Side Story 26. Efficiency and Probability
Baby Dniester Bibi and Nana came into this world during the season when white petals flutter in the wind like snow.
When news of the Grand Duchess's labor reached the royal palace in Berne, the capital of Letzen, Bjorn was having lunch with the royal family there. Except for the Grand Duchess of Schwerin, who was in labor, the entire royal family was gathered to discuss the Crown Prince's wedding, which was scheduled for the following month.
“Already? I remember the doctor saying the due date was next week.”
After a moment of daze, Bjorn furrowed his brow and questioned the servant who had delivered the news. The veins and joints stood out clearly on the back of his hand, where he was clutching the napkin.
"The due date could be brought forward or delayed. The new royal twins seem to have a very short temper, just like their father."
Isabelle Dneister first quelled her son's anger toward the innocent attending doctor. The soft spring sunlight illuminated Bjorn's face, still struggling to grasp reality.
"Go ahead, Bjorn. There's nothing more important than this."
Uncharacteristically excited, Philippe Dneister was the first to push his son's back. Words of agreement followed from all sides.
Bjorn held the glass of water with his pale hand, where he had placed the napkin, took a sip, moistened his lips, and slowly stood up.
As Bjorn, buttoning his jacket and bowing politely, turned around, a commotion erupted everywhere. Soon after, Duchess Arsene also left the lunch table.
“Come to think of it, today is Wednesday.”
As she followed Bjorn, leaving behind a cryptic message, another man, Leonid Dneister, stood up. His fiancée, Rosette, was with him.
“Let’s also go to Schwerin.”
“Have you forgotten that this meeting was arranged to discuss your marriage?”
Although complaints were heard from all sides, Leonied and Rosette stubbornly asked for understanding and followed Duchess Arsene.
With the day's main characters gone, the number of deserters at the lunch table steadily increased. The Crown Prince's wedding, after all, would proceed smoothly according to established etiquette and procedure. The birth of new life would bring even greater joy to this dull spring afternoon.
“Isabelle, shouldn’t we go too at this point?”
The King, whose face was as anxious as his own son's, asked a question indirectly. Isabel Dneister, who had been staring blankly at her husband, nodded in defeat.
“If that is Your Majesty’s will, then I must follow it.”
The royal family has invaded.
That was all Lisa could think as she watched the procession of magnificent carriages racing towards her.
What the heck is this, when the sudden onset of labor pains has already left me feeling unsettled?
While the servants of the Grand Duchess's residence were in disarray, Prince Bjorn appeared. Startled by the sudden turn of events, Madame Fitz and Lisa, who were in the lobby, were the first to greet him.
The Prince, whom she had expected to rush in at a frenzy, was surprisingly calm. His calm tone and his gait were so cool. Lisa felt a pang of sadness.
First, Bjorn went to the delivery room and carefully examined the doctors, midwives, and nurses on standby to assist the Grand Duchess in childbirth. A servant, having received a message to contact the Royal Hospital in case of an emergency, quickly left Schwerin Palace. The Prince also directed him to greet the uninvited royal guests who had intruded upon him and to assign servants to attend to them. It was a gentleman's courtesy to stay away from his wife's delivery room, and Erna had firmly established this rule, so his movements were restricted to the threshold of the delivery room.
Bjorn Dneister moved with such calmness, establishing order in the world under his jurisdiction. At first glance, he seemed simply absorbed in his own work, a man whose wife was currently in labor, making it hard to believe he was the husband.
“It’s definitely Dniester.”
Duchess Arsene defined her cool grandson's attitude in one word.
“It’s almost time to start.”
Not long after she prophesied, Bjorn began pacing anxiously in front of the parlor window. Having done his part perfectly, all that remained was to wait. It was this sense of helplessness that drove the wolves of Dneister madder than anything else.
“Watch carefully, Leo. This is your future.”
Duchess Arsene made a mischievous joke to Leonid, who was looking at his twin brother with a frown.
“If he even shed tears at the last moment, he would be the perfect son of Philip III. Isn’t that right?”
Of course, he did not forget to give appropriate attention to his son-in-law, the King.
Philippe Dneister, who was about to refute her, opted for silence, a minimal attempt to save face. The only time he'd shed tears at the birth of a child was when he had the twin Princes, his first child. And it just so happened that the person who caught him doing so was Duchess Arsene.
Even as he paced, unable to stand still for a moment, Bjorn maintained a perfectly upright and graceful posture and gait. He resembled a leading wolf leisurely inspecting his territory. Even if in reality he was merely a sad wolf, consumed by worry for his wife.
It was in the evening, half a day after the labor began, that Madam Fitz, who had been in the delivery room, came running, accompanied by the sound of urgent footsteps.
The clatter of Bjorn Dneister's heels, already on the verge of becoming neurotic, all eyes were fixed on her. Bjorn, too, stopped walking and turned his head.
“Her Highness gave birth to a beautiful young lady and a young master.”
She bowed politely and then spoke in an agitated voice.
“Congratulations, Your Highness.”
“Hello, Bjorn.”
Erna was the first to greet Bjorn, who had stopped a few steps away from the bed. She looked so exhausted that it wouldn't have been surprising if she collapsed at any moment, but Erna's smile was as beautiful and warm as ever.
Bjorn loosened the knot on his tie slightly, closing the gap in the last few steps. The moment he heard the news that labor had begun, his consciousness, which had been paralyzed, finally began to return. His previously calm breathing became unsteady, and the emotional rift that began to ripple through him quickly became a turbulent wave that engulfed him.
Bjorn sat down at the bedside and immediately embraced Erna. He only took a few slow steps, but his breathing was ragged, as if he had run a long distance.
"It's okay."
Erna stroked Bjorn's back slowly, as if soothing a frightened beast.
Bjorn, who had been quietly gazing into Erna's eyes, finally breathed a long sigh of relief. A faint tremble swept through his hands, which held Erna's pale face. The fading light of the setting sun illuminated his eyes, now tinged with a faint crimson.
Just as the two were able to look at each other and smile, Lisa approached, carrying a baby wrapped in a blanket. First, she placed the firstborn, Lord Bibi, in Bjorn's arms, then placed Lady Nana in Erna's arms. It was a perfect combination that naturally satisfied their hearts.
Bjorn stared at the son he'd accidentally found himself holding with narrowed eyes. He didn't have the discerning eye to distinguish a newborn's face, but he could tell that his son had hair the same color as his own. And he knew that the daughter in Erna's arms had the most beautiful brown hair in the world.
The clear evening darkness enveloped the Grand Duke and his wife, who awkwardly embraced their twin siblings, who bore a striking resemblance to their parents. Their gazes, staring deeply into each other, were as serene and sweet as the spring breeze, laden with the fragrance of blooming flowers.
Erna gave birth to Bjorn.
That was the opinion of those who saw Frederick Dneister.
Erna also gave birth to Erna.
The same was true for those who saw Ariel Dneister.
But when the twins opened their eyes, the ratings changed a little.
Frederick, with platinum blonde hair like his father, inherited his mother's blue eyes, while Ariel, with brown hair like her mother, had her father's gray eyes. Their features were exquisite, but one thing was certain: both children had skillfully selected the most beautiful features of their parents to resemble them.
As expected, the efficient Dniester.
This is how the financier of Letzen described Bjorn Dneister, who had a son and a daughter, siblings who resembled their parents in harmony.
As expected, the Dniester of probability.
The odds of twins being a boy and a girl were slim, and the odds of twins being a boy and a girl were even slimmer. The Schwerin social club card room offered such a comment about the twins, but Bjorn Dneister paid no attention.
“Of all the babies I’ve ever seen in my life, these are the prettiest!”
The reaction of the old ladies who saw the twin siblings of the Grand Duchess, Frederick and Ariel, generally called by their royal title in court, was enthusiastic even today.
The Grand Duchess listened with a shy smile to the compliments showered on her two children. She tried to maintain a composed expression, but her sparkling eyes and flushed cheeks clearly revealed her pride.
Duchess Arsene, who had been quietly watching Erna, put down her teacup with a cheerful smile. Bjorn, sitting across from her, immediately turned his gaze to his wife.
As the old ladies, who had sent her warm cheers, departed, Erna approached her next relatives. The Grand Duchess, holding her baby, approached and remained silent, and without fail, the people showed their interest in the twins and showered them with compliments. It was his wife, who was no stranger to quiet attention, showing off her beautiful babies.
“Your wife is very excited.”
“That makes sense.”
Bjorn answered nonchalantly. He detested foolish parents who flaunted their beautiful children everywhere, but his twins were exceptional in that they were beautiful babies who had achieved objectivity.
Duchess Arsene, who had been quietly watching Bjorn, nodded with a sigh of disbelief.
“With so many people here today, Erna must be very busy.”
The wedding of the Grand Duke's twins and the Crown Prince, and even the National Foundation Day celebrations—every May in Letzen was a celebration, a series of events that felt like a festival. Today, the royal family gathered at the palace in the capital for the annual Balcony Greeting, a royal tradition held every National Foundation Day. By now, the area outside the palace would be teeming with people eager to catch a glimpse of the Grand Duke's twins and the new Crown Prince and his wife.
“Come to think of it, this is your first year together as a couple.”
"Yes."
Bjorn answered coolly.
He visited Burford on the first anniversary of his marriage, and last year, around this time, he was unable to attend the royal event due to a visit to Lorca. His wife, who likes to attach great significance to the occasion, had been losing sleep for several nights preparing for this day.
After a brief chat with his grandmother, Bjorn rose from his seat and began to approach his wife and twins. It was time to step out onto the balcony, where Letzenian was waiting.
Baby Dniester Bibi and Nana came into this world during the season when white petals flutter in the wind like snow.
When news of the Grand Duchess's labor reached the royal palace in Berne, the capital of Letzen, Bjorn was having lunch with the royal family there. Except for the Grand Duchess of Schwerin, who was in labor, the entire royal family was gathered to discuss the Crown Prince's wedding, which was scheduled for the following month.
“Already? I remember the doctor saying the due date was next week.”
After a moment of daze, Bjorn furrowed his brow and questioned the servant who had delivered the news. The veins and joints stood out clearly on the back of his hand, where he was clutching the napkin.
"The due date could be brought forward or delayed. The new royal twins seem to have a very short temper, just like their father."
Isabelle Dneister first quelled her son's anger toward the innocent attending doctor. The soft spring sunlight illuminated Bjorn's face, still struggling to grasp reality.
"Go ahead, Bjorn. There's nothing more important than this."
Uncharacteristically excited, Philippe Dneister was the first to push his son's back. Words of agreement followed from all sides.
Bjorn held the glass of water with his pale hand, where he had placed the napkin, took a sip, moistened his lips, and slowly stood up.
As Bjorn, buttoning his jacket and bowing politely, turned around, a commotion erupted everywhere. Soon after, Duchess Arsene also left the lunch table.
“Come to think of it, today is Wednesday.”
As she followed Bjorn, leaving behind a cryptic message, another man, Leonid Dneister, stood up. His fiancée, Rosette, was with him.
“Let’s also go to Schwerin.”
“Have you forgotten that this meeting was arranged to discuss your marriage?”
Although complaints were heard from all sides, Leonied and Rosette stubbornly asked for understanding and followed Duchess Arsene.
With the day's main characters gone, the number of deserters at the lunch table steadily increased. The Crown Prince's wedding, after all, would proceed smoothly according to established etiquette and procedure. The birth of new life would bring even greater joy to this dull spring afternoon.
“Isabelle, shouldn’t we go too at this point?”
The King, whose face was as anxious as his own son's, asked a question indirectly. Isabel Dneister, who had been staring blankly at her husband, nodded in defeat.
“If that is Your Majesty’s will, then I must follow it.”
***
The royal family has invaded.
That was all Lisa could think as she watched the procession of magnificent carriages racing towards her.
What the heck is this, when the sudden onset of labor pains has already left me feeling unsettled?
While the servants of the Grand Duchess's residence were in disarray, Prince Bjorn appeared. Startled by the sudden turn of events, Madame Fitz and Lisa, who were in the lobby, were the first to greet him.
The Prince, whom she had expected to rush in at a frenzy, was surprisingly calm. His calm tone and his gait were so cool. Lisa felt a pang of sadness.
First, Bjorn went to the delivery room and carefully examined the doctors, midwives, and nurses on standby to assist the Grand Duchess in childbirth. A servant, having received a message to contact the Royal Hospital in case of an emergency, quickly left Schwerin Palace. The Prince also directed him to greet the uninvited royal guests who had intruded upon him and to assign servants to attend to them. It was a gentleman's courtesy to stay away from his wife's delivery room, and Erna had firmly established this rule, so his movements were restricted to the threshold of the delivery room.
Bjorn Dneister moved with such calmness, establishing order in the world under his jurisdiction. At first glance, he seemed simply absorbed in his own work, a man whose wife was currently in labor, making it hard to believe he was the husband.
“It’s definitely Dniester.”
Duchess Arsene defined her cool grandson's attitude in one word.
“It’s almost time to start.”
Not long after she prophesied, Bjorn began pacing anxiously in front of the parlor window. Having done his part perfectly, all that remained was to wait. It was this sense of helplessness that drove the wolves of Dneister madder than anything else.
“Watch carefully, Leo. This is your future.”
Duchess Arsene made a mischievous joke to Leonid, who was looking at his twin brother with a frown.
“If he even shed tears at the last moment, he would be the perfect son of Philip III. Isn’t that right?”
Of course, he did not forget to give appropriate attention to his son-in-law, the King.
Philippe Dneister, who was about to refute her, opted for silence, a minimal attempt to save face. The only time he'd shed tears at the birth of a child was when he had the twin Princes, his first child. And it just so happened that the person who caught him doing so was Duchess Arsene.
He glanced over his shoulder and watched his son repeating his steps.
It was in the evening, half a day after the labor began, that Madam Fitz, who had been in the delivery room, came running, accompanied by the sound of urgent footsteps.
The clatter of Bjorn Dneister's heels, already on the verge of becoming neurotic, all eyes were fixed on her. Bjorn, too, stopped walking and turned his head.
“Her Highness gave birth to a beautiful young lady and a young master.”
She bowed politely and then spoke in an agitated voice.
“Congratulations, Your Highness.”
***
“Hello, Bjorn.”
Erna was the first to greet Bjorn, who had stopped a few steps away from the bed. She looked so exhausted that it wouldn't have been surprising if she collapsed at any moment, but Erna's smile was as beautiful and warm as ever.
Bjorn loosened the knot on his tie slightly, closing the gap in the last few steps. The moment he heard the news that labor had begun, his consciousness, which had been paralyzed, finally began to return. His previously calm breathing became unsteady, and the emotional rift that began to ripple through him quickly became a turbulent wave that engulfed him.
Bjorn sat down at the bedside and immediately embraced Erna. He only took a few slow steps, but his breathing was ragged, as if he had run a long distance.
"It's okay."
Erna stroked Bjorn's back slowly, as if soothing a frightened beast.
Bjorn, who had been quietly gazing into Erna's eyes, finally breathed a long sigh of relief. A faint tremble swept through his hands, which held Erna's pale face. The fading light of the setting sun illuminated his eyes, now tinged with a faint crimson.
Just as the two were able to look at each other and smile, Lisa approached, carrying a baby wrapped in a blanket. First, she placed the firstborn, Lord Bibi, in Bjorn's arms, then placed Lady Nana in Erna's arms. It was a perfect combination that naturally satisfied their hearts.
Bjorn stared at the son he'd accidentally found himself holding with narrowed eyes. He didn't have the discerning eye to distinguish a newborn's face, but he could tell that his son had hair the same color as his own. And he knew that the daughter in Erna's arms had the most beautiful brown hair in the world.
The clear evening darkness enveloped the Grand Duke and his wife, who awkwardly embraced their twin siblings, who bore a striking resemblance to their parents. Their gazes, staring deeply into each other, were as serene and sweet as the spring breeze, laden with the fragrance of blooming flowers.
***
Erna gave birth to Bjorn.
That was the opinion of those who saw Frederick Dneister.
Erna also gave birth to Erna.
The same was true for those who saw Ariel Dneister.
But when the twins opened their eyes, the ratings changed a little.
Frederick, with platinum blonde hair like his father, inherited his mother's blue eyes, while Ariel, with brown hair like her mother, had her father's gray eyes. Their features were exquisite, but one thing was certain: both children had skillfully selected the most beautiful features of their parents to resemble them.
As expected, the efficient Dniester.
This is how the financier of Letzen described Bjorn Dneister, who had a son and a daughter, siblings who resembled their parents in harmony.
As expected, the Dniester of probability.
The odds of twins being a boy and a girl were slim, and the odds of twins being a boy and a girl were even slimmer. The Schwerin social club card room offered such a comment about the twins, but Bjorn Dneister paid no attention.
“Of all the babies I’ve ever seen in my life, these are the prettiest!”
The reaction of the old ladies who saw the twin siblings of the Grand Duchess, Frederick and Ariel, generally called by their royal title in court, was enthusiastic even today.
The Grand Duchess listened with a shy smile to the compliments showered on her two children. She tried to maintain a composed expression, but her sparkling eyes and flushed cheeks clearly revealed her pride.
Duchess Arsene, who had been quietly watching Erna, put down her teacup with a cheerful smile. Bjorn, sitting across from her, immediately turned his gaze to his wife.
As the old ladies, who had sent her warm cheers, departed, Erna approached her next relatives. The Grand Duchess, holding her baby, approached and remained silent, and without fail, the people showed their interest in the twins and showered them with compliments. It was his wife, who was no stranger to quiet attention, showing off her beautiful babies.
“Your wife is very excited.”
“That makes sense.”
Bjorn answered nonchalantly. He detested foolish parents who flaunted their beautiful children everywhere, but his twins were exceptional in that they were beautiful babies who had achieved objectivity.
Duchess Arsene, who had been quietly watching Bjorn, nodded with a sigh of disbelief.
“With so many people here today, Erna must be very busy.”
The wedding of the Grand Duke's twins and the Crown Prince, and even the National Foundation Day celebrations—every May in Letzen was a celebration, a series of events that felt like a festival. Today, the royal family gathered at the palace in the capital for the annual Balcony Greeting, a royal tradition held every National Foundation Day. By now, the area outside the palace would be teeming with people eager to catch a glimpse of the Grand Duke's twins and the new Crown Prince and his wife.
“Come to think of it, this is your first year together as a couple.”
"Yes."
Bjorn answered coolly.
He visited Burford on the first anniversary of his marriage, and last year, around this time, he was unable to attend the royal event due to a visit to Lorca. His wife, who likes to attach great significance to the occasion, had been losing sleep for several nights preparing for this day.
After a brief chat with his grandmother, Bjorn rose from his seat and began to approach his wife and twins. It was time to step out onto the balcony, where Letzenian was waiting.
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