#7.
Surely, to Miss Cordelia Gray, who must have a very wide stride,
You must be sleeping by now, right? It’s fortunate that the box didn’t make a noise when the letter arrived.
By the way, your last letter reminded me once again of the shock I felt when I first received a letter from you.
A desk right next to the bed, and a room that’s only three steps away with big strides? The place where you live is truly peculiar. With a gray magic box that produces amazing books in 10 minutes, it’s surprising that someone as wonderful as you doesn’t have a better home. What on earth is the king of that country doing?
I’m not your prince, but as a royal, I thought about what I could do for you.
While wandering around my room, I found this, and when I placed it in the bookshelf, it fit perfectly as if it was made for this purpose.
This book was created when I was barely twenty, during the time I hid in the scriptorium of the monastery to avoid the queen who was trying to marry me off early.
It’s a collection of old stories passed down in the Kingdom of Winterton, so I can’t claim to have written it, but I’d like to take a little pride in being the one who gathered the stories into a book.
Are you laughing at the idea of an ambitionless Prince Arch avoiding fox hunting to do such a thing? My mother was actually very disappointed, expecting me to produce a grand treatise or something substantial, knowing I was cooped up with vegetarians in the monastery. The only reader who welcomed this book was my horse, Sherlock, who enjoys chewing on paper as if he were a goat.
However, I feel a bit proud of having created this book. I particularly like that I indulged in the luxury of making such a splendid book with just stories, rather than tedious religious texts.
Many people contributed to this book. The finest goldsmith of the Arles Palace engraved the knight and princess, and the blue and green jewels that symbolize the Winterton royal family adorned it.
The manuscript was done by Bedder, the best scribe of the Lethe Monastery scriptorium, and the green used in the illustrations came from wild plums, not verdigris, giving it a fresh look, while the blue was made from lapis lazuli, making it perfectly clear.
As it’s my first book, the content might be laughable, but I pride myself on its craftsmanship, which I believe is second to none.
Though it isn’t as light and practical as the books you produce from your gray box, please accept it as a small token of gratitude from your correspondent friend, Archie.
If it doesn’t meet the strict aesthetic standards of your world, you can melt the gold or sell it and remake it. The gold and gems used could buy a small house. Nevertheless, the contents hold my thoughts of you, so I hope you’ll keep it in your slightly larger room.
On the tenth day of the pale green moon, at dawn.
-Archie, who may live thoughtlessly but occasionally thinks of his people
* * *
To Prince Archie, whose heart for his people is as vast as the sea,
You are a book-maker!
I never dreamed of it. Why on earth did Ann Selene omit such an amazing story? This is a truly splendid and wonderful book.
I’ve never seen anything so beautiful in my life. Whether it was always this way, or if our magic box not only delivers objects and letters but also the long time between us, it seems as if the signs of age have added to its beauty.
I couldn’t flip through it quickly but cautiously read the first page. To my surprise, the first two stories on the page are exactly the same as those in a recently globally hit animation!
Did the person who made that movie have a magic box like me and hear the story from someone in Winterton? Or are myths and folktales similar in all worlds?
Archie, I didn’t realize you could make such a wonderful book. I knew you had a way with words, though.
Not only are you skilled with words, but your imagination is impressive as well. I never thought our little magic box (is it okay to call it that?) could become a medium for bartering. Now, I regret the box’s size. If it were just a bit bigger, I might be able to step into your world and meet you directly.
During this morning’s meeting, it caught Editor Marianne’s attention more than the manuscript. Garrett, who sat next to me, scoffed and asked where I got such a shabby fake, but Marianne’s eyes changed immediately. She isn’t usually so excitable, but she sharply questioned where I found such a thing.
I lied and said I bought it for a bargain at a Portobello antique shop. I couldn’t very well say it was a gift from a prince. Marianne, doubting that I could find such an item at Portobello, insisted we take it to Sotheby’s right away. Sotheby’s is a place that appraises and auctions old and valuable items.
What will the experts at Sotheby’s conclude about this book? Can they even dare to assess its value?
The thought of haughty appraisers debating over this book gives me a thrill.
Prince, I won’t sell this book to buy a house, nor will I melt it down as you suggested (that would be impossible, it’s too beautiful). I’ll treasure it in a corner of my small room as a luxurious gift from my pen pal.
Seeing Marianne muttering strange things and making calls here and there, I wonder if one day the villains from Sotheby’s (that’s just an image I’ve made up, I haven’t actually met these people) will show up at my door to steal this book.
P.S.
Agatha Christie said there’s no way to stop someone from recommending books to the world. I’m one of those notorious book recommenders. Since you kindly sent a book you made yourself, I want to give you a small gift too. I’ve carefully selected three books for you.
One is a detective novel featuring a detective named Sherlock, just like your loyal horse. Another is a play by a talented man named Shakespeare, titled “Macbeth.”
And the last one is… a dreadful love story that will steal your night away.
I hope at least one of these matches your taste.
6.10. Night. Cordelia.
* * *
06-10-MON-PM7:30
From: Garrett <[email protected]>
To: Cordelia <[email protected]>
You said you were busy looking for the manuscript yesterday, but you won’t miss our evening walk today, right? I’ve circled around Russell Square and now I’m at the second-hand bookstore in Holborn. If you have a book to recommend, let me know one.
* * *
06-10-MON-PM7:45
From: Cordelia <[email protected]>
To: Garrett <[email protected]>
You know more about books than I do.
I don’t really like recommending books.
And please refrain from emailing outside of work hours.
* * *
My dear friend Cordelia,
Was my greeting too intense? Then let me address you like this:
My dear madcap book recommender, Cordelia.
You burdened me with all sorts of complicated tasks, making me dread tomorrow, and now you’ve given me such a book. I just read the beginning of *Wuthering Heights*.
Cordelia, do you know? The moments when a book is so fascinating that you can’t continue reading, and you momentarily set it aside, groaning “Aargh,” while pacing around the room. This is the first time I’ve experienced such a thing since I read a dragon mythology book from Balear as a child.
Is there such a love story in the world?
Since I saw Heathcliff’s desperate cries to open the window and let Cathy’s ghost in, begging her to come once more as a ghost, my heart has been racing.
Cordelia, for giving me this book, I send you a million kisses. This is truly a mad book.
But to name such a wild love story as your favorite book, Cordelia, you are quite an intriguing woman. Have you perhaps experienced such love?
I should have realized when you cunningly asked me to write letters daily to keep the nights from being lonely! You might be a far more skilled master of love than I thought.
Genius of love, romance, and book recommendations, my friend.
Because of this wicked deed of yours, my task of persuading the queen will likely be postponed to the day after tomorrow. I’ll have to spend all night reading this book.
So, my evil sleep-stealer, Cordelia, I hope you sleep soundly in my stead tonight. And keep your windows securely fastened.
On the night of the tenth day of the pale green moon. Archie.
* * *
To Prince Archie, who brings utmost joy to a book recommender,
You are probably busy reading *Wuthering Heights* without having time to read my letter, right? I’m glad you’ve come to know Heathcliff’s mad love.
As for your question about whether I’ve had a love like Heathcliff and Cathy’s, unfortunately, I have nothing to say. My romantic score is abysmally low.
I’ve had a few crushes, but strangely, as soon as those people started liking me, I immediately began to dislike them.
I once heard a saying, “I wouldn’t want to join any club that would have me as a member.” I guess it’s something like that. There’s an inexplicable part of me that doesn’t want to love a man who likes someone like me. This must be a tale you, a prince, cannot relate to at all, right?
In a novel I read today, there was a country where books were banned for political reasons.
Two young men in that country secretly smuggled and read books. One day, they read a passionate book that awakened their desires, passions, impulses, and love, leaving them extremely excited…
One of them, having read the book first and becoming overwhelmingly emotional, runs off to find his lover. The lovers experience their first time together under a tree, staining a white handkerchief red. They continue their passion, again and again, all through the night.
Meanwhile, the other friend, filled with madness after reading the book all night, decides to transcribe it. But in a place where books are banned, paper is scarce, so the friend ends up stripping off his wool coat in the freezing cold and meticulously copying the text onto old goat skin with a fountain pen. This, too, goes on all night long.
It seems I belong to the latter group, the type who, when excited, rushes to transcribe a book rather than to have sex. Quite a lamentable matter. As for you, the playboy prince, you must be the former. I’m envious.
Please let me hear from you again after you finish more important matters than reading books.
June 10, 2019, at dawn.
Cordelia, the wicked and silent book recommender who is very satisfied with the title ‘my evil one.’
* * *
My irreverent friend Cordelia,
Your letter is highly stimulating and extremely amusing to read at this hour. Perhaps even more so than *Wuthering Heights*.
A friend who gets so excited by reading a book that they run off to have sex…
I should have realized that I belong to the latter group, the one that diligently transcribes, given that I refused to marry and cloistered myself in a monastery, frequenting the scriptorium.
Anyway, just knowing you think of me in that way makes me swell with pride.
Goodnight, my friend who pretends to be quiet and calm but is filled with lewd thoughts.
P.S. Perhaps the reason you disliked the men you had crushes on once they liked you back was simply that you loved them less. In any case, I would give those men some credit. They must be quite discerning to recognize and like you.
With love, Archie Albert.
———= Author’s Note ———=
To my readers who make my heart flutter with comments about how thrilling this story is,
Thank you for the favorites, recommendations, and comments!
Cecilia will make a reappearance tomorrow, so please look forward to it.
P.S.
The book that Archie gave to Cordelia is inspired by the *Codex Aureus* made in the medieval times. I’ve posted an image in the announcements, so curious readers, please check it out!
<– Lady Macbeth –>