Side Story 17: Bibi and Nana
“The weather is nice.”
Bjorn's calm voice floated through the bright laughter and music. It was the first word he'd spoken in just minutes since sitting at the same table.
“Yes, that’s right.”
Erna replied sharply and turned her head. Bjorn sat there, his chin tilted against his head, looking at her.
“It’s a great day to do useless things.”
The sharp remark was a small revenge for the man's barbed words and the last bit of pride.
Bjorn, who had been frowning, soon quirked the corners of his mouth into a smile. Although she disliked this attempt at evasiveness, she found it difficult to tear her eyes away from his face.
What an annoying guy.
Looking at her husband's face, which was difficult to hate as much as she wanted, Erna let out a sigh mixed with sweet resignation.
He seemed to have changed, but he hadn't. And Erna didn't seem to dislike it. That's why. No fool doesn't know his own heart.
Erna, slightly upset by this, forced herself to turn her head. And just as she'd inadvertently glanced at them, Leonied and Rosette were standing there, surrounded by the royal ladies, their expressions not particularly favorable.
Even without a sound, it was a sight that made one imagine the sharp words being exchanged, yet the two remained completely unfazed. As they had been doing all day, they held each other's hands, trusting and relying on each other to endure the hardship.
Leo and Rosie.
The two, who appeared almost stiff on the outside, called each other by such affectionate names. Leonid's gaze, gazing at his lover, was so gentle and warm that Erna's heart tingled as she watched.
Leonid was like a Prince from a fairy tale.
A Prince who would always be a steadfast shield by his fiancée's side, willing to fight a fire-breathing dragon to protect his Princess if necessary. It was Prince Leonid who silently stood by Rosette's side during her difficult years as the only female student at the Royal College, and there couldn't be a more fitting metaphor.
As one group of relatives left, new ones arrived. Their expressions clearly showed their displeasure, but Erna decided not to worry about them any longer. Leonied would protect her fiancé, no matter what. Rosette, too, didn't seem like the type of lady who would be easily swayed by the gaze of others.
Erna turned her gaze away from them. A small, unconscious sigh escaped her lips as she met her eyes again with her prince across the table.
Two years ago today, that festival night suddenly came to mind.
How terrifying and overwhelming it had been to be thrust into the unfamiliar world of marriage, a tangible object. And how wonderful it had been to have the Prince who had reached out to her like a ray of light. Erna could remember it all as vividly as if it were happening now.
It was a beautiful midsummer night's dream. The handsome Prince turned out to be a card-playing gambler, and the hand of salvation was directed not at her but at the stakes.
“Why are you looking at me like that?”
Erna's eyes narrowed as she faced her Prince, whom she was starting to hate seeing again.
“Because you're so pretty.”
Bjorn spoke in a strangely unfamiliar tone with his face expressionless.
“My wife is pretty even when you frown.”
A lazy smile appeared on his lips as he watched Erna panic.
“You’re pretty even when you’re angry.”
Even in front of Erna, who frowned as if rebuking the obvious trick, Bjorn continued to make witty jokes.
“Of course, smiling is the prettiest.”
The glass lamps in the garden, painstakingly selected, bathed his face in a warm glow. Erna sat up straight, her lips almost twitching in a smile of shock.
She wanted to reconcile by today, but she still didn't want to let it slide so easily. Wasn't he the kind of man who would insult his wife by comparing her to a horse, spout out absurdities, then fight again, only to remain cold for days? Getting caught up in such obvious tricks was too much of a blow to her pride.
But.
Erna just looked at him without saying anything in rebuttal.
In truth, she knew she hadn't done very well. It was true that she had been feeling the pressure to successfully host this festival, which had made her feel a bit irritated. It was also hard to deny Bjorn's point that she had reacted rather emotionally and sensitively.
“I feel better now.”
He watched Erna hesitate and smiled. Annoyed by her attitude, as if she believed he was placing her in the palm of his hand, Erna shook her head firmly.
"No."
“Then why can’t you take your eyes off me?”
“I was thinking...”
“What are you thinking?”
“I was wondering why I couldn’t be this great today.”
"What?"
Bjorn chuckled as if he had encountered a child playing a ridiculous prank.
“Seeing you make such lame excuses really makes me feel better.”
"Why are you so confident? Even you can't always be amazing."
“Ah. Is that so? What is it that makes my wife so uncomfortable?”
“...That tie.”
Erna, startled, sacrificed the first thing she saw, Tie.
“I don’t think that color suits you very well.”
Of course, that's a lie.
The champagne-colored tie suited him perfectly.
Well, it would be the same no matter what color it is.
Erna was convinced that a rainbow floral tie would look great on Bjorn Dneister. Of course, that would never happen.
Bjorn, who had been staring at Erna with a face that seemed to already know everything, called his attendant with a gentle gesture. He left after receiving the quietly conveyed order, returning shortly afterwards with Prince Christian.
“What on earth is going on?”
Prince Christian, summoned without knowing anything, asked a question with a nervous expression. While Erna was doubtful, Bjorn pointed precisely at his brother's tie and gave a calm order.
“Let’s go, Chris.”
“What? Tie? Why this?”
Prince Christian, taken aback, questioned, but Bjorn refused to answer, simply staring at his brother. His eyes were demanding, without hesitation.
Despite his shock, Prince Christian obediently complied with his brother's request. Erna had no time to try to stop him.
Soon after, the turquoise tie Prince Christian had been wearing was placed on the Grand Duchess's table. Bjorn untied his own tie and placed it in his brother's hand, thus sealing the deal.
While Prince Christian stood there, his expression blank, Bjorn casually tied his turquoise tie. Then, with a slight nod, as if to say goodbye, he put an end to his elegant takeover.
He looked as if he'd encountered a madman, but Prince Christian simply shook his head and left. Erna, who had been looking back and forth between his back and her husband, dressed in a plundered tie, finally couldn't hold it in any longer and burst out laughing.
Erna's Prince was annoying but wonderful. And Erna loved the fairy tale they created with him the most. It might not be the most classic, but it was as captivating as it was unconventional, and that was fine.
“Do you like it now?”
He shamelessly asked what he already knew,
“It’s much better.”
Erna pretended not to be defeated and accepted the hand of reconciliation he offered.
Just then, the garden began to buzz. It was already a midsummer night. It was time for the flowers of the festival to bloom.
As the night boat ride began, everyone's attention was once again focused on the Crown Prince and his fiancée.
Thanks to this, the Grand Duke and Grand Duchess of Schwerin were able to board the ship quietly without attracting attention. Even as their boat left the dock and drifted along the light-filled waters of the Abbey, the crowd's attention remained fixed on Leonied and Rosette.
Enjoying the leisure the Crown Prince had given him, Bjorn leisurely rowed to where the festival lights were at their most beautiful. The trembling of his voice faded for a moment. Erna began to tell the stories she had been holding back, one by one. As they listened intently to her clear, song-like voice, their boat reached a spot where they could see the Grand Duke's Bridge and Schwerin Castle at a glance.
“Miss Preve seems like a good person.”
A bright smile appeared on Erna's face as she spoke about her first encounter with Rosette Preve.
“I like her because it somehow feels similar to you.”
Bjorn's eyebrows furrowed at his wife's excited words. He was sure Rosette Preve would make the same expression if she heard those words.
Bjorn, who had been thinking about telling the story of the Mad Swan, a legend at Schwerin University, changed his mind and nodded. It was good that the two of them were getting along, after all.
“But I’m still the only one with brown hair. I’m still the smallest.”
Erna muttered with a slightly sullen face.
Only then did Bjorn remember that Rosette Prevet was a tall, blond woman, with the appearance of a perfect member of the Dneister royal family.
“There’s Greta.”
“Now, even Princess Greta is about a finger joint taller than me.”
Erna seemed quite seriously upset that she had lost to the youngest, a thirteen-year-old.
“So what, Erna?”
Bjorn laughed casually. The women of the Dniester royal family were generally as tall as most men, so it was only natural that Greta would grow to be the same.
“That’s why you’re more special.”
Bjorn gazed deeply and silently at the small, brown-haired Grand Duchess. Erna, who had been staring blankly at him, averted her gaze, caressing her slightly flushed cheek.
“If horseback riding is difficult, you don’t have to learn it.”
Bjorn's voice filtered through the sound of the water crashing against the bow. Erna raised her head, slightly startled.
“You don’t want to teach me anymore?”
“No. I thought it was for your benefit, but if it’s hard for you, you don’t have to endure it.”
“No. I want to learn. I want to do that.”
Erna shook her head without hesitation.
Even while waging a cold war with her conman master, Erna visited the stables every day to see her horse. She stroked its mane, fed it beets, and chatted with it about various things. Now that she was no longer afraid, she finally understood. Just as Bjorn had said, Dorothea was the perfect horse, and she could trust her with complete confidence.
“Please continue teaching me. I will study hard again.”
“Are you going to fight again?”
"That may be true, but I think it'll be okay. Now that I know how to reconcile, I'll be able to fight more wisely than before."
A smart fight, huh? It seemed a bit awkward, but Erna didn't correct herself. Bjorn, who had been staring blankly at her, gave a cool smile in agreement.
“Bjorn, how about we make up some nicknames too?”
Encouraged by Erna's generous gaze, which seemed ready to grant any request, she quietly brought out the wind that had been swirling in her heart all day.
"Since you and I don't have nicknames that other people call us by, I think it would be nice if we could have our own names that only the two of us in this world call each other by. It's romantic, isn't it?"
“Just call my name.”
"Just think about it. Am I Ena? Or Nana?"
It was a name that came to mind after much thought, but Bjorn just chuckled.
“You are... Bibi?”
Erna stubbornly persisted in her opinion. She knew it didn't suit her at all, but she struggled to come up with any other nickname.
Bibi and Nana.
It was strange, but it didn't seem all that bad. Bjorn now frowned, even his smirk gone.
Bjorn gave a sarcastic reply, his expression tingling with disgust. At that moment, Erna resolved. From now on, when she became so disgusted with him, she would call him Bibi.
Erna, having decided to give up her nickname, began to chatter about the friendship she had developed with Dorothea. As she was finishing her story, the fireworks began.
Under the dazzling lights, Nana kissed Bibi.
A Midsummer Night's Dream just got a little more beautiful.
“The weather is nice.”
Bjorn's calm voice floated through the bright laughter and music. It was the first word he'd spoken in just minutes since sitting at the same table.
“Yes, that’s right.”
Erna replied sharply and turned her head. Bjorn sat there, his chin tilted against his head, looking at her.
“It’s a great day to do useless things.”
The sharp remark was a small revenge for the man's barbed words and the last bit of pride.
Bjorn, who had been frowning, soon quirked the corners of his mouth into a smile. Although she disliked this attempt at evasiveness, she found it difficult to tear her eyes away from his face.
What an annoying guy.
Looking at her husband's face, which was difficult to hate as much as she wanted, Erna let out a sigh mixed with sweet resignation.
He seemed to have changed, but he hadn't. And Erna didn't seem to dislike it. That's why. No fool doesn't know his own heart.
Erna, slightly upset by this, forced herself to turn her head. And just as she'd inadvertently glanced at them, Leonied and Rosette were standing there, surrounded by the royal ladies, their expressions not particularly favorable.
Even without a sound, it was a sight that made one imagine the sharp words being exchanged, yet the two remained completely unfazed. As they had been doing all day, they held each other's hands, trusting and relying on each other to endure the hardship.
Leo and Rosie.
The two, who appeared almost stiff on the outside, called each other by such affectionate names. Leonid's gaze, gazing at his lover, was so gentle and warm that Erna's heart tingled as she watched.
Leonid was like a Prince from a fairy tale.
A Prince who would always be a steadfast shield by his fiancée's side, willing to fight a fire-breathing dragon to protect his Princess if necessary. It was Prince Leonid who silently stood by Rosette's side during her difficult years as the only female student at the Royal College, and there couldn't be a more fitting metaphor.
As one group of relatives left, new ones arrived. Their expressions clearly showed their displeasure, but Erna decided not to worry about them any longer. Leonied would protect her fiancé, no matter what. Rosette, too, didn't seem like the type of lady who would be easily swayed by the gaze of others.
Erna turned her gaze away from them. A small, unconscious sigh escaped her lips as she met her eyes again with her prince across the table.
Two years ago today, that festival night suddenly came to mind.
How terrifying and overwhelming it had been to be thrust into the unfamiliar world of marriage, a tangible object. And how wonderful it had been to have the Prince who had reached out to her like a ray of light. Erna could remember it all as vividly as if it were happening now.
It was a beautiful midsummer night's dream. The handsome Prince turned out to be a card-playing gambler, and the hand of salvation was directed not at her but at the stakes.
“Why are you looking at me like that?”
Erna's eyes narrowed as she faced her Prince, whom she was starting to hate seeing again.
“Because you're so pretty.”
Bjorn spoke in a strangely unfamiliar tone with his face expressionless.
“My wife is pretty even when you frown.”
A lazy smile appeared on his lips as he watched Erna panic.
“You’re pretty even when you’re angry.”
Even in front of Erna, who frowned as if rebuking the obvious trick, Bjorn continued to make witty jokes.
“Of course, smiling is the prettiest.”
The glass lamps in the garden, painstakingly selected, bathed his face in a warm glow. Erna sat up straight, her lips almost twitching in a smile of shock.
She wanted to reconcile by today, but she still didn't want to let it slide so easily. Wasn't he the kind of man who would insult his wife by comparing her to a horse, spout out absurdities, then fight again, only to remain cold for days? Getting caught up in such obvious tricks was too much of a blow to her pride.
But.
Erna just looked at him without saying anything in rebuttal.
In truth, she knew she hadn't done very well. It was true that she had been feeling the pressure to successfully host this festival, which had made her feel a bit irritated. It was also hard to deny Bjorn's point that she had reacted rather emotionally and sensitively.
“I feel better now.”
He watched Erna hesitate and smiled. Annoyed by her attitude, as if she believed he was placing her in the palm of his hand, Erna shook her head firmly.
"No."
“Then why can’t you take your eyes off me?”
“I was thinking...”
“What are you thinking?”
“I was wondering why I couldn’t be this great today.”
"What?"
Bjorn chuckled as if he had encountered a child playing a ridiculous prank.
“Seeing you make such lame excuses really makes me feel better.”
"Why are you so confident? Even you can't always be amazing."
“Ah. Is that so? What is it that makes my wife so uncomfortable?”
“...That tie.”
Erna, startled, sacrificed the first thing she saw, Tie.
“I don’t think that color suits you very well.”
Of course, that's a lie.
The champagne-colored tie suited him perfectly.
Well, it would be the same no matter what color it is.
Erna was convinced that a rainbow floral tie would look great on Bjorn Dneister. Of course, that would never happen.
Bjorn, who had been staring at Erna with a face that seemed to already know everything, called his attendant with a gentle gesture. He left after receiving the quietly conveyed order, returning shortly afterwards with Prince Christian.
“What on earth is going on?”
Prince Christian, summoned without knowing anything, asked a question with a nervous expression. While Erna was doubtful, Bjorn pointed precisely at his brother's tie and gave a calm order.
“Let’s go, Chris.”
“What? Tie? Why this?”
Prince Christian, taken aback, questioned, but Bjorn refused to answer, simply staring at his brother. His eyes were demanding, without hesitation.
Despite his shock, Prince Christian obediently complied with his brother's request. Erna had no time to try to stop him.
Soon after, the turquoise tie Prince Christian had been wearing was placed on the Grand Duchess's table. Bjorn untied his own tie and placed it in his brother's hand, thus sealing the deal.
While Prince Christian stood there, his expression blank, Bjorn casually tied his turquoise tie. Then, with a slight nod, as if to say goodbye, he put an end to his elegant takeover.
He looked as if he'd encountered a madman, but Prince Christian simply shook his head and left. Erna, who had been looking back and forth between his back and her husband, dressed in a plundered tie, finally couldn't hold it in any longer and burst out laughing.
Erna's Prince was annoying but wonderful. And Erna loved the fairy tale they created with him the most. It might not be the most classic, but it was as captivating as it was unconventional, and that was fine.
“Do you like it now?”
He shamelessly asked what he already knew,
“It’s much better.”
Erna pretended not to be defeated and accepted the hand of reconciliation he offered.
Just then, the garden began to buzz. It was already a midsummer night. It was time for the flowers of the festival to bloom.
***
As the night boat ride began, everyone's attention was once again focused on the Crown Prince and his fiancée.
Thanks to this, the Grand Duke and Grand Duchess of Schwerin were able to board the ship quietly without attracting attention. Even as their boat left the dock and drifted along the light-filled waters of the Abbey, the crowd's attention remained fixed on Leonied and Rosette.
Enjoying the leisure the Crown Prince had given him, Bjorn leisurely rowed to where the festival lights were at their most beautiful. The trembling of his voice faded for a moment. Erna began to tell the stories she had been holding back, one by one. As they listened intently to her clear, song-like voice, their boat reached a spot where they could see the Grand Duke's Bridge and Schwerin Castle at a glance.
“Miss Preve seems like a good person.”
A bright smile appeared on Erna's face as she spoke about her first encounter with Rosette Preve.
“I like her because it somehow feels similar to you.”
Bjorn's eyebrows furrowed at his wife's excited words. He was sure Rosette Preve would make the same expression if she heard those words.
Bjorn, who had been thinking about telling the story of the Mad Swan, a legend at Schwerin University, changed his mind and nodded. It was good that the two of them were getting along, after all.
“But I’m still the only one with brown hair. I’m still the smallest.”
Erna muttered with a slightly sullen face.
Only then did Bjorn remember that Rosette Prevet was a tall, blond woman, with the appearance of a perfect member of the Dneister royal family.
“There’s Greta.”
“Now, even Princess Greta is about a finger joint taller than me.”
Erna seemed quite seriously upset that she had lost to the youngest, a thirteen-year-old.
“So what, Erna?”
Bjorn laughed casually. The women of the Dniester royal family were generally as tall as most men, so it was only natural that Greta would grow to be the same.
“That’s why you’re more special.”
Bjorn gazed deeply and silently at the small, brown-haired Grand Duchess. Erna, who had been staring blankly at him, averted her gaze, caressing her slightly flushed cheek.
“If horseback riding is difficult, you don’t have to learn it.”
Bjorn's voice filtered through the sound of the water crashing against the bow. Erna raised her head, slightly startled.
“You don’t want to teach me anymore?”
“No. I thought it was for your benefit, but if it’s hard for you, you don’t have to endure it.”
“No. I want to learn. I want to do that.”
Erna shook her head without hesitation.
Even while waging a cold war with her conman master, Erna visited the stables every day to see her horse. She stroked its mane, fed it beets, and chatted with it about various things. Now that she was no longer afraid, she finally understood. Just as Bjorn had said, Dorothea was the perfect horse, and she could trust her with complete confidence.
“Please continue teaching me. I will study hard again.”
“Are you going to fight again?”
"That may be true, but I think it'll be okay. Now that I know how to reconcile, I'll be able to fight more wisely than before."
A smart fight, huh? It seemed a bit awkward, but Erna didn't correct herself. Bjorn, who had been staring blankly at her, gave a cool smile in agreement.
“Bjorn, how about we make up some nicknames too?”
Encouraged by Erna's generous gaze, which seemed ready to grant any request, she quietly brought out the wind that had been swirling in her heart all day.
"Since you and I don't have nicknames that other people call us by, I think it would be nice if we could have our own names that only the two of us in this world call each other by. It's romantic, isn't it?"
“Just call my name.”
"Just think about it. Am I Ena? Or Nana?"
It was a name that came to mind after much thought, but Bjorn just chuckled.
“You are... Bibi?”
Erna stubbornly persisted in her opinion. She knew it didn't suit her at all, but she struggled to come up with any other nickname.
Bibi and Nana.
It was strange, but it didn't seem all that bad. Bjorn now frowned, even his smirk gone.
“Just call me a bastard, Erna.”
Erna, having decided to give up her nickname, began to chatter about the friendship she had developed with Dorothea. As she was finishing her story, the fireworks began.
Under the dazzling lights, Nana kissed Bibi.
A Midsummer Night's Dream just got a little more beautiful.
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