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CHAPTER 09
Gladys Hartford had possessed a beauty that eclipsed everyone around her.
Erna Hardy possessed the same kind of rare brilliance.
Though the two women came from entirely different worlds, both had the sort of beauty that could stir an entire ballroom the moment they appeared.
Perhaps that was why he had tolerated being caught up in such an absurd scene with her, despite his usual distaste for that sort of attention.
It was a pity.
Such extraordinary beauty had been squandered on a woman of insignificant birth.
Biern felt no guilt acknowledging the thought.
It was simply the truth.
Crude, perhaps.
Cruel, certainly.
But true nonetheless.
Leonit, who had also been watching Erna from across the ballroom, spoke at last.
“Are you absolutely certain there’s nothing between the two of you?”
Without taking his eyes off Erna, Biern answered with an amused smile.
“If you’re interested in her, I could always help you win her over.”
Only then did he lazily turn toward his brother.
“What sort of relationship are you hoping for?”
His elegant smile stood in perfect contrast to the shameless implication behind his words.
“You’re impossible.”
Leonit laughed despite himself.
The ridiculous suggestion finally erased the last trace of suspicion from his mind.
Biern Dniester might be a madman in countless ways.
But he had never once pretended to desire something he did not.
“Why don’t you ask her to dance?” Biern continued, accepting a glass of champagne from a passing servant.
“Surely she wouldn’t dare refuse the Crown Prince.”
“And why would I do that?”
“Because you like her.”
Leonit’s brows drew together.
“What nonsense are you talking about?”
“I merely wondered whether my little brother was concerned that the girl he fancied might be having an affair with his elder brother.”
“Absolutely not.”
Leonit’s answer came without hesitation.
“I’m not interested in a woman like her.”
“You’re far too serious.”
Biern shrugged and drained his champagne in one smooth swallow.
The social season was meant to give young ladies the opportunity to broaden their circle of acquaintances.
Some, however, sought success by less honorable means.
Though such tactics often attracted attention, they attracted resentment just as quickly.
A family willing to parade its daughter through society in hopes of selling her into wealth.
A daughter willing to sacrifice her pride to save her family’s fortunes.
Such women might become famous overnight…
But they rarely earned genuine respect.
Not long afterward, members of the royal family summoned Leonit away.
The younger prince quietly resumed the duties that had once belonged to his brother, carrying them with the ease of someone born for the role.
After taking a few steps, Leonit glanced back.
The silent invitation was obvious.
Come with me.
Biern merely waved a dismissive hand.
He had no desire to accompany him.
More importantly…
Victoria Meyer was still nearby.
He had already greeted her with a polite nod upon arriving, and she had returned the courtesy with a graceful bow.
Setting aside her underhanded methods, Biern genuinely admired the woman’s determination.
The marriage market was her battlefield.
Society balls were nothing more than elaborate games.
Games she played brilliantly.
He understood her all too well.
After all, he enjoyed games himself.
The only difference was that his battlefield happened to be the card table.
Had Victoria Meyer been born a man, Biern suspected even his legendary reputation among gamblers might never have existed.
Compared with those who squandered fortunes in smoke-filled gambling clubs, hers was arguably the healthier obsession.
She gambled only with marriages.
Setting aside his empty glass, Biern reached for another flute of champagne.
Just then, he felt someone watching him.
Turning casually, he followed the persistent gaze—
Only to find Erna Hardy.
The girl who had scarcely dared stand a short while ago jerked in surprise the instant their eyes met.
She sat back down so abruptly that it was almost comical.
Clutching her lace shawl tightly against herself, she lowered her head, cheeks glowing crimson.
It would have looked utterly innocent…
Had Biern not known whose daughter she was.
Or whose protégée.
Without the Hardy name…
Without Victoria Meyer…
He might almost have believed the act.
Instead, he found himself wondering how such an unassuming young woman had somehow managed to make even the infamous Grand Duke break into a cold sweat.
Still avoiding his gaze, Erna lowered her head even further and began murmuring something beneath her breath.
Biern narrowed his eyes.
What ridiculous trick is she planning now?
Before Victoria Meyer could somehow involve him again, he quietly turned away.
Whoever became her next victim had his deepest sympathies.
“Biern!”
A crowd immediately descended upon him.
“You truly don’t know Lady Hardy?”
“There isn’t something between the two of you?”
Peter stepped forward with unusual seriousness.
“Please tell me the answer is no.”
With a faint sigh, Biern settled lazily into an armchair and emptied the last of his drink.
“You should spend less time imagining nonsense.”
His lips curved into a leisurely smile.
“And more time sobering up.”
* * *
“Biern needs to remarry.”
King Philip Dniester broke the silence so abruptly that the words seemed to startle even himself.
“I truly believe it’s the best thing for him.”
He looked expectantly toward the Queen.
Isabel quietly set down her teacup.
A faint crease appeared between her brows.
With the kingdom at peace and flourishing, only one concern continued to weigh upon Philip’s heart.
His eldest son.
“Biern doesn’t even listen to you,” she replied gently.
“What makes you think he’ll listen now?”
“Then we’ll simply have to make him.”
A quiet sigh escaped Isabel.
“I don’t think Your Majesty knows his own son as well as he believes.”
Spring flowers perfumed the evening air.
The royal couple sat together on the palace terrace, surrounded by blossoms in full bloom.
“I even asked whether there was someone he liked.”
Philip rubbed his forehead.
“He flatly denied it.”
“And then had the nerve to ask whether one failed marriage wasn’t already enough.”
His gray eyes darkened.
Gladys Hartford.
Even now, her name lingered like an unpleasant shadow over the kingdom.
Philip had expected Biern to react strongly upon hearing she would attend the season’s festivities.
Instead…
His son had behaved with infuriating composure.
Frankly, Philip had been preparing himself for disaster should the two ever cross paths again.
If such a catastrophe truly occurred…
He half-seriously suspected he might end up declaring war on Lars himself.
“Don’t worry.”
Isabel smiled reassuringly.
“The chances of Biern meeting Gladys again are slim.”
She understood her husband’s worries without needing them spoken aloud.
“You know as well as I do what that divorce cost him.”
Philip nodded silently.
He remembered that night all too clearly.
“I wish to relinquish my position as Crown Prince.”
“And I wish to divorce.”
Biern had spoken calmly.
Without anger.
Without tears.
“I’ve made my decision.”
“Nothing will change it.”
He had been only twenty-two years old.
His face had remained expressionless.
Only the unbearable despair burning behind those gray eyes betrayed the devastation beneath.
Philip had surrendered.
Not because he agreed…
But because he understood.
As King, there had been nothing he could do.
As a father…
Even less.
After a long silence, he sighed.
“Still… we have to persuade him to marry again.”
Isabel smiled faintly.
“We’ve tried before.”
“If Biern ever marries again, it will be because he chooses to.”
“That’s exactly the problem.”
Philip groaned.
“He has no intention of choosing.”
After a thoughtful pause, he looked at his wife again.
“…That Hardy girl.”
“She truly means nothing to him?”
“Leonit asked him several times.”
“He wasn’t interested.”
“I see…”
Philip looked disappointed.
“You seem rather taken with Miss Hardy.”
“Not particularly.”
He smiled.
“But if she—or any other respectable young lady—could make Biern fall in love again…”
His voice hardened slightly.
“…so long as she’s nothing like Gladys.”
The bitterness remained impossible to hide.
Before long, Philip smiled again.
“We’ll soon be moving to the Summer Palace.”
“Let’s keep a closer eye on him this season.”
“Perhaps…”
His eyes brightened with quiet hope.
“…before the year ends, we’ll finally see him with a family of his own.”
Isabel nodded.
She knew it was little more than wishful thinking.
But for her husband’s sake…
She allowed herself to hope as well.
“I pray he finds happiness again.”
* * *
Erna.
Erna Hardy.
It seemed Biern could scarcely go a day without hearing her name.
Especially among the kingdom’s most notorious young libertines.
“I sent Lady Hardy flowers days ago.”
One nobleman sighed dramatically.
“Still no reply.”
“I wonder whether the maid lost my card.”
Hearing the now familiar name yet again, Biern slowly turned his head.
Several defeated gamblers lounged in one corner of the card room, discussing women instead of cards.
“Why not ask her yourself?”
“She rarely attends parties, but she’s occasionally seen around town.”
“I would—if that terrifying maid ever left her side.”
The speaker groaned.
“That woman guards Lady Hardy like a demon hound.”
The table burst into laughter.
The game had ended.
As usual…
Biern had won.
“Your Highness.”
One gentleman sighed dramatically.
“At this rate you’ll bankrupt every gambling table in the kingdom.”
“What an unfair world.”
Another shook his head.
“Even Lady Luck favors handsome men.”
Ignoring every complaint, Biern quietly left the card room.
Morning sunlight streamed through the windows as he crossed the club toward the terrace overlooking the square.
The others naturally followed.
Peter swirled the drink a waiter had just served him.
“Why didn’t you send flowers to Lady Hardy?”
Erna again.
Resting his chin on one hand, Biern lazily lifted his glass of whiskey.
Ice chimed softly against crystal.
“You do realize…”
another man remarked,
“…that marrying Lady Hardy means inheriting Viscount Hardy’s debts as well.”
“So what if I can afford them?”
someone answered.
Peter sighed dramatically.
“In that case, Count Bergen may soon disown his idiot son.”
No one disagreed.
Everyone understood exactly what Viscount Hardy intended.
His daughter was bait.
Nothing more.
No distinguished noble family would willingly overlook such transparent ambition.
At best…
She might marry a wealthy nobleman of modest standing.
Or the son of a rich merchant.
Anything beyond that would require a miracle.
Even Victoria Meyer would struggle.
Given the Hardy family’s circumstances…
That alone would already be a remarkable success.
Suddenly Peter leapt to his feet.
“There!”
“It’s Lady Hardy!”
Biern glanced up lazily.
Across Tara Avenue, two women were walking side by side.
One was a lively young maid whose energetic stride bordered on bouncing.
The other followed at a leisurely pace beneath a lace parasol.
The broad-brimmed hat concealed her face.
Even so…
There was no mistaking Erna Hardy.
She was the only woman in Schwerin who walked through the modern city as though she had stepped straight out of a century-old painting.
