaze deepened, a sharp knock came, clearly from Madame Fitz. Erna, with a look of disbelief on her face, as if caught in a bad prank, hurriedly retreated to the edge of the sofa.
“Urgent news has arrived from the palace.”
She approached him with a quicker-than-usual pace and handed him the letter she had been carrying on a silver platter. Bjorn's eyes narrowed as he examined it.
Please arrive at the palace by tomorrow morning. This is a major royal event, and the entire family will be gathered, so I hope you and your spouse will be present.
That was all that was contained in the letter, written in the unmistakable handwriting of a Queen. As far as Bjorn knew, his mother had never written letters like this.
“Would it be better to go to Bern now?”
Erna's face darkened as she checked the letter that Bjorn had handed her.
"No, Erna. If that were the case, they would have told you to go to the palace immediately."
“What on earth is going on? Is something bad happening?”
"Well."
Bjorn grasped the staff he'd leaned against the armrest of the sofa. A platinum wolf's head flashed in his grasp.
“What, did His Highness the Crown Prince, who was so absent-minded, have an accident?”
Even as he chuckled and made a joke, Bjorn's eyes remained calm and still.
This is Leonid Dneister's business.
He had that conviction without any particular basis.
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