**2. Love Your Fate**
The train to Schwerin pulled into the platform right on schedule. It was just as the pale dawn haze was clearing and morning was beginning to break.
Erna, standing stiff as a rod, approached the train car with hesitant steps. The country station, having just greeted its first train of the day, was quiet. After the few passengers hurriedly boarded, only Erna remained on the platform.
"Hey there, miss. Are you getting on or not?"
The station master's curt question roused Erna from her daze.
"Ah... yes."
Erna turned her eyes, which had been anxiously scanning her surroundings, to face the station master. Her hand, gripping the trunk with all her might, began to tremble slightly.
By now, she must have discovered the letter.
Erna's gaze deepened as she looked back at the station building.
She couldn't bring herself to tell her grandmother that she was going to meet her father. It was because she knew her grandmother all too well—Baroness Baden, who would rather become destitute than seek help from a son-in-law she regarded as an enemy. After much deliberation, Erna ultimately chose the rather unladylike path of leaving secretly with only a letter explaining her circumstances.
Father.
As she repeated that foreign, unfamiliar name, her heartbeat quickened. Since her mother's funeral was their last meeting, this would be a reunion after eleven years. She knew full well that they were no different from strangers—no, worse than strangers—but for now, he was Erna's last hope. Perhaps she would even be turned away at the door.
Erna readjusted her grip on the trunk, caught her breath, and raised her head to face the train before her. The massive black mass of metal gleamed threateningly in the morning sunlight.
"If you're not going to get on..."
"No, I am!" Erna hastily shook her head and cried out. Her determined blue eyes flashed brightly.
"I'm sorry. I'll get on. I will get on!"
Love your fate.
Recalling the phrase she had adopted as her life's motto, Erna took a trembling step forward.
This world has no interest in one person's misfortune, and therefore one must forge one's own life with one's own strength. Wallowing in self-pity changes nothing, so it is better to love whatever fate comes your way. If you love it, you will strive, and striving with all your might is always better than resignation in any circumstance.
If clinging to even the slenderest thread of hope was her given fate, Erna intended to love that fate as well. After all, Viscount Hardy was Erna Hardy's father. Someone who had an obligation to be responsible for his child. But someone who had ignored that duty for many years. So now he was someone who should fulfill that duty.
Leaving behind the station master with his fierce expression, Erna hurriedly boarded the train. Her pale floral-patterned muslin dress rippled with her urgent movements. A return after fourteen years since leaving her hometown holding her mother's hand. The beginning of a long journey.
* * *
Björn slowly set down his teacup. His flawless, elegant motion only accentuated his slouched posture as he crossed his long legs.
"Are you even listening to me right now?"
The woman's bewildered voice disrupted the tranquility of the sitting room filled with spring sunlight.
"Why? Don't you want to answer? Surely that article isn't actually true? Hmm?"
The woman's pressing voice grew even higher.
Björn swept his hand slowly over his face, still bearing traces of sleep, and picked up his teacup again. After taking another sip of the properly cooled tea, he felt his muddled head becoming somewhat clearer.
"Björn!"
Unable to contain herself, the woman shot up from her seat. A beam of sunlight streaming through the window illuminated her like a stage spotlight. Despite having rushed from the capital to this Schwerin before noon, she was perfectly coiffed and dressed.
Björn finally raised his eyes, now adjusted to the light, to look at the woman. His gray eyes, touched by sunlight, held an opalescent, mysterious gleam.
He had returned home at dawn, and after showering and throwing himself into bed, morning had fully brightened. So for Björn at least, it was still the middle of the night. This was certainly not an ideal time to be awakened in such a manner.
Björn opened his eyes, which he had been slowly closing, and leaned back deep into the chair. Beyond the window facing the river, the spirited shouts of a rowing practice group began to drift in.
Damnably fine morning.
With a soft laugh and a sigh, Björn calmly picked up the newspaper the woman had thrown down in her furious entrance. The front page of the tabloid, the same kind Leonit had brought recently, was adorned with an article about him today as well.
"Former Crown Prince Couple Reconciliation Rumors—Exclusive Report from Close Sources."
Björn glanced indifferently at the grandiose headline and the large photo of himself, then began reading the article with narrowed eyes.
According to sources who requested anonymity, the atmosphere between the two seems unusual. While forgiving such a shameless ex-husband is certainly not wise, the softhearted Princess Gladys appears to be wavering. Thanks to this, this summer, Lecen's social circles are expected to heat up considerably. Such carefully written nonsense filled the page. It was clearly a newspaper where everything except their ability to select flattering photos was utterly pathetic.
With a snort of laughter, Björn set the newspaper down as if nothing had happened. The face of the woman who had been watching him with bated breath was now red with humiliation she could no longer hide.
"So you have no intention of explaining, is that it?"
The woman now clenched her fists, her eyes rimmed with red.
"Let's end this."
She declared in a sharp voice, as if making a solemn proclamation. Björn, a cigar between his lips, glanced up to meet her gaze.
"It seems there's no reason to continue this relationship any longer. I believe I'll be getting engaged before this spring ends."
Despite her triumphant tone, an anxiety she couldn't hide showed in the woman's eyes. Björn gazed at her steadily as he lit his cigar.
She wasn't a bad lover.
Moderately elegant, moderately vulgar, and above all, she understood well the premise that after enjoying each other's company within appropriate boundaries, they would return to their respective lives. No. That was true until she burst in, excited by the name Gladys Hartford in some cheap daily paper.
"Congratulations on your engagement, Miss Perez."
Björn willingly nodded and smiled. The whisper that flowed out with white smoke was low and gentle.
"What did you say?"
The woman, blinking slowly, asked back in disbelief.
"You selfish, cold-hearted wretch to the bone! How can you do this to me?"
"Well. You're the one who mentioned parting."
The tips of his long fingers slowly traced the rim of the teacup.
"I simply accepted it."
Didn't I?
As if asking back, Björn tilted his head slightly. His carelessly swept-back hair fell with the motion. The woman only bit her lip gently, unable to offer any rebuttal.
Björn left the woman with her flushed face behind and rose from the table. Smoke rising from the cigar he tossed into the ashtray scattered on the wind coming through the window.
"Just a moment!"
The woman called out to him almost like a scream. Björn stopped and answered by casting a glance over his shoulder.
"Is that really all you have to say to me?"
The lady of the Perez family now wore an expression close to tears. Even so, her face remained beautiful, but it stirred no particular emotion in him.
Toward his former lover who hadn't been bad, Björn slowly turned around. Then politely, with fullest courtesy, he bowed his head. It was a refined greeting that seemed utterly at odds with his attire of a loosely wrapped gown.
"I pray you become an excellent countess."
His lips, bearing a smile that seemed almost gentle, glowed red in the sunlight.
Leaving the woman half-dazed, Björn walked out of the sitting room. Mrs. Fitz, who had been waiting outside the door, followed him like a shadow.
"I trust you're not planning to sing me a lullaby."
The corners of Björn's lips curved softly as he looked at Mrs. Fitz who had followed him to the bedroom door.
"If His Highness the Prince wishes, I can certainly do so, but unfortunately, that would be difficult right now."
Mrs. Fitz returned the joke with her usual strict demeanor. She had been the crown prince's wet nurse and now managed the household of this Schwerin palace. Even as a white-haired old woman, her upright nature hadn't changed a bit.
"You must leave for the train station soon."
"Train station?"
"Her Majesty the Queen will be arriving shortly."
"Ah. It was today, wasn't it."
Björn finally remembered the schedule. It was the day his mother, invited to a charity party at the Royal Hospital, was visiting Schwerin. Escorting the Queen was, of course, his duty.
"Yes."
Björn accepted his assigned duty with a light nod of his head.
"Let's prepare, then."
* * *
Passing through several cities, the train grew increasingly crowded with passengers. Erna's compartment, which had been hers alone, was now packed.
Seated close to the carriage window, Erna carefully observed the passing scenery with eyes mixed with curiosity and anxiety. Dense buildings and spiderweb-like roads between them, with countless pedestrians and carriages moving along. Everything was so complicated and dazzling. She felt almost dizzy.
Still, knowing the address, she could find her way.
Suppressing her anxiety, Erna tried to reassure herself. After all, it was the city where she was born and raised, so there was no need to be overly afraid. Even though she hadn't lived there for even five years, hometown was still hometown.
While Erna steeled herself once more, the train arrived at its final destination, Schwerin Central Station, and came to a stop.
Erna hurriedly gathered her belongings and left the compartment among the other passengers. The ribbon of her hat, tied taut beneath her chin, and her neatly braided hair swayed with her determined steps. But that resolute appearance didn't last long.
Erna couldn't clearly remember what happened after she stepped into the corridor.
Jostled here and there, swept along, she somehow got off the train, and when she came to her senses, she was standing on the platform. The countless people and the noise that made her ears tingle overwhelmed Erna in an instant. She struggled to escape this place, but the more she tried, the further she was pushed from the exit.
"Here he comes! He's coming!"
Someone shouted, and the eyes of the crowd filling the platform turned in one direction. Erna, readjusting her grip on the trunk she had nearly dropped, also turned her head in that direction without thinking.
She realized she was standing at the front of the spectator crowd and spotted a tall man approaching from the other side almost simultaneously.