Chapter 38

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Translator: Harry Potta

Chapter: 38

Chapter Title: I'll Give You Money

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"Does His Highness know Pavel?"

Erna, who had fallen silent for a moment, asked in disbelief.

"How do you know about that? Did I mention it to you? Or... could rumors have already spread?"

Erna, deep in thought, fired off questions one after another. Her face was innocently pure, showing nothing but genuine curiosity about the situation.

"No. Lady Hardy told me."

Biern brushed aside his slight embarrassment and lied smoothly. Me? Really? Even as she repeated the question several times, Erna never once averted her eyes from his. It was a more open attitude than when she'd hesitated and stammered before.

"So, no one besides Your Highness knows yet?"

Erna clutched the edge of the shawl draped over her shoulders and suddenly lowered her voice. It seemed she'd finally grasped the situation.

"Probably."

At Biern's nonchalant reply, Erna let out a sigh of relief that was utterly baffling.

"That's a relief. I was so worried rumors might have gotten out."

Her face relaxed its guard as she smiled.

A woman smiling while speaking of her lover—with whom she'd planned a midnight flight—despite her pallid face from a severe cold and the bruises from her father's beating.

Biern let out a scoff at the absurdity, and Erna's smile only brightened further.

"Please keep it a secret, Your Highness. I beg you. If word gets out, Pavel will be in real trouble."

Erna bowed her head deeply as she pleaded. Her attitude lacked both context and consistency.

"Why."

Biern's long, slender fingers paused as they traced the rim of his teacup.

"Hasn't he already steeled himself for ruined reputation and gossip the moment he decided to elope with you?"

"Pardon? Are you suggesting that Pavel and I... that we were about to do something so shameful?"

"What else?"

"Good heavens. Pavel is my friend. Like family—we grew up together in Buford!"

Erna's face hardened as if she'd suffered a grave insult.

"A midnight flight? Absolutely not! Yes, we were planning to head to Buford together, but that was because of the money I'd borrowed from him. Traveling alone with that much cash is dangerous, so Pavel was just going to escort me all the way to the Baden estate."

"...Money?"

Biern's brow furrowed slightly. Realizing her slip too late, Erna bit her lip in despair.

Why did she always end up exposing her weaknesses to this man?

She wanted to vanish somewhere if she could. She knew it was ridiculous to talk of pride in her current wretched state, but her heart still felt that way.

"You're borrowing money from Pavel Roer?"

Biern tilted his head slightly as he looked at her.

"Why?"

As he frowned, the color of his eyes deepened. The memory of that midsummer night, when she'd thought those eyes so beautiful, only made her feel more wretched now.

If only that moment had been the last.

Embarrassed by that fleeting wish, Erna bowed her head deeply. Over the table covered in white lace doilies, humiliating memories she'd tried to forget resurfaced. Her clothes soaked and muddied by rain, her bruised and ugly face. Her pathetic figure slumped in exhaustion while waiting for Pavel, who never came. The raindrops dripping from her body, staining the splendid carriage.

"Lady Hardy."

Biern's urging voice was low and subdued.

Erna squeezed her eyes shut and then opened them, lifting her head in resignation. She decided to be bold instead. It was the only way to protect her heart now.

"Tell me."

His gray eyes, fixed on her, were deep.

"Now."

They were still as beautiful as that night.

The Baroness Baden arrived just as Pavel was about to step out of the house. Mrs. Greve was with her, her face drenched in tears.

"Baroness!"

Pavel cried out in shock upon recognizing her. Even at a glance, it was unmistakably Erna's grandmother, the Baroness Baden of Buford.

"Pavel! It's terrible, dear! Our Erna's gone missing!"

As her eyes met his, she began sobbing even more pitifully. Mrs. Greve burst into tears as well, turning the front entrance into a sea of tears in an instant.

It was an utterly unbelievable, surreal scene, but Pavel first ushered them into the drawing room. Though they could scarcely stop crying, the two elderly ladies haltingly explained how they'd come here, their visit to the Hardy estate, and the thunderbolt from a clear sky they'd heard there.

"It's been a whole day since we reported her missing, and they haven't found so much as a hair of hers."

The Baroness Baden dabbed at her red-rimmed eyes with the edge of her sodden handkerchief.

"We're just coming from the police station again. An officer gave us your address. When I asked if Erna knew anyone in the city, I mentioned your name. He said they'd visit you before nightfall— I hope we're not putting you in a difficult spot?"

"...No. Not at all, Baroness."

Pavel forced the words out. His mind went blank, his throat tightening as if strangled.

When the landslide showed no signs of clearing, Pavel had gotten off the train and headed to a nearby village the couple from his compartment had mentioned. He luckily found a stagecoach company, but long-distance routes to Schwerin had already been suspended due to the storm.

After much deliberation, Pavel boarded a stagecoach to the nearest city to Schwerin. He figured he'd transfer there to reach Schwerin, but the small town's coaches had shut down early, derailing his plans once more.

On the verge of madness, Pavel fortunately found a post station where he could rent a horse. The owner's gouging price—four times the usual due to the foul weather—didn't matter. Thinking of Erna, terrified and alone at the station, he was ready to do anything. He had to.

But it had all ended like this.

Pavel swallowed his maddening self-loathing and clenched his fist.

He'd searched everywhere at Schwerin Station but found no sign of Erna. Even shouting her name until his throat was raw and combing the area yielded nothing.

Could she not have made it out of the house? Or if I didn't come, did she go back home?

As dawn broke, Pavel almost wished that were the case. The unnaturally quiet atmosphere at the Hardy estate lent credence to his guess. They couldn't be that serene if they knew Erna was missing. A Hardy housemaid he'd waited for at the back door confirmed it.

The young lady is unwell and recuperating indoors.

The maid had glared at him suspiciously.

It'll be hard for her to go out for a while, so please don't come calling like this.

With that, she'd fled back into the mansion.

Though turned away at the door, he'd finally been able to breathe. That morning, he'd wanted to thank a god he didn't believe in that Erna had returned home safely.

To avoid putting Erna—who might be under her father's watch—in a tough spot, Pavel had turned away first. And waited. For a chance when she might reach out. But a day passed, then another, with no word from Erna. No reply came to the letters he'd sent via errand boys.

Something was wrong.

When the third errand boy returned empty-handed, Pavel had no choice but to conclude that. The Hardy estate still seemed peaceful, but something had clearly happened to Erna. He'd just stepped out to check when he ran into the Baroness Baden.

You pathetic fool. Clueless to the end.

Pavel forcibly steadied his ragged breathing. If not for the two elderly ladies before him, he'd have torn his own hair out.

"Pavel, dear, are you all right?"

The Baroness Baden, scanning him worriedly, asked. Pavel lifted his flushed face to meet her eyes.

He knew he had to speak, but he couldn't gauge where to start, what to say, or how much. Erna was the kind of girl who wouldn't breathe a word of her father's abuse to her grandmother, no matter what.

But what good was that now, with Erna missing? No—what if she wasn't really missing?

Amid the tangle of doubts, Pavel had only one answer he could give.

"...Yes, Baroness."

Cold sweat trickled down his palms.

"I'm fine."

Even as he dodged cowardly, Pavel knew. He had to decide before meeting the police, at the latest.

"I'll give you money."

Biern broke the long, heavy silence with a calm voice. Erna, who had kept her eyes downcast, finally looked at him. Her face said she had no idea what he meant.

"The money you were going to borrow from Pavel Roer. I'll give it to you."

Biern added the explanation in an unchanged tone. It should have been perfectly clear, yet Erna just stared at him blankly.

Viscount Hardy, who made such a deal with his daughter over the Baden estate, was a filthy father. And Erna Hardy, deceived by that father and suffering in this city, was a pitiable woman.

But that was the end of it.

The tragedy of a filthy father and his pitiable daughter wasn't the sort outsiders could meddle in. Yet somehow, he'd contributed to making this woman even more pitiable, and he bore the duty to take responsibility.

Putting it all together, Biern's conclusion was money.

What she needed most now. What he could provide. A means to settle the debt that soured his mood. No matter how he thought about it, it was money. There could be no cleaner resolution than returning the stakes from that bet on her to her herself.

"Don't worry. I'm not lending it—I'm giving it."

Biern chuckled briefly, recalling the woman who'd innocently vowed to sell flowers to repay gold.

"You're... giving me money, Your Highness?"

As expected, Erna looked puzzled.

"Why?"

Her wary gaze and flushed cheeks were just as he'd anticipated.

Biern sighed and turned his eyes to the window for a moment.

He didn't want to owe this woman anything. Especially not an emotional debt. But Erna was too stubborn to accept the money without good reason, so there was only one way. Reveal the bet.

Having sorted his jumbled thoughts, Biern faced Erna again with a composed expression.

"Your Highness. It's Mrs. Fitz."

A knock echoed just as Biern was about to speak. Her voice sounded unusually urgent.

"Come in."

Biern glanced at Erna for permission, and the door opened immediately. Mrs. Fitz approached with quick steps, her face unable to hide her bewilderment.

"Urgent message from Schwerin Palace."

Before Biern could ask, she reported first.

"His Majesty's orders. You must come at once."