#24
To my prince, who is always full of charm.
Isn’t there a rule of royal etiquette that says you shouldn’t use the phrase “I am always yours” just anywhere? Saying such things carelessly to a woman can lead to big trouble, Archie Albert.
Anyway, with that phrase, you’ve brightened my mood for the entire week. I think I can quietly wait until the day you return to Arle.
Around the start of the hot month.
– From Cordelia, who is half yours.
* * *
To Cordelia, who must be feeling lonely and crying because this big brother of hers has not returned yet.
Were you surprised? I came back earlier than expected.
I’ve just returned to Arle alone after leaving Flynn at the monastery for a while.
Now, you’re probably narrowing your green eyes and asking if I ran away, leaving that poor child behind, but that’s absolutely not the case. It just seemed that our stay at the Lethe Monastery would be quite long.
Not long after we arrived, Cecil arrived at the monastery, almost as if she’d been following us.
It turns out that Bedder had requested help from the royal palace without me knowing. Recently, the number of monsters emerging from the forest near the monastery, which is now part of Flynn’s domain, has increased to the point where the monks can no longer handle it.
It seems like everything around the area fell apart when the barrier near Princess Edwina’s old cabin collapsed. Though Cecil has repaired the broken barrier and dealt with the visible monsters, it doesn’t seem like the problem will be easily resolved.
We might need to request help from Reutlingen. Handling a collapsed barrier is more complicated than expected, and it might require the help of the wizards from the magic tower.
It’s a distance that might take a week at most, or 3 to 4 days if we’re lucky, so nothing much should happen during that time. However, the monks were so frightened that I eventually decided to stay at the monastery and postpone everything else. It’s a blessing for Lethe Monastery and a shame for the people at Arle Palace. My beauty disappearing for over a week will be a great loss to everyone in the palace.
But, Cordelia, do you know what I thought about as soon as I realized I had to stay at the monastery for that long?
It wasn’t about my chamberlain, Edmund, or Her Majesty the Queen, or even the maids who would die if they couldn’t see my face every day.
I thought only of you, my dear friend Coco.
The thought of not being able to exchange letters with you for more than a week felt like a greater tragedy than monsters devouring Bedder.
And I had another thought as well.
If I don’t write to you for a week, won’t Cordelia worry about me?
By now, you’re probably laughing at my arrogance. But truly, these were the only two thoughts that came to my mind.
It’s strange when I think about it now. When we first met, I would thoughtlessly toss aside your letters and run off to the monastery. But now, even a day’s delay in receiving your letters leaves me feeling hollow.
So rest assured, my friend. I won’t let this precious magic box of ours fall to the ground and break. I’ll carry it as carefully as a delicate cloud of mist.
And don’t worry too much about leaving Flynn behind. He’s adapting well, like Lydia from the storybook.
Maybe it’s because Lethe Monastery is close to the forest where he used to live. After meeting the scribes and Noel there, his green eyes, already sparkling, seemed to shine even brighter.
My friend, shall I tell you something you’ll like? Our young lady Noel, who recognized my carriage and ran out without even putting her shoes on properly, looked at Flynn’s face and said:
“Cordelia?”
Come to think of it, that rascal Flynn also has red hair and green eyes, doesn’t he?
And with that round, beautiful face, it’s only natural she’d mistake him for you, even if just for a moment.
Noel has lived her whole life surrounded by monks, rarely seeing a woman.
Even when I told him that Flynn wasn’t Cordelia but the son of Princess Edwina, Noel kept shaking her head, insisting that he was Cordelia.
Flynn, being too pure to be upset about being mistaken for a girl, responded, “Yes, Noel, you can just call me Cordelia.” Given the situation, Noel has become more attached to Flynn than to me. That picture book you took with you was ultimately read not by me but by Flynn. That rascal is surprisingly good at taking care of children.
He turned each page, asking, “Look here, what’s this picture? How does Uncle Lydia look? Is he smiling?” I felt a bit embarrassed, as I had only planned to recite in front of Noel.
Honestly, isn’t it awkward to read a book to someone unless you’re a natural storyteller? But Flynn, how does he do it so well?
As I was tilting my head, curious about that, he came closer, smiling as if he had read my mind, and said this:
“When I was little, my mother used to read to me like this.”
Upon hearing this, Bedder started making a fuss, asking if Princess Edwina had matured into a kind mother who even read books to her child.
Ah, of course, I instructed Bedder to write a letter to you as well. He’ll write it, but he was adamant this time that I shouldn’t peek. As your first pen pal, I was tempted to review it, but I’ll refrain from being possessive and send it to you untouched, lest I risk losing even the half of your heart that I have. If that old man says anything disrespectful, be sure to tell me!
– Your faithful friend, Archie, who sat down in the writing room without a moment to catch his breath upon arriving at Arle Palace.
P.S.:
I have something you’ll enjoy even more than Bedder’s letter. Yes, it’s a letter from Noel. It’s more of a drawing again this time. The red-haired woman seems to be you, and the brown-haired child holding hands with her is Noel. It seems she has improved from just writing her name, as there’s a short sentence this time:
“Nice to meet you, Cordelia.”
Yes, this was actually given to Flynn. As I was about to depart for Arle today, he ran out and handed it to me, asking me to deliver it to the real Cordelia. Isn’t he such a considerate and perceptive child?
* * *
My dear friend, Archie.
I’m not laughing, Your Highness.
Had your letter not arrived for more than a week, your bookcase would likely have been filled with my impatient letters. You know, Archie, how bad I am at waiting.
By the way, Noel’s drawings are getting better. Will there ever be a day when I can meet Noel in person and run around the meadow together? Suddenly, I’m so jealous of Flynn. He’s walking through meadows with you, drinking tea, and now reading picture books to Noel!
I’ll quietly sit and wait for Bedder’s letter, holding onto my envy for that poor and mischievous child who’s doing everything I want to do.
Now, carry our magic box with you, my prince.
P.S.: You’ll never do anything to make me hate you.
July 4th night. From Cordelia, who was delighted to receive your early letter.
———= Postscript =———
To the readers,
Was this letter too short?
If you’re yelling, “Archie, you pathetic fool,” please press the recommend button, and then click to meet old man Bedder in the next post.
<– Edwina’s Bookcase –>
Forced extra chapter (2/2)
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