Side Story 23: Father's Premonition
It was a very long day.
Gazing at the sunset through the rattling carriage window, Erna let out a few hearty laughs. The sun was only just beginning to set, but it felt like days had passed.
Maybe the baby was like that, too.
Erna stroked her swollen belly as if asking a question. It occurred to her that her belly had grown quite a bit during her stay at Burford. Perhaps it was the abundance of food Madame Greve served at every meal.
Will you move again?
Erna, deeply curious, tapped here and there on her belly with her fingertips, as if knocking. She'd definitely felt faint movements the night before. So curious was it that she woke Bjorn, who was already asleep, and the baby fell silent again.
“Hello, baby.”
She whispered softly, hoping he might hear, but the child didn't respond. That's when she heard a soft chuckle. She turned her head and saw Bjorn, eyes downcast, drowsy.
He sighed again, smiled, and raised his hand, lightly stroking Erna's hair. It was a playful, affectionate touch.
Bjorn, who had been repeatedly exhaling deeply and slowly, closed his eyes again without saying a word. It seemed more like he was overcome by the alcohol than by his own will.
“Bjorn.”
"Yes."
When she called his name, he answered softly with his eyes closed. His voice was much softer than usual.
"Are you okay?"
Erna looked at her husband with a worried look. Bjorn nodded slowly, but the smell of alcohol was so strong that it made her frown.
“Don’t drink too much from now on.”
"Yes, this time too," Bjorn muttered a reply so softly it was barely audible.
“Please reduce the cigars a bit more.”
"Yeah again." A thin sigh escaped Erna's lips as she watched him respond dryly.
"Please, listen to me seriously. We have a baby now. What will our baby think of us when he sees this?"
“Burford’s finest man.”
As expected, the man, whom she expected to consistently respond with a somewhat evasive demeanor, gave an unexpectedly slow response. Erna, momentarily speechless, simply blinked, her expression blank. Meanwhile, Bjorn opened his eyes.
As the two gazed at each other in silence, the carriage turned onto a country road. The sun was now sinking below the horizon, and a purple darkness, originating from the sky, descended upon the harvested fields. The beautiful hues of the evening light illuminated the face of the impudent man, who raised his eyebrows and smiled faintly.
Don't laugh.
Despite scolding herself, Erna finally couldn't hold back her laughter. Bjorn chuckled softly, as if he'd expected this, and closed his eyes again.
“Yes. You're the best man in Burford, having been a bettor at every festival.”
Erna shook her head, but smiled. Excessive drinking was bad, but today was a festive day. Above all, it was for the sake of his wife and children, so she couldn't help but understand.
The thought of that flower cart made her chuckle again.
She was a little embarrassed, but still happy. Imagine the day she tells her child about today's festival and the flower cart, and that happiness grows even bigger.
You too?
Erna gently stroked her belly as if asking a question. But the child, truly asleep, didn't respond this time either.
“Erna.”
The name called, a voice tinged with a lingering smile, crossed the early evening darkness that filled the carriage. Erna, who had been patting his belly like a sleeping child, turned her head to face him without answering.
"I love you."
He slowly opened his half-closed eyes and whispered lazily.
“I love you, Erna.”
Looking at Erna, who was stunned by the unexpected words, Bjorn whispered again. His voice was so sweet that it made her feel intoxicated even though she hadn't consumed any alcohol.
Erna's drunken Prince, who had made this unexpected confession, soon collapsed into a deep sleep. His breathing, now regular and calm, filtered through the rattling of the carriage as it raced along the country road.
A shy smile spread across the corners of Erna's mouth as she stroked his slightly reddened cheek.
This man, for whom even a single word of love is truly precious, finds himself feeling a little more at ease after drinking.
When she realized that, it occurred to her that alcohol wasn't all that bad.
You should cut down, but you shouldn't tell them to stop completely.
Just as she was about to decide to show a little leniency, suddenly, Bjorn's head, still asleep, tilted over her shoulder.
Erna willingly offered one shoulder to Burford's finest man and closed her eyes. A smile filled with contentment filled her lips as she hummed the melody of the song that had filled the plaza where the festival was taking place, like a lullaby.
The carriage carrying the Dneister family, who had enjoyed a long day, rattled along the dusty country road toward Baden mansion.
Last night's dinner at the Baden mansion was truly magnificent. This was thanks to the dedicated efforts of Madame Greve, who had honed her skills and devoted herself to feeding Erna well.
Bjorn gazed at the dinner table, holding a glass filled with the wine he had obtained as a prize from this year's harvest festival.
As always, they were the only guests, but Baroness Baden had laid out the formal tableware and candlesticks befitting a banquet. She hadn't forgotten to wear her favorite evening dress, complete with the dangling brooches and corsages that were the country lady's favorite decorations. Bjorn was quite pleased with this sight, as it seemed to reveal the source of Erna's taste.
Erna and the Baroness mostly conversed, while Bjorn watched them with a calm gaze. For the first few days, she had been anxious about her granddaughter, but now she seemed much more at ease. Erna, too, reassured her grandmother with a relaxed smile.
“Thank you, Baroness.”
As Erna left for the kitchen to dissuade the nanny who was constantly bringing out food, Bjorn calmly said the greeting that had been on the tip of his tongue the whole time.
“I am always grateful to the Baroness for forgiving me, believing in me, and giving me another chance to live as Erna’s husband.”
Bjorn, who had just put down his glass, stood up straight and faced the old woman who resembled his wife.
"Not at all. I owe you a great debt, Grand Duke, for opening a new world to the poor child we locked away in this isolated house."
Baroness Baden smiled kindly, as if she had no knowledge of the events of the previous winter. Bjorn, sensing the old woman's compassionate intention to cover up his mistake, didn't bring it up any further.
“How about you come and stay at the Grand Duke’s residence until Erna gives birth?”
Bjorn made a sincere and polite proposal to Baroness Baden, who always yearned for and wondered about her distant granddaughter. But as always, the old-fashioned old woman, gentle and even more resolute, refused.
"I want to remain as distant and insignificant as possible in Erna's new life, Grand Duke. I consider this the last gift I can give her, as I will soon be leaving."
“Baroness.”
"Of course, I still have many desires. I need to see the Grand Duke and Erna's child, and I long for the day when he learns to walk and calls me Grand Grandmother. But no one in this world lives forever, so I just hope that when that day comes, the void I leave by Erna's side won't be too big or too obvious."
She continued speaking calmly, her face a warm smile like the firelight of a fireplace. Bjorn, who had been staring blankly at Baroness Baden, nodded as if to say he understood her meaning.
“Still, please come to Schwerin Palace when the child is born. Erna will be waiting for you, Grandmother.”
"Of course. Of course it should be. This old man waits every day for two children. A boy or a girl. How beautiful and lovely they will be. I imagine their faces dozens of times a day."
The smiling face of the Baroness of Baden resembled the granddaughter she loved so much.
"What do you think, Grand Duke? I wonder what a father's premonition is."
She took a small sip of wine, moistened her lips, and naturally changed the subject.
“My intuition changes several times a day and is not reliable.”
Bjorn gave a slightly bitter smile.
“But my wish that my child be born with the most beautiful brown hair in the world, like his mother, has never changed, Baroness.”
"Grand Duke..."
“Then I will tell that child that her brown hair is beautiful, that she is perfect just as she is, without needing to be anything else, and that I love her for that. So that the child can live her life loving that brown hair.”
Bjorn continued in a calm, unwavering voice. It was a story he desperately wanted to tell Baroness Baden, even if it was overly sentimental. He hoped it might ease the weight of regret she carried deep within her heart—the regret of words left unsaid to her young granddaughter.
It was a very long day.
Gazing at the sunset through the rattling carriage window, Erna let out a few hearty laughs. The sun was only just beginning to set, but it felt like days had passed.
Maybe the baby was like that, too.
Erna stroked her swollen belly as if asking a question. It occurred to her that her belly had grown quite a bit during her stay at Burford. Perhaps it was the abundance of food Madame Greve served at every meal.
Will you move again?
Erna, deeply curious, tapped here and there on her belly with her fingertips, as if knocking. She'd definitely felt faint movements the night before. So curious was it that she woke Bjorn, who was already asleep, and the baby fell silent again.
“Hello, baby.”
She whispered softly, hoping he might hear, but the child didn't respond. That's when she heard a soft chuckle. She turned her head and saw Bjorn, eyes downcast, drowsy.
He sighed again, smiled, and raised his hand, lightly stroking Erna's hair. It was a playful, affectionate touch.
Bjorn, who had been repeatedly exhaling deeply and slowly, closed his eyes again without saying a word. It seemed more like he was overcome by the alcohol than by his own will.
“Bjorn.”
"Yes."
When she called his name, he answered softly with his eyes closed. His voice was much softer than usual.
"Are you okay?"
Erna looked at her husband with a worried look. Bjorn nodded slowly, but the smell of alcohol was so strong that it made her frown.
“Don’t drink too much from now on.”
"Yes, this time too," Bjorn muttered a reply so softly it was barely audible.
“Please reduce the cigars a bit more.”
"Yeah again." A thin sigh escaped Erna's lips as she watched him respond dryly.
"Please, listen to me seriously. We have a baby now. What will our baby think of us when he sees this?"
“Burford’s finest man.”
As expected, the man, whom she expected to consistently respond with a somewhat evasive demeanor, gave an unexpectedly slow response. Erna, momentarily speechless, simply blinked, her expression blank. Meanwhile, Bjorn opened his eyes.
As the two gazed at each other in silence, the carriage turned onto a country road. The sun was now sinking below the horizon, and a purple darkness, originating from the sky, descended upon the harvested fields. The beautiful hues of the evening light illuminated the face of the impudent man, who raised his eyebrows and smiled faintly.
Don't laugh.
Despite scolding herself, Erna finally couldn't hold back her laughter. Bjorn chuckled softly, as if he'd expected this, and closed his eyes again.
“Yes. You're the best man in Burford, having been a bettor at every festival.”
Erna shook her head, but smiled. Excessive drinking was bad, but today was a festive day. Above all, it was for the sake of his wife and children, so she couldn't help but understand.
The thought of that flower cart made her chuckle again.
She was a little embarrassed, but still happy. Imagine the day she tells her child about today's festival and the flower cart, and that happiness grows even bigger.
You too?
Erna gently stroked her belly as if asking a question. But the child, truly asleep, didn't respond this time either.
“Erna.”
The name called, a voice tinged with a lingering smile, crossed the early evening darkness that filled the carriage. Erna, who had been patting his belly like a sleeping child, turned her head to face him without answering.
"I love you."
He slowly opened his half-closed eyes and whispered lazily.
“I love you, Erna.”
Looking at Erna, who was stunned by the unexpected words, Bjorn whispered again. His voice was so sweet that it made her feel intoxicated even though she hadn't consumed any alcohol.
Erna's drunken Prince, who had made this unexpected confession, soon collapsed into a deep sleep. His breathing, now regular and calm, filtered through the rattling of the carriage as it raced along the country road.
A shy smile spread across the corners of Erna's mouth as she stroked his slightly reddened cheek.
This man, for whom even a single word of love is truly precious, finds himself feeling a little more at ease after drinking.
When she realized that, it occurred to her that alcohol wasn't all that bad.
You should cut down, but you shouldn't tell them to stop completely.
Just as she was about to decide to show a little leniency, suddenly, Bjorn's head, still asleep, tilted over her shoulder.
Erna willingly offered one shoulder to Burford's finest man and closed her eyes. A smile filled with contentment filled her lips as she hummed the melody of the song that had filled the plaza where the festival was taking place, like a lullaby.
The carriage carrying the Dneister family, who had enjoyed a long day, rattled along the dusty country road toward Baden mansion.
***
Last night's dinner at the Baden mansion was truly magnificent. This was thanks to the dedicated efforts of Madame Greve, who had honed her skills and devoted herself to feeding Erna well.
Bjorn gazed at the dinner table, holding a glass filled with the wine he had obtained as a prize from this year's harvest festival.
As always, they were the only guests, but Baroness Baden had laid out the formal tableware and candlesticks befitting a banquet. She hadn't forgotten to wear her favorite evening dress, complete with the dangling brooches and corsages that were the country lady's favorite decorations. Bjorn was quite pleased with this sight, as it seemed to reveal the source of Erna's taste.
Erna and the Baroness mostly conversed, while Bjorn watched them with a calm gaze. For the first few days, she had been anxious about her granddaughter, but now she seemed much more at ease. Erna, too, reassured her grandmother with a relaxed smile.
“Thank you, Baroness.”
As Erna left for the kitchen to dissuade the nanny who was constantly bringing out food, Bjorn calmly said the greeting that had been on the tip of his tongue the whole time.
“I am always grateful to the Baroness for forgiving me, believing in me, and giving me another chance to live as Erna’s husband.”
Bjorn, who had just put down his glass, stood up straight and faced the old woman who resembled his wife.
"Not at all. I owe you a great debt, Grand Duke, for opening a new world to the poor child we locked away in this isolated house."
Baroness Baden smiled kindly, as if she had no knowledge of the events of the previous winter. Bjorn, sensing the old woman's compassionate intention to cover up his mistake, didn't bring it up any further.
“How about you come and stay at the Grand Duke’s residence until Erna gives birth?”
Bjorn made a sincere and polite proposal to Baroness Baden, who always yearned for and wondered about her distant granddaughter. But as always, the old-fashioned old woman, gentle and even more resolute, refused.
"I want to remain as distant and insignificant as possible in Erna's new life, Grand Duke. I consider this the last gift I can give her, as I will soon be leaving."
“Baroness.”
"Of course, I still have many desires. I need to see the Grand Duke and Erna's child, and I long for the day when he learns to walk and calls me Grand Grandmother. But no one in this world lives forever, so I just hope that when that day comes, the void I leave by Erna's side won't be too big or too obvious."
She continued speaking calmly, her face a warm smile like the firelight of a fireplace. Bjorn, who had been staring blankly at Baroness Baden, nodded as if to say he understood her meaning.
“Still, please come to Schwerin Palace when the child is born. Erna will be waiting for you, Grandmother.”
"Of course. Of course it should be. This old man waits every day for two children. A boy or a girl. How beautiful and lovely they will be. I imagine their faces dozens of times a day."
The smiling face of the Baroness of Baden resembled the granddaughter she loved so much.
"What do you think, Grand Duke? I wonder what a father's premonition is."
She took a small sip of wine, moistened her lips, and naturally changed the subject.
“My intuition changes several times a day and is not reliable.”
Bjorn gave a slightly bitter smile.
“But my wish that my child be born with the most beautiful brown hair in the world, like his mother, has never changed, Baroness.”
"Grand Duke..."
“Then I will tell that child that her brown hair is beautiful, that she is perfect just as she is, without needing to be anything else, and that I love her for that. So that the child can live her life loving that brown hair.”
Bjorn continued in a calm, unwavering voice. It was a story he desperately wanted to tell Baroness Baden, even if it was overly sentimental. He hoped it might ease the weight of regret she carried deep within her heart—the regret of words left unsaid to her young granddaughter.
Baroness Baden simply stared at him without answering. Just as tears welled up in her blue eyes, Erna, who had barely managed to ward off the nanny, returned.
“Grandma! What’s wrong?”
Erna screamed in surprise at the sight of tears streaming down Baroness Baden's wrinkled cheeks.
“No, it’s nothing, honey.”
She hurriedly took out a handkerchief and began wiping away her tears. Erna, at a loss as to what to do, looked at Bjorn with a face full of bewilderment.
“Bjorn, what the hell is going on?”
"Well."
It was clear that something had happened between the two, but Bjorn just smiled leisurely.
“I've been talking behind your back.”
As she frowned at the absurd answer, both he and Baroness Baden burst out laughing. Things were becoming increasingly baffling.
“Yes, Erna. That’s right.”
Even her grandmother, whom she trusted, smiled and said something strange.
“I've been talking behind your back with the Grand Duke.”
Even with wet eyes, she smiled brightly.
Surprisingly, her face looked very happy.
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