Chapter 27

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Translator: Harry Potta

Chapter: 27

Chapter Title: At Least Once

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And cut, and paste.

The flowers blooming from Erna's fingertips, moving mechanically, were as beautiful as ever today. Lisa's gaze alternated between the piles of finished arrangements and Erna's hands, filled with awe tinged with bewilderment.

As if nothing had happened at all, Erna remained serene.

Following Viscount Hardy's order forbidding her from going outside until her wounds fully healed, she secluded herself at home, passing her days quietly. She didn't even neglect her flower arranging. If not for those occasional moments when she spaced out, staring blankly into space, Lisa might have grown a little afraid of her lady.

"Sorry, Lisa. You must have waited a long time."

Erna finished her work by placing the last completed rose arrangement into a box. It was at least three times the amount she'd delivered last week.

"You're pushing yourself too hard, miss."

Lisa eyed Erna with concern. The wounds from her father's whipping had healed, but her complexion looked even more gaunt than before from skimping on sleep to throw herself into work.

"I'm fine. Focusing on something like this keeps me from getting bored."

Even with her hollowed cheeks, Erna smiled brightly.

Lisa stared in a daze at her lady's bloodshot eyes, pale cheeks, braided hair, and the thread stuck to her apron, then let out an awkward "Haha" to gloss over the conversation.

Once Lisa left for the department store with the large bundle, the bedroom fell into deep silence. After tidying the desk, Erna curled up in the chair by the sunlit window and gazed down at the garden. The deepened green of the foliage and the fully bloomed summer flowers made the passage of seasons feel real.

Just two more weeks to endure.

Erna habitually counted the days until her promised meeting with Pavel. It wasn't an exaggeration to say that number was what sustained her life these days.

Though shameless, she'd decided to accept Pavel's help. Eloping in the dead of night was hardly ladylike, but the world sometimes demanded exceptions. It was a harsh new lesson her father had taught her.

Scammed by the man her father was scammed by.

Recalling that fact made fresh rage surge up again.

Her father had fallen for a massive investment scam, the family fortunes plummeted as a result, and so he'd plotted to recover by marrying off his daughter on the marriage market. That was the truth Erna had pieced together during her time secluded at home. If she'd put her mind to it, she could have seen through the shallow scheme ages ago.

The scammer duped her father, her father duped her—she was the fool crushed at the bottom of that scam's food chain. Thinking of herself that way was so infuriating and humiliating that she could barely sleep. Especially when she remembered her grandfather, who had called her his prized pupil and taken such pride in his clever granddaughter.

Farewell, past Erna Hardy—too naive and complacent.

Erna stood with renewed resolve, then returned to her desk. Even if she'd resolved to run away, she intended to fulfill her duties faithfully until that day came. For the honor of House Baden, at least.

Did the people here not even know what refusal meant?

Erna looked awkwardly at the thick stack of letters. She couldn't fathom how they could receive rejection replies multiple times and still send the exact same letters without a care.

Most of the recent letters from young gentlemen contained invitations to the party at the summer festival opening on court assembly day. Would she not join them on a boat to watch the fireworks that night?

Lisa had said it was deeply shameful for a young lady not to find a partner for a boat ride that day. So she'd advised against simply rejecting the courtship letters, but Erna turned them all down in the end. Publicly engaging in the indecency of boating alone with a strange man at night? She couldn't comprehend the debauched customs of this great city. Better to be the shameful lady than partake. There was no need to adapt to a world she'd be leaving in two weeks.

Erna wrote her refusals again today, the same content but with a thicker pen nib and larger letters to convey even firmer rejection. Lisa returned just as she sealed the last one.

"Miss! Erna miss! Miss!"

Without even knocking, Lisa flung open the door and rushed in frantically.

"A person from—from Schwerin Palace! What do we do? What now?"

"Calm down, Lisa. What happened?"

The startled Erna jumped up and hurried to Lisa, who was panting as if about to collapse and babbling incoherently.

"What are we going to do, miss?"

Once her breathing settled enough to speak, Lisa looked at Erna with a tearful face.

"Her Majesty the Queen is summoning you!"

Lisa's despairing cry echoed loudly through the quiet bedroom.

The carriage carrying the two princes departed through the gates of Schwerin Palace in the afternoon, when the sunlight had ripened to gold. They were headed to their maternal family's—Duke Arsen's—summer villa. Originally, only Leonit had planned to go, but the Queen had insisted Biern accompany him.

"Think about how much Grandmother loved you."

She had even come personally to the Grand Duke's residence, rousing her just-awakened son to deliver a lecture with fervent zeal. Biern had grudgingly accepted his mother's strong urging precisely because it was so unusual for her.

She was generally magnanimous and gentle, but uncompromising when she wasn't. Biern knew from experience that yielding was the wisest course in those cases. As his mother said, the Duchess of Arsen had loved her firstborn grandson more than anyone, so enduring this much hassle was nothing. Though now she was proving just how fiercely that once-fervent love could turn to hatred.

"At least dinner won't be boring, thanks to you."

Leonit broke the silence in the carriage with light teasing. Biern's face, smiling as if to say whatever happened, happened, showed no particular worry.

"She'll at least feed us."

After the divorce, the Duchess of Arsen hadn't even wanted to see him for a full year. In the second year, she allowed visits, and from last winter, she'd extended the tolerance of sharing a table. Under the strict condition that they never sit face-to-face or exchange words.

"You know it's because she still loves you deeply, right?"

Leonit posed the question with his usual seriousness. Biern shot him a sidelong glance as if wondering why he was spouting such nonsense, then turned wordlessly to stare out the carriage window.

Today, too, Leonit couldn't ask if it might be best to tell Grandmother the truth. It would have been pointless anyway—he already knew Biern's answer.

Excluding the royal family of Lars, only three people in all of Retzen knew: the King, the Queen, and Leonit. If Biern hadn't so vehemently refused the crown prince position, he wouldn't have told even him the truth.

If it had been me.

Whenever he entertained that thought, Leonit felt anew just how ruthless his twin truly was. He could never have done what Biern had. It was through Biern that he'd first learned such extremes of callousness, responsibility, distrust of people, and consideration could coexist in one person.

As the carriage began crossing the bridge, Leonit opened the book he'd brought.

At the same time, Biern's gaze drifted to the granite pillar at the bridge's entrance—the spot where that absurd, foolish woman had waited for him.

"What if I hadn't come?"

Before parting from her, Biern had asked the question with genuine curiosity. Waiting indefinitely for someone who might never show defied his common sense entirely.

"I was going to come back tomorrow and wait again."

Erna had answered as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

"There's only one road connecting the palace and the city, so I figured you'd cross this bridge at least once."

Her earnest addition, backed by her own logic, only left Biern more deflated.

When they reached the street with the stagecoach stop, Erna hurried down from the carriage. Biern didn't bother detaining the woman who firmly declined an escort. How proudly she'd boasted of knowing how to board a stagecoach, as if it were some grand accomplishment.

Erna offered a demure curtsy and trotted off down the road.

As the carriage departed, Biern promptly forgot the incomprehensible woman. The scandal erupted four days later.

The carriage had reached the middle of the bridge, and Biern withdrew his gaze from the passing scenery.

"Who is that?"

Leonit, who had glanced out the window carelessly, frowned and asked. Biern, about to nap, narrowed his eyes toward the opposite end of the bridge. A royal carriage was speeding toward them.

Through the window of the passing carriage, Biern glimpsed a brown-haired woman.

Erna.

She resembled the owner of that name.

The tea table for the Queen's guest was set in the depths of the annex garden.

Queen Isabel Dynister welcomed Erna with a smiling face, her demeanor as natural as if they were simply enjoying a leisurely afternoon chat.

"You may withdraw now."

She gave the order in a gentle tone to the maid who had escorted Erna here. The maid bowed in acknowledgment and led the waiting servants away from the garden at a distance. As they vanished, the silence enveloping the pergola blooming with climbing roses deepened further.

Queen Isabel Dynister regarded Erna, seated across the table, with deep, calm eyes. The young lady was frozen stiff with tension, fumbling uncertainly about what to do. It was understandable—she'd been suddenly summoned without knowing why.

"Have some tea first, Miss Hardy."

"Pardon? Ah... yes, Your Majesty. I'm sorry."

At her invitation, Erna hastily took up her teacup. Her hands trembled so much it was worrisome she might scald herself.

Queen Isabel Dynister savored the aroma of her tea after a sip, then began observing Erna. Her outdated dress, far from fashion, and her fresh face without makeup gave her a markedly different impression from their social encounters.

Two days prior, she'd secretly ordered an investigation into everything about Erna Hardy, and the attendant who'd gone to Burford had returned. His thick report detailed Erna's background thoroughly, including information on both Houses Hardy and Baden.

A lady bearing the Hardy name but raised amid the Baden family traditions.

That was the summary conclusion. It was why she'd resolved to meet Erna in person. Though fallen on hard times, they were an upright, virtuous noble house that hadn't lost their dignity. Surely a girl raised in such a family might differ from the rumors swirling in society—a flicker of hopeful curiosity had made her impatient.

"What is your relationship with Biern?"

To Erna, who now seemed settled, Queen Isabel Dynister cut straight to the point.

Erna finally raised her head to meet her gaze properly. The young lady, with her large, beautiful eyes, was such a striking beauty that it was no wonder she'd captured society's attention overnight.

"Tell me exactly what happened between you two, Miss Hardy. And don't even think about deceiving me."