Chapter 5

-----------------------------------------------------------------

Translator: Harry Potta

Chapter: 5

Chapter Title: The Start of the Rumors

-----------------------------------------------------------------

"I told you to get out because I don't want to see you, and you're still dawdling like this!"

Baroness Baden's voice, brimming with fury, shattered the peace of the countryside home. The faint sounds of chickens and geese scattering in panic from the backyard drifted in through the open window.

"I'm sorry, Grandmother. I was wrong. All right?"

Erna, who had signaled Mrs. Greve to leave with a glance, cautiously took a few more steps toward her grandmother. Baroness Baden, seated stubbornly in the chair by the window, pointedly ignored her. This had been her attitude ever since hearing about the events in Schwerin.

"If you really think that, then contact Walter Hardy right now. Tell him to call off that ridiculous deal."

Only after a long pause did Baroness Baden finally turn to face Erna.

"I can't do that, Grandmother. The Hardy family lawyer is meeting Thomas Baden today to finalize the deal. Father is the owner for now, but he's promised to inherit it to me soon. Then we can live here without any worries forever."

"Child, what good is owning this house if it means selling yourself for it?"

"Selling me? Why would you say such a thing? No, it's not like that at all, Grandmother."

Erna furrowed her brow deeply and shook her head.

"It's good for everyone. We save the house, and now I can finally live with Father."

"Is that sincere, Erna? Do you really want that?"

"...Yes."

Erna hurriedly flashed a smile.

"Of course. It's the truth."

Yet even with her grandmother's eyes still filled with sorrow, it clearly wasn't a very convincing lie.

Father had granted her request.

He agreed to buy the countryside home that had been inherited to Thomas Baden and pass it on to Erna. She had been so shocked that she nearly fainted. Though she had clung to it as her last hope in a desperate gamble, she never imagined it would come true so easily. Of course, there was a price to pay, so it wasn't exactly free luck.

As a condition for fulfilling his daughter's wish, Viscount Hardy made an unexpected proposal. Let's live together as a proper family from now on, he said. He confessed that he had always felt guilty for leaving his marriageable daughter in such a distant place until now.

'One year. Just give your father that much time.'

When Erna hesitated, her father added urgently.

'Spend a year or so here in Schwerin, debut in society, and build the connections you'll need for your future. It's the least a father should do to give you a proper foundation.'

At his cue, the viscountess chimed in as well. Her passionate explanation about helping Erna live as a proper noble lady rang hollow to Erna—mere illusions without substance.

Erna cherished the quiet life here, where every day was like the last, and tomorrow promised no change. If such days wove together into a life as beautifully complete as the patchwork quilt her grandmother had made, she would want for nothing more.

Still, she accepted because it was the best option. Erna was determined to protect this house at any cost. Call it foolish stubbornness if you must. Spending a year by her father's side in exchange for the house wasn't a bad deal at all.

"Go on, then. Leave me."

Baroness Baden finally withdrew her steady gaze from her granddaughter.

"Grandmother..."

"Please, Erna. I need some time alone."

The eyes she fixed on the window beyond were even redder now.

Erna could say no more and quietly left her grandmother's bedroom. Her shadow stretched long behind her weary, dragging footsteps.

The drinking party's topic circled back to horse racing, as expected.

The young heirs from prestigious families, all members of the social club, went half-mad with fervor at the mere mention of horses. When talk turned to the winner of the last race, envious and jealous gazes converged on Biern. The stallion owned by the grand duke had dominated the kingdom's major races. And its owner rarely even showed up at the track.

"Biern, if you're not into racing, why not sell it? You could name your price, and buyers would line up. I'd be first in line."

"Then I'd pay one-and-a-half times what he asks."

"Two times for me."

They all buzzed with excitement, awaiting Biern's response.

"I don't have much interest in racing, true."

Biern set down his emptied glass in one smooth motion and replied flatly. Their eyes now gleamed with undisguised anticipation.

"But I'm still not selling."

"If you're not interested, why?"

"Because it's mine."

Sighs erupted here and there at Biern's nonchalant answer. Pleas and persuasions poured in, but as always, he brushed them off indifferently.

"His Highness won't even listen to others with half an ear."

Peter shook his head with a wry chuckle.

"What kind of logic is 'not interested but it's mine, so no'? Anyway, you're a freak."

He grumbled with a scowl but refilled Biern's glass with a familiar friendliness.

After more heated talk on racing, the men's conversation naturally shifted to women, as it always did. Biern glanced at the grandfather clock diagonally across the room, crossed his legs, and propped his chin on his hand atop the table.

"Oh! That new maid at the Hardy house? She's a total knockout."

Once the names of society's famed beauties ran dry, someone tossed in fresh kindling.

"Hardy house? They can't be in a position to hire new maids right now. They're probably letting go of the ones they have."

"Then maybe an old retainer? Anyway, it was definitely their house. I saw her go in."

"What, you already stalked her?"

"Stalk? I ran into her by chance on Tara Street. She was such a beauty, I thought about saying hello. But she freaked out and bolted before we could exchange names. Looked like a country girl—super skittish."

"Scaring a beauty like that. Must be your ugly mug. If it'd been our prince here, even a timid country girl would've greeted him sweet as honey."

"Shut up."

The silly banter flew back and forth amid raucous laughter, mingling with the scent of strong liquor.

Hardy.

Biern idly repeated the name he'd been hearing more often lately as he rose from his seat. The brandy in the glass in his hand sloshed lightly with his casual strides.

"Everyone arrived early."

Entering the second-floor study of the club, Biern greeted them with a bright smile. The bank directors seated around the reception sofas looked up at him in unison.

"We're not early—Your Highness is late."

"Hmm. Is that so?"

Biern flopped into the head seat and pointed at the clock.

"It's exactly on the hour now, right?"

No sooner had he spoken than the hands struck precisely four o'clock. His grin, smug as if to say "See?", was refreshingly vibrant, belying a day spent drinking since noon.

Biern set his empty glass at the table's edge and readily accepted the thick documents from the lawyer. It was a detailed report on the new foreign and municipal bonds entering Retzen's financial market.

He began perusing the papers methodically. Despite the alcohol he'd consumed, his steady gaze showed no trace of inebriation.

The men in the study waited silently for his review to end. These luminaries of finance and law, gathered in a social club by day to serve as the wastrel's limbs, did so because that wastrel was none other than Prince Biern Dynister.

They had decided to join the prince in his sudden venture to found a bank purely for his connections and capital. They figured a half-hearted figurehead who wouldn't meddle much would be easy to control. Who could have foreseen that Biern would turn into a golden goose? No one.

So what did reputation matter?

The sweet profits they reaped thanks to that naturally gifted—if poisonous mushroom of a prince—made them forget everything else.

"Well, then. Let's begin."

Biern finished skimming the documents quickly and curved his lips into a smile. It was the grin that heralded yet another success.

"Did I do something terribly wrong, Uncle?"

Handing over the iron nail she'd been clutching, Erna asked gravely. Ralph Royce, glancing at her briefly, said nothing and began hammering without reply. Dust piled atop the fence billowed with each resounding thunk.

Erna stayed by his side, sneezing nonstop. By the time the half-collapsed fence was restored, her nose was red and inflamed.

"Sending the young lady away, the missus can't help but be heartbroken."

Wiping his face with the cloth Erna offered, Ralph finally gave his belated answer.

"She knew we couldn't keep you in this countryside forever like this... But this farewell is too sudden."

His gruff tone belied the warmth and sorrow in his eyes as he looked at Erna.

Baroness Baden had ultimately accepted her granddaughter's decision. Tomorrow, Erna would depart for Schwerin, where her father's house awaited. The fact that Hardy servants had come all the way to distant Burford to fetch her suggested Viscount Hardy was resolute.

"I'm sorry, Uncle."

Erna whispered, gazing at him steadily.

"For deciding this on my own and making everyone sad. I'm truly sorry."

"Miss Erna..."

"But I saved the house, so I won't regret it."

Erna's smile shone so brightly that even the wide straw hat's shadow couldn't dim it.

Ralph rubbed his reddened eyes roughly and nodded in response. If he opened his mouth, he might break into unseemly tears. As if understanding, Erna lingered by his side. Leaning side by side against the newly mended fence, the late afternoon sun bathed them in dazzling light.

"Please take good care of Grandmother until I return, Uncle."

Erna kicked idly at the dirt and made her tentative request. Ralph nodded once more, his face even more flushed than before.

He had been the Baden family coachman, but with no carriage left in the house, he now handled all sorts of odd jobs. Even after the family's fortunes declined to the point they could barely pay wages, only he and the housekeeper Mrs. Greve remained.

It wasn't just loyalty from years together; at their age, finding new work was nearly impossible, and Erna knew that well.

That was all the more reason to protect this house.

So that these near-family retainers could stay here comfortably for years to come. For that, she could endure a year easily. Come next spring, she could return to this home and gaze once more at its beautiful, serene landscape.

Erna left the Baden home the next morning. A few days later, rumors spread through high society about the sudden arrival of Viscount Hardy's daughter.

They said the viscount's daughter, who had been recuperating in the countryside due to frail health, had returned. She was set for a belated society debut this season—and apparently a beauty rivaling Princess Gladys herself. Quite the anticipation.

It was that sort of rumor: source dubious, but tantalizing enough to stir the gossips' interest.