Chapter 20

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Translator: Harry Potta

Chapter: 20

Chapter Title: Your Lost Crown

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The woman moved as if walking on water. Cautiously and softly, like the gentle ripples stirred on the surface by the wind on a calm day.

Gazing down at Erna, who was concentrating as if successfully completing this waltz were the mission of her lifetime, Biern felt a vague sense of emptiness. If all this was calculated acting, then this woman would be the finest actress on the entire continent.

Well.

His eyes met Gladys's, who was dancing with another partner yet staring only at him. Biern wore a faint, self-mocking smile.

That princess used to be even more innocently naive than this. At least on the surface.

His thoughts reached that point, and Biern's mood lightened considerably.

On the stage drawing the largest audience, he'd created the most convincing picture. His summer would pass peacefully now. The sensational articles in cheap tabloids and the gossipmongers eagerly tearing into him with delight were nothing but trivial, meaningless nuisances.

Biern lowered his gaze back to Erna. She was still pouring all her focus into dancing without a single mistake. Even in her rigid tension, she moved so lightly—likely because her frame was so small and delicate.

His eyes traced her cheeks flushed with a fresh rosy tint, down her slender nape, pausing briefly above her straight collarbone. Her skin was exceptionally pale and clear, almost like the surface of fine porcelain.

His gaze lingered for a moment on the blue vein faintly visible beneath, then traveled back up. Her pursed lips, the bridge of her nose, and the large, clear eyes holding him captive.

Only as the dance neared its end did Erna finally look at him. How do I look? Is it alright? Her eyes seemed to plead with such desperate intensity.

Biern nodded, his face restored to its light and refreshing smile. Thinking of Gladys, who couldn't hide her misery, he couldn't refuse this woman even one white lie out of kindness.

"Well done, Miss Hardy."

Before the dance ended, Biern whispered a skilled falsehood into her ear.

"We'll settle the trophy debt slowly."

He even magnanimously offered her a favor. It was in that moment that a radiant smile bloomed across Erna's face, which had been gazing at him in disbelief.

She smiled with the pure innocence of a child. Just like Gladys had back then.

"You're not actually falling for her, are you?"

"No way, but if it's real, I'll kill you. That'd break the rules!"

The nonsense from the bettors who'd doggedly followed him shattered the serenity of the terrace facing the sea.

Biern sat in his chair without a word and lit a cigar. The music and laughter from the banquet hall grew ever louder as the night deepened.

When their teasing drew no reaction, the group's chatter soon shifted elsewhere. As expected, it circled back to Erna. Peter, puffed up with pride, was boasting about the rejection letter he'd received despite his relentless flowers and cards.

"Is this even a proper reply? You got flat-out rejected."

Leonard burst into uncontrollable laughter upon reading the letter Peter thrust at him. The offending missive made its rounds through the group before finally reaching Biern's hands.

First, allow me to express my thanks for the flowers and letter you sent. However, it sits ill with me to accept gifts I cannot return in kind, so I risk rudeness with this reply.

I'm sorry, but strolling or taking tea with you seems impossible. I hope your precious flowers and letter find their way to a lady who can share such moments with you.

Once more, my deepest gratitude and apologies.

Biern, reading the neatly penned letter, soon joined the others in laughter. It was exactly as if her voice were reading it aloud. She must have written it with a serious expression, murmuring softly, blinking her frightened eyes slowly.

"Don't laugh, you bastards. Everyone starts out like this."

Peter snatched back the letter, undeterred by the mockery, and bellowed defiantly.

Biern withdrew his interest from the pointless commotion and faced the sea beyond the railing. The full moon hung in the sky, making the night far from dark.

"And what's with that bastard butting into our bet?"

Peter's face soured as he scanned the hall. The group's teasing eyes—and Biern's—soon followed. A young man was speaking with Erna.

The Second Son of House Heinz.

Biern's eyes narrowed upon recognizing him. His reputation wasn't great, but at least he was young—a better marriage prospect than Count Leman, perhaps.

"If you're that upset, go claim your stake."

Everyone's eyes widened at Biern's words, exhaled amid cigar smoke.

"Or leave it be. Our bet is our bet, and Miss Hardy has her own business to conduct."

With that curt dismissal, Biern turned his attention away from the hall's clamor.

"That's more like it. Forgive this sinner for doubting you even briefly, Your Highness."

Peter sent Biern a gaze of genuine admiration as he casually smoked his cigar.

The group, who'd been chattering freely about him, fell suddenly silent just as Biern stubbed out his cigar in the ashtray.

"Let's talk, Biern."

Biern slowly turned at the unwelcome voice piercing the silence. Gladys. Seeing her face made it even less welcome—his former wife stood there.

"Yes, Princess."

Biern lit another cigar and inclined his head slightly.

"Speak."

Turning back to the sea, Biern's face held no trace of amusement. The beautiful moonlight ripples suddenly irritated him.

"I'm sorry for approaching so rudely."

As the others took the hint and left, Gladys drew slowly nearer. She stopped beside his chair, like a child awaiting punishment.

"Get to the point."

Only then did Biern properly look at Gladys, lighting his cigar. His expression showed faint annoyance and little else. Even gripped by humiliation, she didn't back down.

"Do you plan to keep using that girl like this from now on?"

"That girl?"

"The poor country miss you're using to torment me."

"Ah. Erna."

Biern murmured her name like humming a sweet melody.

"Using her? You're far too confident."

He chuckled lowly and exhaled a long plume of smoke toward the night sky.

"How can you be so sure it's not real? In my eyes, that country miss is more beautiful than you. Kinder and more innocent, needless to say."

"Please stop. Don't hurt innocent people over this—our matter is just between us now..."

"I told you clearly that day, Princess. The deal was fair, so nothing remains between us."

Even as he spoke coldly, Biern's tone remained steadily calm and gentle.

They'd divorced amid such deceptions without him ever raising his voice. Pouring out raw emotion now was laughable. No— the fact that there was nothing left to pour out made the situation all the more irritating.

"Then, Biern, what if I propose another deal?"

Gladys, whom he'd expected to play the tragic heroine, squeeze out some tears, and leave, posed an unexpected question. Biern, already rising to exit the tiresome play, slowly turned to face her.

"Wouldn't that change things between us?"

"A deal? What kind?"

"Your crown... the one you lost because of me. I want to give it back."

Tears welled in Gladys's eyes.

"That's why I returned to Lechen. To apologize to you, and start over with you... from the beginning."

"You, Princess, will return my crown?"

"Yes."

Gladys nodded vigorously and stepped closer to Biern.

"If we remarry and show everyone we're happily together, you can regain the crown prince's seat. Father's promised it. He won't hold back any support to make it happen."

Even as she choked back sobs, Gladys's voice remained clear and pure. Biern watched her with quietly lowered eyes.

"Of course, I know you can't forgive me easily. I don't dare expect it. But Biern, give me a chance to atone. Hate me if you must—just don't turn away. Please. I'm begging you."

In her desperation, Gladys reached out and clutched his sleeve. Fortunately, he didn't shake her off.

"You don't know how much I've regretted my foolish youthful mistakes. The time I spent was punishment equal to what I did to you. It was so hard... so painful."

"Is that so?"

"Yes. But if that's not enough, I'll try harder. I'll keep praying until your heart softens. As long as it takes."

"I see."

Biern nodded as if fully understanding. A faint spark of hope glimmered in Gladys's eyes.

"But what a pity, Princess. That deal can't happen."

With a sigh-mingled hollow laugh, Biern brushed off her hand from his sleeve like shaking off filth. Gladys flinched back, thick tears spilling from her eyes.

"Biern?"

"I didn't lose that crown because of you."

Straightening his crumpled shirtsleeve, Biern smiled.

"If I'd truly wanted to keep it, I had plenty of ways. I could've just killed the child."

"What are you saying...?"

"Such a simple, sure method. Isn't it, Gladys?"

Biern tilted his head as if genuinely curious.

"I could've poisoned her in the womb, or faked a miscarriage. With that, I'd be the sympathetic crown prince who'd lost his child, crown intact. Or the tragic one who'd lost both pregnant wife and baby—that would've been cleanest."

Even with her face drained of color right before him, Biern remained astonishingly serene.

"Yet I set aside that crown despite the easy path, Princess. Because I didn't crave it that badly."

Refastening his crooked cufflink, Biern grinned.

"And you're going to return it? You, my crown?"

The crueler his words grew, the softer Biern's smile became.

"What about Leonit? Should he relinquish the crown he received without choice, just because Lars's princess wishes it?"

"That's not what I—"

"Does Lechen's throne amuse you so, Princess?"

"No! It's not that! Please stop..."

Gladys choked back bursting sobs, pleading desperately. Whispers from onlookers hovering at the terrace entrance seeped into her stifled weeping.

"If you want to be a beloved crown princess again, look elsewhere. I hear Bern's queen passed from old age. Aiming for that throne wouldn't be bad. Far more substantial than crown princess, no?"

"Do you have to be this cruel? Do you still hate me that much?"

Gladys finally let her sobs erupt uncontrollably.

As if declaring no more words, Biern averted his gaze and passed her indifferently. The eavesdroppers startled back in alarm.

Biern offered them a silent bow and smile before exiting the terrace at an unhurried pace. No one dared stop the grand duke—not even his familiar circle, content to hush it up.

He crossed the banquet hall without once looking back.