Chapter 10

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Translator: Harry Potta

Chapter: 10

Chapter Title: A Very Bad Person

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"Miss, have you ever been to that beach over there? The sunset from there is absolutely beautiful. Shall we go this evening? No, wait. You haven't fully recovered yet, so the night air probably isn't good for you. I'm sorry. I got all excited by myself."

A shadow of worry suddenly crossed Lisa's face, which had been bouncing with excitement. Erna, who had been listening attentively to her chatter as if savoring a pleasant melody, stopped in her tracks and looked up.

"I'm fine now, Lisa. It doesn't hurt anymore."

"Really? Your face is still so pale. Ah, but Miss, you've always had skin as white as snow."

Lisa tilted her head and burst into cheerful laughter. It was the kind of smile that could brighten anyone's mood just by looking at it.

Erna began walking again at a steady pace, following Lisa, who had resumed explaining the city's landmarks. It was still early morning, so most shops were closed, leaving the streets blissfully empty. Thanks to that, Erna could enjoy a peaceful stroll for the first time in a while.

After returning from the royal ball, Erna had been bedridden for three full days. Even the viscountess, who had dismissed it as malingering at first, grew frantic when the fever showed no signs of breaking and hastily summoned a doctor. She wasn't particularly frail, but she had never been this weak before. It seemed her body couldn't keep up with the sudden change in her life.

Can I really hold out for a whole year like this?

Just thinking about that terrifying ball made her heart race involuntarily. She had tried explaining to the doctor the pain of that day—when her vision had gone completely white and she couldn't breathe—but all she got was a nonchalant diagnosis of common neurosis. It would get better once she got used to it. She just needed to relax.

Erna doubted she could, but she nodded obediently anyway. She had already made the deal and received her payment. Now, she had a duty to play the role of Lady Hardy of House Hardy properly for a year. For the honor of her grandfather and grandmother, she had to do it.

"Hello, Lady Hardy!"

Just as she steeled her resolve once more, a booming voice rang out. Erna reflexively hunched her shoulders and scanned her surroundings. From the terrace of a lavish building behind the fountain, some unfamiliar man was waving enthusiastically.

"Good morning!"

The man raised his voice again in greeting to Erna, who stood there bewildered. The gazes of the men seated at the table behind him all turned toward her in unison.

Erna, peering at them intently, let out an involuntary gasp and stumbled back. Her eyes met those of a blond man lounging with his chin propped lazily on his hand.

The one familiar face—the Poison Mushroom Prince.

Well, well.

A hollow chuckle escaped Prince Biern Dynister's lips as he watched Erna Hardy beat a hasty retreat. Lately, he found himself smirking more often. All thanks to that bizarre "item" the swindled viscount had put up for grabs.

Erna had given an awkward greeting toward Peter before ducking behind her maid. Well, technically, the maid had stepped in front of her. After some flustered fumbling, Erna spun around and fled in earnest. The frills and lace billowing with her hurried steps only made her desperate escape look all the more absurd.

"That maid must be the hellhound itself."

Peter shook his head with a wry smile and turned away.

"Still, it's a small comfort that she ran away even after seeing you, Biern. So my face isn't the problem."

"True enough."

"They really do seem to have no connection whatsoever. So, did Biern get used by Lady Hardy? As a prop to draw attention at the ball?"

"Even the grand duke has days like this. How does it feel, Biern? To be used and discarded by a woman?"

The group at the table, still hungover from last night's drinking, grinned foolishly.

Biern snorted and stood up, letting his actions speak for him. It was his usual nonchalant demeanor. His companions, who had been watching him warily, finally breathed a sigh of relief.

"I still can't figure that guy out."

Peter muttered in exasperation, watching Biern's retreating figure. The others nodded in silent agreement.

A charming playboy, lighthearted in everything—that was how people described Biern from afar, and it wasn't wrong. But up close, Prince Biern Dynister was an enigma, impossible to read. Especially when he smiled so casually.

"Damn it. I got scared for nothing!"

Peter's belated cry of indignation carried on the morning breeze across the square.

The carriage carrying Biern from the club sped toward Schwerin Palace.

Biern leaned deeply into his seat, gazing out the window. Leaving the bustling district of shops and offices behind, the carriage soon entered a wide road along the riverbank. Shadows from the tall roadside trees lining both sides flickered over the speeding vehicle.

Biern stared at the shifting light and shadows with eyes heavy with faint drowsiness and fatigue. The deepening green of the trees made the arrival of summer feel real. Days like this, so serene, wouldn't last much longer.

The royal family was due to arrive in Schwerin by the weekend. Their summer palace was within the grand duke's estate grounds. Even if it was far enough to require a carriage, they were still within the same walls. Come summer season, Biern would inevitably get dragged into tedious, bothersome affairs.

It was one of the duties that came with his position as grand duke.

While Biern briefly closed his eyes, the carriage crossed the bridge over the Arbit River and entered the palace approach. Passing through the grand, ornate gates emblazoned with the royal crest, a vast garden laid out in geometric patterns unfolded before them. The sound of fountains dotted throughout carried on the fresh breeze.

Biern brushed back his tousled hair from the wind and opened his eyes. The grand duke's residence at the southern tip of the city, where the Arbit River met the Schwerin Bay, was sometimes called the Palace of Waters. It owed its nickname to its commanding views of both river and sea, the numerous fountains, and the canals linking their streams through the gardens.

"Welcome back, Your Highness."

As the carriage came to a stop and the door opened, Mrs. Fitz's greeting came without its usual reprimand. Biern stepped down slowly and gave her a questioning look.

"We have a guest."

Mrs. Fitz, catching her breath, spoke with evident discomfort.

"It's... Princess Gladys. She's waiting in the study."

The added explanation halted Biern just as he entered the central hall.

With his hands in his trouser pockets, Biern slowly raised his head. The light from the massive chandelier, which never dimmed, pierced his eyes.

"I'm sorry, Your Highness. It's just that we..."

"I know."

Biern cut off Mrs. Fitz's words dismissively. As he ascended the red-carpeted stairs, no trace of turmoil showed on him.

"Bring some tea. Strong."

He issued the calm order to Mrs. Fitz, who followed with a worried expression. His lips curved softly, but his eyes held no emotion.

"Yes, right away."

Swallowing the many words she wanted to say, she turned back. Biern disappeared beyond the study door.

"Shouldn't I at least apologize?"

Erna posed the question cautiously once more.

"Apologize for what? You don't need to, Miss."

Lisa's response was even firmer this time.

Erna flinched and fidgeted with her teacup, lost in thought.

The blunder she had committed against the prince at the ball weighed on her mind, and she wanted to apologize, but she hadn't found the right moment. He was always surrounded by people, and she couldn't muster the courage to approach.

Even if he had been alone, the result might have been the same, Erna thought, staring down at her fidgeting fingertips. Just meeting the prince's eyes brought back that day's events, making her heart plummet.

How could she face him after making such a fool of herself right in front of him?

No matter how firmly she steeled herself, she always ended up fleeing in a panic. And inevitably, that hideous debutante dress came to mind, along with the man's calm gaze sweeping over her near-naked form without a hint of reaction.

What a vulgar place this big city was!

"Still, I think I should apologize, Lisa. He must have been put in a really difficult spot because of me."

After a moment of reflection, Erna arrived at the same conclusion. She couldn't summon the courage, but ignoring her wrongdoing felt too cowardly.

"Ugh, this won't do. Just wait a moment, Miss."

Lisa jumped to her feet and hurried out of the bedroom. She soon returned, cradling a large box.

"It's a gift for you, Miss. You have to return it when you're done reading, though. I'd give it to you outright, but unfortunately, it's something the maids pooled their money to buy together."

To the puzzled Erna, Lisa spoke in an exaggeratedly serious tone.

"This to me? Why?"

"You need to study. Nothing beats this for learning high society. It has all sorts of gossip."

Lisa first handed Erna the magazine on top of the box. It was a weekly featuring an in-depth article on that poison mushroom, Prince Biern.

Erna took it hesitantly. Flipping through a few pages, she came to ones riddled with holes.

"These holes..."

"Ah, it's those damn—no, bad maids who cut out the photos. They all curse him out, but whenever his picture appears, they do this."

Mid-rant about the immoral maids, Lisa suddenly paled and stood up.

"Study up, Miss! I have to run an errand for Madam!"

Before Erna could respond, Lisa bolted from the room.

Left alone, Erna stared dazedly at the weekly on her lap. Even a quick skim revealed it was written in a sensational, gossipy style.

She wrestled between the thought that consuming others' lives like this was wrong and an irresistible curiosity, but in the end, she turned the next page. Despite the gaps from cut-out photos, she could grasp the article's overall context.

As her tea grew cold on the table, Erna read through the magazines methodically. Scandals and incidents involving Schwerin's high society figures. Flashy ads, horoscopes, love advice. They brimmed with all sorts of trivia. It was a shocking world, utterly unlike the rural magazines she occasionally bought in town.

By the time she set down the last weekly, Erna had a rough sense of Schwerin's troublemakers. Overwhelmingly, it was that poison mushroom prince, Biern Dynister.

Not all stories in such rags were true, but setting that aside, his life was far beyond what Erna could comprehend. Especially since he was a father who had abandoned his own child.

After divorcing Princess Gladys, the prince had never once met his son. The child hadn't even lived a few years before succumbing to illness, yet the prince had skipped even the poor boy's funeral.

Gazing quietly at the stack of magazines, Erna bit her lip without realizing it. Judging someone she barely knew was rash, but her heart had already tipped the scales.

The prince seemed like a bad man. A very bad man.