Side Story 15. Fold
But the teacher was a fraud.
It didn't take long for Erna to realize that.
Bjorn, who had been a decent teacher until the first riding lesson, began to reveal his true colors from the second day. When Erna screamed in fear, his eyes narrowed, and when he watched her struggle to keep her upright, he let out a sigh mixed with slight irritation.
The riding lessons, which had been maintained in a somewhat peaceful manner, finally came to a screeching halt last evening, amidst a beautiful sunset. It had been barely a week since Dorothea, the lady in the white hat and gloves, had carried the Grand Duchess on her back.
"Your Highness, are you really not going out? The Prince will be leaving soon."
Lisa, putting down her clothes brush, asked a concerned question. Her eyes wavered slightly, but Erna stubbornly nodded.
“I’m busy preparing for the summer festival, so I don’t think I’ll be able to see him off and pick him up for a while.”
Erna gave a calm answer and left for the suite's reception room. A fresh surge of anger welled up in her as she saw the ugly elephant sculpture gleaming loudly beside the desk.
What she said to Lisa wasn't just an excuse to not want to see her husband off, whom she didn't like to see.
This summer, Erna has been incredibly busy.
With countless social events during the season, women's club activities, and the summer festival just around the corner, there were often days without a moment's rest, from early morning until late at night.
Even in all that, the only reason she decided to take the time to learn horseback riding was because of Bjorn. It was his clumsy promise of love, and Erna cherished that love. Little did she know that she would ultimately suffer such an insult.
With belated regret that she should have followed the interior decorator's advice and discarded that monstrosity, Erna sat down at the desk guarded by a golden elephant. As Lisa, who had been observing her, left, a profound silence fell over the drawing room.
She was treated like an idiot, worse than a horse.
It seemed as if yesterday's events could not be explained in any other words.
'What the hell is the problem?'
He stared at Erna, who had come down trembling, clinging to Dorothea's back, for a long time before asking a question mixed with a sigh.
"How can you do this kind of riding with this kind of teacher and these words? Try to make me understand, Erna. I think we can solve this problem only if we understand the root cause."
It would have been better to just get angry. His calm, emotionless voice and utterly cold gaze only made Erna feel even more upset and miserable.
'I'm sorry. I'm so clumsy... '
"No, Erna. Not an apology, but an explanation."
Still, he let out another deep sigh, cutting off Erna's words as she held back and offered a ladylike apology.
'I'm doing that because I'm scared.'
Although her anger was rising to the top of her head, Erna held it together and tried to explain what she wanted.
'What if Dorothea makes a mistake or suddenly runs and drops me...?'
'Erna.'
Bjorn, who had even cut off the very explanation he had requested, smiled with an ambiguous expression.
'Dorothea is perfect. By now, she probably understands this lesson better than you do.'
'Are you saying that I'm worse than words?'
Even in front of Erna, who was astonished, Bjorn didn't even raise an eyebrow.
'You don't really think you're better than Dorothea, do you?'
The man's face, as he asked even more shamelessly, still held a cool, knowing expression. So, those words were Bjorn's true feelings.
Yesterday's humiliating lesson ended with Erna exploding in anger, unable to think about ladylike manners any longer.
Even in the face of Erna's fiery rage, he showed no real emotional agitation. He simply stared blankly and chuckled, finding her cute and absurd. His demeanor was as if he were dealing with a child throwing a tantrum.
Erna squeezed her eyes shut, as if trying to erase the vivid memory. She counted to ten, then ten again, before finally calming down.
Erna knew full well that her own riding skills were poor. Dorothea was a well-trained and intelligent horse, and Bjorn Dneister was an excellent horseman. So, as he had said, the problem was definitely her own. But people tend to get angry when something is right. Especially when it's such a cruel and abusive remark.
When Erna, catching her breath, finally opened her eyes, the room was bathed in a brighter, more vibrant light. It was already time for the carriage carrying Bjorn to depart.
Erna, who had been thinking about going to the window to take a peek, changed her mind and opened the papers on her desk, picking up her pen. The work she had been given today was piling up, and she couldn't afford to waste time on that terribly rude man.
The Grand Duchess of Schwerin's drawing room soon began to fill with the sound of pens scraping across paper and soft sighs.
Who keeps calling that kid?
His eyes, filled with annoyed questions, darted back and forth across the deck. Everyone here knew he'd shown up of his own free will, but in the worst of situations, a scapegoat was always sought.
The game ended amidst this chaotic atmosphere. The winner was Bjorn Dneister, the ruthless slaughterer of the Schwerin social club card room, who had appeared without warning and swept the board.
Bjorn looked up, checked the time, leaned back in his chair, and lit a fresh cigar. The faces of those who had harbored a glimmer of hope soon turned to despair. Apparently, they weren't ready to let it slide today, let alone enjoy themselves.
The card players, having given up for a while, began to giggle and exchange silly jokes. Horse racing, investing, and pretty ladies from high society. The usual buzz of conversation heated up the temporarily resting card tables. Their final destination was this summer's rowing competition. Speculations were heated, with people betting on which team would win. With the Crown Prince's absence weakening the team that had been a perennial favorite, it was difficult to predict who would lift the trophy this year.
Bjorn gazed at the dull scene through the dispersing cigar smoke. Everyone seemed eager to inquire about the reason for the Crown Prince's absence, but he held back from speaking.
Then, Bjorn suddenly remembered that the rowing competition was just around the corner. Erna, preoccupied with preparing for the day's festivities, briefly floated up through the cigar smoke and then vanished.
She spent this summer season as if she were fighting a life-or-death battle. Advising her not to overwork herself proved futile. He was worried about her health, but thinking back to yesterday, he realized his worries were unnecessary. The way she glared at him with eyes that seemed to flicker with blue flames and howled with ferocity was truly impressive. She looked like a beast.
Jumping to conclusions, getting angry, and throwing tantrums.
He couldn't quite understand Erna, who was quite emotional. It was a question meant to resolve a problem, so an objective answer was all that was needed. Only then could they devise a solution to overcome the predicament.
But Erna didn't seem inclined to do so, so he decided to let it go. He declared with his own mouth that he wouldn't take lessons with her again, so Erna would want the same. If she was willing to continue learning, he would find her a professional instructor. If not, he just sells the horse and gets rid of it.
It was only when he heard Leonard's voice calling him that Bjorn realized that a new round had begun.
"No."
Bjorn glanced at his watch, then sat down at the card table and took a deep drag from his cigar.
“Let’s get started.”
The words he spat out with the smoke contained a faint hint of mockery.
'Don't follow me. I don't want to see your face!'
Erna, her face red with anger, left the pasture with those words.
Since he had no intention of doing so anyway, Bjorn willingly complied with his wife's wishes. He even understood and respected her childish rebellion, such as not showing up at the dinner table and locking the door to her bedroom.
There is a Maginot Line even for showing affection.
If he did something wrong, he gladly apologized, but he had absolutely no intention of enduring this kind of coercion and whining. If he left it alone, it would just wear itself out.
Bjorn, having checked the card in his hand, held his glass with a blank expression. The ticking of the second hand drifted through the clear, clattering ice in the glass, a gnawing sound that grated on his nerves.
As he received his next card, Bjorn unconsciously glanced at his watch again. There was an hour left until class. If Erna hadn't been so absurdly tantruming, he would have been sitting in the carriage back to the Grand Duke's residence by now.
“Bjorn.”
This time, Peter called his name.
Bjorn, holding the cigar he'd placed on his glass between his lips, finally returned to the game. A glimmer of joy slowly crept over the faces of the card players, watching him struggle to focus. Perhaps they could recoup the money they'd lost to the wolf in the previous round.
The cards were dealt again, and it was time to place a bet. All eyes, as if by necessity, turned to Bjorn Dneister. He examined his cards with a face that seemed completely inscrutable, then looked up at his watch and chuckled.
What kind of new bluff is that?
As the tension reached its peak, Bjorn slowly opened his lips.
“Fold.”
He declared that he was giving up on the game, got up from his seat, and leisurely left the card room.
“See? I had a feeling this round was going to be a total mess.”
As the door closed, Peter squealed with joy. With the card goddess's beloved Prince gone, it was clear he would win this round.
"But what's the deal? How bad does it have to be for Bjorn Dneister to resign?"
Leonard, staring at the closed door, pondered his doubts. He picked up the cards left behind in the spot where the owner had left them. At that moment, silence fell once again on the card table.
Full house.
Unless something unexpected happens, he would have won this game by a large margin.
But the teacher was a fraud.
It didn't take long for Erna to realize that.
Bjorn, who had been a decent teacher until the first riding lesson, began to reveal his true colors from the second day. When Erna screamed in fear, his eyes narrowed, and when he watched her struggle to keep her upright, he let out a sigh mixed with slight irritation.
The riding lessons, which had been maintained in a somewhat peaceful manner, finally came to a screeching halt last evening, amidst a beautiful sunset. It had been barely a week since Dorothea, the lady in the white hat and gloves, had carried the Grand Duchess on her back.
"Your Highness, are you really not going out? The Prince will be leaving soon."
Lisa, putting down her clothes brush, asked a concerned question. Her eyes wavered slightly, but Erna stubbornly nodded.
“I’m busy preparing for the summer festival, so I don’t think I’ll be able to see him off and pick him up for a while.”
Erna gave a calm answer and left for the suite's reception room. A fresh surge of anger welled up in her as she saw the ugly elephant sculpture gleaming loudly beside the desk.
What she said to Lisa wasn't just an excuse to not want to see her husband off, whom she didn't like to see.
This summer, Erna has been incredibly busy.
With countless social events during the season, women's club activities, and the summer festival just around the corner, there were often days without a moment's rest, from early morning until late at night.
Even in all that, the only reason she decided to take the time to learn horseback riding was because of Bjorn. It was his clumsy promise of love, and Erna cherished that love. Little did she know that she would ultimately suffer such an insult.
With belated regret that she should have followed the interior decorator's advice and discarded that monstrosity, Erna sat down at the desk guarded by a golden elephant. As Lisa, who had been observing her, left, a profound silence fell over the drawing room.
She was treated like an idiot, worse than a horse.
It seemed as if yesterday's events could not be explained in any other words.
'What the hell is the problem?'
He stared at Erna, who had come down trembling, clinging to Dorothea's back, for a long time before asking a question mixed with a sigh.
"How can you do this kind of riding with this kind of teacher and these words? Try to make me understand, Erna. I think we can solve this problem only if we understand the root cause."
It would have been better to just get angry. His calm, emotionless voice and utterly cold gaze only made Erna feel even more upset and miserable.
'I'm sorry. I'm so clumsy... '
"No, Erna. Not an apology, but an explanation."
Still, he let out another deep sigh, cutting off Erna's words as she held back and offered a ladylike apology.
'I'm doing that because I'm scared.'
Although her anger was rising to the top of her head, Erna held it together and tried to explain what she wanted.
'What if Dorothea makes a mistake or suddenly runs and drops me...?'
'Erna.'
Bjorn, who had even cut off the very explanation he had requested, smiled with an ambiguous expression.
'Dorothea is perfect. By now, she probably understands this lesson better than you do.'
'Are you saying that I'm worse than words?'
Even in front of Erna, who was astonished, Bjorn didn't even raise an eyebrow.
'You don't really think you're better than Dorothea, do you?'
The man's face, as he asked even more shamelessly, still held a cool, knowing expression. So, those words were Bjorn's true feelings.
Yesterday's humiliating lesson ended with Erna exploding in anger, unable to think about ladylike manners any longer.
Even in the face of Erna's fiery rage, he showed no real emotional agitation. He simply stared blankly and chuckled, finding her cute and absurd. His demeanor was as if he were dealing with a child throwing a tantrum.
Erna squeezed her eyes shut, as if trying to erase the vivid memory. She counted to ten, then ten again, before finally calming down.
Erna knew full well that her own riding skills were poor. Dorothea was a well-trained and intelligent horse, and Bjorn Dneister was an excellent horseman. So, as he had said, the problem was definitely her own. But people tend to get angry when something is right. Especially when it's such a cruel and abusive remark.
When Erna, catching her breath, finally opened her eyes, the room was bathed in a brighter, more vibrant light. It was already time for the carriage carrying Bjorn to depart.
Erna, who had been thinking about going to the window to take a peek, changed her mind and opened the papers on her desk, picking up her pen. The work she had been given today was piling up, and she couldn't afford to waste time on that terribly rude man.
The Grand Duchess of Schwerin's drawing room soon began to fill with the sound of pens scraping across paper and soft sighs.
***
Who keeps calling that kid?
His eyes, filled with annoyed questions, darted back and forth across the deck. Everyone here knew he'd shown up of his own free will, but in the worst of situations, a scapegoat was always sought.
The game ended amidst this chaotic atmosphere. The winner was Bjorn Dneister, the ruthless slaughterer of the Schwerin social club card room, who had appeared without warning and swept the board.
Bjorn looked up, checked the time, leaned back in his chair, and lit a fresh cigar. The faces of those who had harbored a glimmer of hope soon turned to despair. Apparently, they weren't ready to let it slide today, let alone enjoy themselves.
The card players, having given up for a while, began to giggle and exchange silly jokes. Horse racing, investing, and pretty ladies from high society. The usual buzz of conversation heated up the temporarily resting card tables. Their final destination was this summer's rowing competition. Speculations were heated, with people betting on which team would win. With the Crown Prince's absence weakening the team that had been a perennial favorite, it was difficult to predict who would lift the trophy this year.
Bjorn gazed at the dull scene through the dispersing cigar smoke. Everyone seemed eager to inquire about the reason for the Crown Prince's absence, but he held back from speaking.
Then, Bjorn suddenly remembered that the rowing competition was just around the corner. Erna, preoccupied with preparing for the day's festivities, briefly floated up through the cigar smoke and then vanished.
She spent this summer season as if she were fighting a life-or-death battle. Advising her not to overwork herself proved futile. He was worried about her health, but thinking back to yesterday, he realized his worries were unnecessary. The way she glared at him with eyes that seemed to flicker with blue flames and howled with ferocity was truly impressive. She looked like a beast.
Jumping to conclusions, getting angry, and throwing tantrums.
He couldn't quite understand Erna, who was quite emotional. It was a question meant to resolve a problem, so an objective answer was all that was needed. Only then could they devise a solution to overcome the predicament.
But Erna didn't seem inclined to do so, so he decided to let it go. He declared with his own mouth that he wouldn't take lessons with her again, so Erna would want the same. If she was willing to continue learning, he would find her a professional instructor. If not, he just sells the horse and gets rid of it.
“Bjorn, are you going to skip it?"
"No."
Bjorn glanced at his watch, then sat down at the card table and took a deep drag from his cigar.
“Let’s get started.”
The words he spat out with the smoke contained a faint hint of mockery.
'Don't follow me. I don't want to see your face!'
Erna, her face red with anger, left the pasture with those words.
Since he had no intention of doing so anyway, Bjorn willingly complied with his wife's wishes. He even understood and respected her childish rebellion, such as not showing up at the dinner table and locking the door to her bedroom.
There is a Maginot Line even for showing affection.
If he did something wrong, he gladly apologized, but he had absolutely no intention of enduring this kind of coercion and whining. If he left it alone, it would just wear itself out.
Bjorn, having checked the card in his hand, held his glass with a blank expression. The ticking of the second hand drifted through the clear, clattering ice in the glass, a gnawing sound that grated on his nerves.
As he received his next card, Bjorn unconsciously glanced at his watch again. There was an hour left until class. If Erna hadn't been so absurdly tantruming, he would have been sitting in the carriage back to the Grand Duke's residence by now.
“Bjorn.”
This time, Peter called his name.
Bjorn, holding the cigar he'd placed on his glass between his lips, finally returned to the game. A glimmer of joy slowly crept over the faces of the card players, watching him struggle to focus. Perhaps they could recoup the money they'd lost to the wolf in the previous round.
The cards were dealt again, and it was time to place a bet. All eyes, as if by necessity, turned to Bjorn Dneister. He examined his cards with a face that seemed completely inscrutable, then looked up at his watch and chuckled.
What kind of new bluff is that?
As the tension reached its peak, Bjorn slowly opened his lips.
“Fold.”
He declared that he was giving up on the game, got up from his seat, and leisurely left the card room.
“See? I had a feeling this round was going to be a total mess.”
As the door closed, Peter squealed with joy. With the card goddess's beloved Prince gone, it was clear he would win this round.
"But what's the deal? How bad does it have to be for Bjorn Dneister to resign?"
Leonard, staring at the closed door, pondered his doubts. He picked up the cards left behind in the spot where the owner had left them. At that moment, silence fell once again on the card table.
Full house.
Unless something unexpected happens, he would have won this game by a large margin.
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