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CHAPTER 05
“I don’t want to see you. Go away and get out of my sight!”
The Baroness of Baden’s voice, trembling with anger, shattered the peaceful silence of the country house. Through the open window came the startled cries of chickens and geese scattering across the backyard.
“I’m sorry, Grandma. I was wrong…”
Erna blinked helplessly at Mrs. Greve before taking a few careful steps toward her grandmother.
The Baroness sat stiffly beside the window, refusing even to spare Erna a glance. Ever since learning what had happened in Schwerin, she had treated her granddaughter this way.
“If you’re truly sorry, send for Walter Hardy immediately. I refuse to allow such an absurd bargain.”
Only then did the Baroness finally turn to face her.
“I can’t, Grandma. Father’s lawyer is meeting Uncle Thomas today to finalize everything. The house still belongs to Uncle Thomas for now, but Father promised that once he inherits it, he’ll transfer it to me. Then we’ll never have to worry about losing this home again.”
The Baroness stared at her in disbelief.
“And you think selling yourself is a fair price for keeping this house?”
“Selling myself?”
Erna frowned.
“No, Grandma. That’s not what this is.”
She forced a reassuring smile.
“This is the best outcome for everyone. I’ll protect this house… and I’ll finally get to live with Father.”
The Baroness searched her granddaughter’s face.
“Do you truly want this, Erna?”
“…Yes.”
Erna nodded quickly.
“I really do.”
But faced with the sorrow filling her grandmother’s eyes, the lie felt painfully transparent.
Her father had granted her wish.
He had promised to purchase the country house from Thomas Baden and place it in Erna’s name.
The news had left her almost unable to believe it.
She had clung to that hope with desperate determination, never expecting it to come true so easily.
Of course, miracles always demanded a price.
Viscount Hardy’s condition had been simple.
He wanted his daughter to return to Schwerin and live with him as part of the family.
He admitted that leaving her in the countryside until she had grown into a marriageable young lady had weighed heavily on his conscience.
“Just one year, Erna. Give your father only one year.”
When she hesitated, he spoke more gently.
“Come to Schwerin. Make your debut in society. Meet the people you’ll need to know in the future. As your father, the least I can do is give you the foundation every noblewoman deserves.”
He spoke earnestly about preparing her for the life befitting a lady of noble birth.
But to Erna, those glittering promises felt like empty illusions.
She loved the quiet life here.
Yesterday had resembled today, and tomorrow would be much the same.
The peaceful rhythm of country life comforted her more than grand ballrooms ever could.
If her days could continue unfolding as beautifully as the patchwork quilts her grandmother lovingly stitched, she would never wish for anything more.
Still…
She accepted.
Because it was the only way to save this house.
Even if it was a foolish bargain, she didn’t mind.
One year with her father seemed a small price to pay for protecting the place that meant everything to her.
“Please leave.”
The Baroness turned back toward the window.
“Grandma…”
“Please, Erna. I need to be alone.”
Her eyes, fixed outside, had grown red with unshed tears.
Unable to find another word, Erna quietly left the bedroom.
A long, lonely shadow stretched behind her as she walked away with heavy, defeated steps.
* * *
The conversation at the gentlemen’s gathering gradually drifted back to horse racing.
Whenever the sons of noble families gathered at the club, the discussion inevitably revolved around horses, hunting, gambling, or women.
The moment the winner of the latest race was mentioned, countless envious eyes turned toward Biern.
The Grand Duke’s stallion had become nearly unbeatable, dominating races across the kingdom.
Ironically, the horse hardly even appeared on the track.
“Biern, since you don’t even care about horse racing, why not sell the horse? There’d be a queue of buyers willing to pay a fortune. I’d gladly be first in line.”
“I’ll pay one and a half times whatever he’s offering.”
“Double.”
Laughter filled the room as everyone waited for Biern’s answer.
He calmly set down his empty wineglass.
“I have no interest in horse racing.”
The room brightened with anticipation.
Then he added evenly,
“But I’m not selling it.”
“Why not?”
“Because it’s mine.”
Groans echoed around the table.
Everyone tried persuading him again, but as always, Biern simply listened with detached indifference.
Peter shook his head.
“You never listen to anyone.”
He laughed as he refilled Biern’s glass.
“What kind of logic is that? You don’t care about it, but you refuse to sell it because it’s yours? You’re impossible.”
Biern ignored the complaint entirely.
Before long, horse racing gave way to the inevitable subject of women.
Resting his chin against one hand, Biern casually glanced toward the grandfather clock standing in the corner.
“By the way, have any of you seen the new maid at the Hardy estate?”
As soon as the names of fashionable beauties had run dry, someone introduced a fresh topic.
“The Hardys hired a new maid? With their finances? Impossible. They’re probably struggling to keep the servants they already have.”
“Maybe she’s been there for a while. Either way, she’s definitely a maid. I saw her entering the estate myself.”
“Don’t tell me you’ve already started chasing after her.”
“Chasing? We simply crossed paths on Tara Avenue. She was so beautiful that I thought I’d introduce myself, but she got frightened and ran away before I could even ask her name. She looked like a country girl—quiet and terribly shy.”
The others burst into laughter.
“Scared her away, did you? With that face of yours, I’m not surprised. If it had been our prince here…”
He pointed at Biern.
“…even the shyest country girl would’ve greeted him with the sweetest smile.”
“Shut up.”
The table erupted in drunken laughter.
Hardy.
Hearing the name that had surfaced so often lately, Biern quietly rose to his feet.
The amber brandy in his glass rippled gently with each measured step.
“It seems everyone arrived early.”
Entering the library on the club’s second floor, Biern greeted the men with an easy smile.
The bank directors seated around the sofa looked up together.
“We’re not early. You’re late.”
“Am I?”
Still smiling, Biern pointed toward the clock.
“Looks perfectly on time to me.”
As if on cue, the clock struck four.
Although he had been drinking since midday, not the slightest trace of intoxication could be found on his face.
Setting aside his empty glass, he accepted the thick stack of documents handed over by the lawyer.
It contained reports on newly issued foreign and municipal bonds entering Lechen’s financial market.
Biern read every page with calm concentration.
The room remained silent as the financiers and lawyers waited for his judgment.
Not long ago, they had joined his banking venture simply because of his wealth, noble status, and influential connections.
They had assumed Prince Biern would be little more than an ornamental figurehead—a handsome scarecrow backed by endless money.
No one had imagined he would become the true architect of their astonishing profits.
Titles and reputations meant little now.
The fortune they had earned through the so-called “Poison Mushroom Prince” was more than enough to make them forget every foolish assumption they had once held.
At last, Biern closed the file.
A faint smile curved his lips.
“Shall we begin?”
It was the smile of a man already anticipating another victory.
