Chapter 16

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Translator: Harry Potta

Chapter: 16

Chapter Title: The Stolen Trophy

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Erna, who had fallen asleep only after nightfall, woke far earlier than usual. She had been tormented by chaotic nightmares. Though the dream had faded upon waking, the vivid memory of fleeing from something lingered.

It had seemed like a massive beast...

Staring blankly into space as she mulled over the dream, Erna suddenly bolted upright. Lighting the lamp on the bedside table bathed the darkness in warm light. The desk clock showed it wasn't even four yet.

Abandoning any hope of more sleep, Erna slipped out of bed. After dressing and neatly making the bed, dawn began to break.

Erna stood by the window, gazing down at the impeccably divided garden. She pictured the rural fields that should have been ablaze with blooming poppies at this time of year. The realization that tall stone buildings filled the space where lily ponds and orchards ought to be struck her as strangely off. Her frequent daydreams of Burford must have been nostalgia stirred by her encounter with Pavel.

As if steeling her weakening resolve, Erna turned from the window. Normally, she would craft flower arrangements while awaiting the household's morning stirrings, but today, no such motivation arose. It was around then, as pale dawn light seeped through the curtain gap, that the idea of a walk occurred to her.

Decision made, Erna moved briskly. She braided her hair into a single plait, donned a bonnet, and grabbed her gloves. Usually, she would choose lace ones adorned with beaded bracelets at the wrists, but today she opted for something else. She inwardly cursed the prince who had ruined her favorite pair.

Erna stroked the back of her hand with the plain, unadorned glove. It gave her the peculiar feeling that a sneeze was imminent.

She concluded it was best to make smaller bouquets from now on.

Fastening a large brooch to her shawl completed her preparations. Erna tiptoed out of her room. The viscountess had called going out without a maid unbecoming of a noble lady, but it was too early to wake Lisa. Besides, she now knew the area's layout well enough to walk alone without issue.

Having safely left the Hardy residence, Erna looked up at the starlit dawn sky and steadied her breath. The streets were still dim, but not as frightening as she'd imagined. If anything, she found this quieter than the bustling midday crowds. Free from prying eyes, she could finally take in the street scenes properly.

As she pondered writing to Pavel first, Erna began strolling slowly down dawn-lit Tara Avenue. She had the address from his letter from Burford, so visiting in person might work.

But wouldn't that put Pavel in a difficult spot?

The image of Pavel keeping his distance due to public scrutiny drained her enthusiasm. That's when she spotted the vagrant.

Glancing idly toward the clock tower, Erna let out a small scream and stumbled back. A man lay slumped over the railing of the large fountain in the plaza's center.

Startled and ready to flee, a foreboding hunch made her turn back. The man's arm dangled limply below the railing. He didn't look conscious at all.

Scanning the empty plaza, Erna cautiously approached the fountain. The tall blond man lay with one arm over his face. A strangely shaped golden object rolled near his feet.

She recalled a similar scene from a crime novel in the newspaper Lisa had brought recently—a detective examining a man's corpse attacked by thugs deep in the night.

Could this man have been assaulted too?

Terrified, Erna rushed to the vagrant.

"Excuse me, are you all right? Can you hear me?"

Standing a step away, Erna asked anxiously. The man didn't stir.

"Are you hurt? Shall I fetch help?"

As Erna closed the final step, the man lowered the arm covering his face.

Relief washed over her that he wasn't dead—but it was short-lived. Meeting his eyes, Erna bitterly regretted her needless concern and pity. The man sprawled on the ground was none other than the one she least wanted to encounter: Prince Biern.

Erna recoiled hastily, but Biern snatched her wrist even faster.

"Erna Hardy?"

He sighed, drawling her name slowly. Only then did Erna understand why the prince lay in the plaza like this. He reeked of liquor so potent it gave her a headache just inhaling it.

"Why is Miss Hardy here?"

He snickered, still gripping her wrist.

"Let go! Or I'll scream!"

"Why are you here? That's what I'm asking."

The more Erna struggled to free her wrist, the tighter Biern's grip became.

"This isn't Your Highness's private property—it's a public plaza. I can be here whenever I like!"

"...True enough."

Nodding, Biern slowly rose and perched on the fountain railing. Seeing Erna's flushed face before him, he chuckled again.

Stars shone, his mind was hazy, and there was Erna.

For a moment, he assumed it was a hallucination. No way would he encounter the Hardy lady at this hour, in this place. But the Erna before him was real, and suddenly, that struck him as unbearably amusing.

"Let go!"

As he tried to shake off the daze, Erna yelled fiercely once more.

"If you need help, I'll get someone. So please, just release my hand..."

"Hey, Miss Hardy. Do you really want to sell yourself to me?"

Biern asked in a low, husky voice, head bowed as he exhaled slowly. Erna, who had been thrashing her captured arm, finally stilled.

"...What did you say?"

Her innocent expression brought fresh laughter bubbling up. After all her talk of rational deals and playing the high-and-mighty, here she was chasing after him at dawn—it was endlessly ridiculous.

"Come to capitalize on the rumors? I get it, but standing here in the morning dew is a bit too blatant, don't you think, Miss Hardy?"

"You're drunk. This conversation is rude and unpleasant. Let go."

"If you want to deal, you haggle first."

Staggering to his feet, Biern faced her squarely.

"How much?"

His half-lidded gray eyes, gleaming with an oddly sober glint unfit for his inebriation, flashed in the paling dawn light.

"Right now, are you seriously... treating me like..."

Erna couldn't finish, managing only a groan of dismay. Meanwhile, Biern stepped closer.

"Name your price. Let's hear it."

Erna learned from the prince that overwhelming humiliation could numb all senses. She wanted to hurl insults, but no voice came. Her mind blanked, dulling even the pain in her wrist.

"I want no more of this insulting talk. Please let go."

It took her ages to speak. Biern, staring at the lightening horizon, slowly lowered his gaze to meet hers again. His eyes were ruthlessly indifferent.

"What if I don't?"

"Does Your Highness have no sense of propriety?"

Erna snapped indignantly.

"Do I seem like I do?"

Biern countered calmly, his lips curling in clear mockery. Erna choked, speechless.

How could such a utter wastrel have ever been this kingdom's crown prince?

The thought made her head spin in disbelief. Just as she wondered what he'd say next, Biern's eyes fluttered shut. By the time Erna sensed something amiss, his staggering body was already toppling.

Startled, Erna instinctively tried to support him, but holding up a drunken giant proved impossible. Tangled together, they tumbled onto the plaza stones.

Half-delirious, Erna realized she lay on the cold ground only after the brightening dawn sky filled her vision. The prince had collapsed atop her. His breath tickled her nape. His pressed body felt scorchingly hot, rigid, and menacing.

"H-Help! Somebody help me!"

Regaining her wits, Erna screamed desperately, thrashing with all her might. But no matter how she shoved, Biern didn't budge. To make matters worse, footsteps approached from afar.

"Get off! Go away!"

Erna pounded his shoulders and back with clenched fists. Biern's eyes flickered open briefly before his head drooped again. Even then, he kept her wrist gripped. As his hot, soft lips brushed her nape, Erna's face contorted as if she might burst into tears. The approaching footsteps grew clearer.

Erna whipped her head around in terror. Grabbing the fallen golden object was pure instinct. Her mind held only desperate urgency, no rational thought.

"Get away! Please, go! No!"

She flailed the rod wildly while kicking. Her dress hem rode up past her knees, but she had no spare attention for that.

"Help me!"

Her shrieks sharpening, Erna battered Biern's back mercilessly with the trophy. The pain piercing his drunken haze made his eyes snap open just as the newcomers halted nearby.

"Whoa, Your Highness!"

The grand ducal coachman and valet cried out at the bizarre scene.

Biern, grimacing deeply, rolled off with a long sigh. As he flopped onto the ground, Erna scrambled up, still clutching the antler trophy.

"Ha..."

His eyes finally focusing, Biern watched the scene and let out a scoff.

Shrugging off the valet's help, Erna backed away, panting. Tears brimmed in her eyes, but she didn't cry. What was there to cry about? She even glared at him fiercely.

While the coachman and valet lifted Biern, Erna spun and fled. Her frantic footsteps echoed clearly through the dawn quiet.

"Um... Are you all right, Your Highness?"

The valet ventured cautiously.

Biern closed his eyes without answering. When he opened them again, Erna was already far across the plaza. The ribbon at the end of her single braid fluttered tauntingly.

Before blacking out again, the last thing Biern saw was the golden deer antler still in Erna Hardy's grasp.

His stolen trophy gleamed in the fresh morning sun.