Prince 25

#25.

To Miss Cordelia, who must be shaking her head in disbelief while reading our prince’s letter by now.

Hello, this is the scribe Beder. Have you been well?

After it was decided that our prince would be staying in the monastery for an extended period, the first thing I worried about was Miss Cordelia.

No, to be exact, what I really worried about was our Prince Arch, who seems to be addicted to exchanging letters with Miss Cordelia.

I told him several times that it would only take about a week, but he insisted on bringing the book storage box and headed to the Arle Palace. Seeing him like that, I couldn’t help but think this could only be called an ‘addiction.’

Moreover, after returning from fetching the book storage box at Arles, the prince’s behavior was even more remarkable. He burst into my scriptorium, clutching the box with both hands, and with a stern expression, just like Princess Cecilia, he warned me that if I dropped or damaged it, he would tear up the manuscript I had just finished. How ruthless!

By now, Miss Cordelia, you might be a bit weary of our prince’s obsession.

But seeing him out there, playing joyfully with Noel and Duke Florian like an angel, I can only plead for you to forgive our prince. Though I must admit, being charmed by that lovely face should come to an end someday.

Noel and Duke Florian have grown even closer while Prince Arch was away at the Arle Palace.

Well, it’s no wonder, considering that young Noel had never interacted with an adult woman other than Princess Cecilia.

Yes, Miss Cordelia.

This old fox noticed it right away.

That Duke Florian is, in fact, a woman.

At first, I was a bit uncertain.

The face and posture are undeniably feminine, but I wondered if someone as astute as our Prince Arch could really be unaware of it.

But my intuition about these things is never wrong, so I discreetly asked Princess Cecilia before she left for the Mage Tower. The princess wasn’t even surprised and answered me directly.

“Beder, it’s obvious, isn’t it?”

“Yes, Princess. Anyone would think so, looking at that youthful face.”

“As expected, that fool Arch doesn’t realize.”

“…Could it be that Prince Arch knows but is just pretending not to?”

“No. He’s clueless. Even Mother has a rough idea, but he’s the only one who doesn’t know.”

“Is that… possible? I mean, Prince Arch is well aware of women, and he’s not… I mean, he’s quite sharp…”

As I stammered in confusion, Princess Cecilia just shook her head.

“Just keep quiet, Beder. Let’s see when that fool finally figures it out.”

With those words, Princess Cecilia mounted her horse and left.

Still, I couldn’t believe that our prince wouldn’t notice something like that, so I hurried to him and subtly asked about Duke Florian. But our prince, with an innocent face, just said this.

“Florian has a secret, you know. It’s almost within my grasp, yet I can’t quite catch it. My clever Coco seems to have figured it out, though.”

“You mean Miss Cordelia has noticed?”

“Yes, isn’t she amazing? She figures everything out just from the letters.”

And then, he went on for about an hour, proudly talking about you.

Realizing how things had unfolded, I now understand that even you had noticed that Duke Florian is a woman.

And then, a sudden sadness washed over me. I began to worry that maybe our prince, whom I cherished like a son, wasn’t as sharp as I had always thought.

Nevertheless, I continue my diligent work as a scribe, fighting these doubts. Thanks to the paper you provided, the manuscript I was working on last time was easily completed, so now I have some free time. It’s the perfect moment to bring up old stories.

Last time, I told you about how Princess Edwina was held as a hostage in Reutlingen and returned to Winterton after three years. I also mentioned that she left the very book storage box now before me here in the monastery.

As the princess instructed, I’ve kept this book storage box safely in the corner of the first scriptorium, wiping it clean every day, so not a speck of dust would settle on it. However, I never thought to open it and clean the inside.

I was hesitant to touch it, thinking that if I accidentally broke something, it would be a disaster. Besides, when the princess first showed it to me, I confirmed that there was nothing inside except a bracelet with three interlinked chains, so I wasn’t particularly curious about the interior.

Although I kept it carefully, I never expected the princess to return for it. She’s always been the type to leave her treasures at the monastery and never come back for them. There’s even a box in the corner of the first scriptorium filled with Princess Edwina’s dolls, jewelry, and books.

Oh dear, speaking of the princess, I’ve started to digress again. Please forgive this old man for being reminded of the past and don’t rush me too much. Now, I will finally tell you the story you have been eagerly waiting to hear.

Miss Cordelia,

The story I’m about to share is a secret that this old man has kept to himself for a very long time.

Within this story, there may be words so blasphemous that I could be arrested for treason and executed.

So please, do not show this letter to anyone, and if you are in an unsafe place, I ask that you read it and burn it immediately.

Now, let us begin the long tale.

After Princess Edwina left to find Sir Arthur Gillen, the late king searched every corner of the land to find his last remaining child, but to no avail.

There were rumors that the Empire had taken the princess as a hostage again.

If that had been true, the king would have had to wage another war to get her back, but he couldn’t do that.

It wasn’t just because he was certain to lose. By that time, the actual power of the kingdom was in the hands of Duke Charles Wellesley, and the noble council would never have permitted a war to retrieve the princess.

In a way, this was inevitable. The war with the Empire was a reckless endeavor by the late king, and it cost many lives in Winterton.

After Prince Edwin died, the late king abandoned the capital and fled south, but Duke Charles Wellesley and his army remained to defend the palace. Moreover, at the end of the war, King Alfred had to kneel before the Emperor of Reutlingen and admit defeat, shattering the dignity of the Winterton royal family.

It was unthinkable for a name like Winterton, which had endured for over a century, to suddenly disappear and be replaced by another on the throne, but the late king had fallen too far to restore the authority of the crown.

Still, the late king seemed to believe that things would improve if Princess Edwina returned from captivity and the succession line was secured, but the princess herself was as cold as stone towards him upon her return.

Why did she react that way to her father after reuniting after so long?

Well, it’s obvious.

When Prince Edwin was alive, the king paid no attention to the princess.

After meeting his second wife, he became so infatuated with her that he created a nonexistent divorce law to oust the queen and focused all his efforts on educating Prince Edwin, completely ignoring Princess Edwina’s mother.

Yes, it’s likely that the reason our princess was able to endure her captivity in Reutlingen was that she had never been truly cherished in Winterton. The princess was, in a way… neglected, if put bluntly, or allowed to grow freely, if put more kindly.

So, if you were to tell the princess now that she must help her father secure the foundations of the Winterton royal family and marry Charles Wellesley, do you think she would comply?

After suffering in Reutlingen and returning more mature, there was no way she would heed the words of her father, who had become a toothless tiger.

The conflict between the princess and the late king only deepened. Just before Sir Arthur Gillen appeared in Arle, the princess had already declared that she would not marry Duke Charles Wellesley, leading to a fierce argument with the late king.

When the late king told her to leave if she was going to act this way, the princess agreed and left alone without a single maid, heading to the Lethe Monastery. A few days later, she was reluctantly brought back to the Arles Palace.

Given all this, who would have joined in the belated regret of a father wanting to wage war against Reutlingen for his daughter? Persisting in such a course would have only resulted in the king being pitifully driven from the throne.

Knowing the situation, I sometimes wondered if the princess left not because of Sir Arthur, but simply because she wanted to leave Arles.

My thoughts weren’t entirely wrong, but they weren’t completely accurate either.

As I mentioned before, Princess Edwina came to Lethe Monastery six months after she went missing.

When she came to see me, the princess seemed somehow different.

The bright, verdant eyes that had once been full of light now held a depth that hadn’t been there before, and her already sparse words had become even fewer.

But the biggest change was in her expression. On that small face, there was a glow of hope so bright that it made the onlooker’s heart skip a beat.

“Princess, are you so happy to have left Arles?”

I think this is what I asked her at first. The princess shook her head.

“Sometimes I think of him. Isn’t it strange? Even my father, whom I found so detestable.”

“Then why did you leave, Princess? I thought you left Arles out of boredom. Did you really leave to follow Sir Arthur Gillen, as the others say?”

“Perhaps.”

“Do you love him?”

“No.”

“Then why, Princess? Why did you abandon everything and leave?”

When I asked her this, the princess, uncharacteristically hesitant, stammered as she replied.

“That man waited outside my castle for 99 days. In the end, he neither ate, slept, nor closed his eyes. Standing there for so long was an agonizing ordeal. But after waiting for 99 days, he left with just one day remaining. I was simply curious. I wondered why.”

The idea that she left out of mere curiosity seemed so typical of the princess that I couldn’t help but chuckle. I even thought that Sir Arthur Gillen must have understood our princess very well. Princess Edwina was unique and intelligent from a young age, and like many smart people, her curiosity was boundless.

In any case, seeing our princess so happy, I felt a surge of joy myself, thinking that everything would turn out fine.

This irreverent scribe thought that as long as the princess was happy, it didn’t matter if she never returned to Arles.

“Then, Princess, have you found Sir Arthur Gillen and satisfied your curiosity?”

The princess shook her head. She told me she hadn’t found a single trace of him yet.

I asked the princess again.

“Then why do you seem so happy, Princess?”

“I’ve thought of a way to find him.”

Yes, Miss Cordelia, someone as astute as you must have guessed by now.

The method she thought of was the book storage box.

Or perhaps it was the bracelet inside the box.

The very bracelet that the princess had given me when she returned after her time as a hostage.

I quickly went to the first scriptorium and brought out the book storage box that I had kept so carefully.

But when I lifted it after so long, it felt quite heavy. Moreover, I heard a rustling sound inside, as if something was moving. I worried that a butterfly might have gotten in and died over the summer, so I hurriedly opened the box, fearing the princess would be startled.

But as soon as I opened the box, papers tumbled out like bursting summer fruits, scattering across the floor. I couldn’t help but gasp in surprise. The sound must have startled Princess Edwina, for she entered the first scriptorium, and the princess…

The princess didn’t scream.

Her large green eyes grew even larger than usual, and she stood there, her mouth agape, watching the papers pour out of the box.

The princess sat down on the floor. She began to gather the papers.

Miss Cordelia, you know, don’t you? This book storage box isn’t particularly large, but it’s big enough to hold two or three books, which means it could easily contain over a hundred sheets of paper. But there were so many papers in that box that it seemed as though it might burst. Every single sheet was tightly packed.

It wasn’t until much later that I realized they were letters.

Letters that someone had sent to our princess.

The princess likely never imagined that something like that would be inside the box.

She had come for the bracelet, not intending to take the book storage box with her.

Princess Edwina sat on the floor like a person in a daze, reading the letters one by one. I couldn’t bring myself to ask what they said.

An hour passed, then another.

As the princess didn’t move, I too remained standing there, and time continued to flow.

Soft white snow began to fall gently on the scriptorium, where the winter sunlight had been shining brightly.

From somewhere, the savory scent of food began to waft in, as if preparations for dinner were beginning.

However, I could not go out for dinner. The letter did not end, no matter how much I read.

That day, for the first time, I saw Princess Edwina cry.

Even in her childhood, when the Queen had taken her to the Lethe Monastery after being abandoned by the late king,

Even when she had come for a summer outing and tripped over a stone, causing her to bleed,

Even when she had returned after enduring the harsh captivity,

I had never seen the princess cry.

Lady Cordelia, have you ever witnessed such a sight?

People who do not usually cry, when they do, they cry intensely.

If their emotions are controllable, they swallow back such tears, but when these people cannot hold back and cry, it results in a truly tremendous outburst.

The princess cried as if the world had collapsed.

I stood still, waiting for the crying to end.

The snow outside the transcription room began to subside, and when everything became so dark that I could no longer see her crying figure, the princess’s endless tears finally ceased.

The princess rummaged through the bookcase to find a bracelet, then carefully gathered the papers scattered on the floor as if they were precious treasures, placed them in a bundle, and immediately set off.

I caught hold of the princess, who was leaving without a final goodbye, and asked her,

“Aren’t you taking the bookcase with you?”

I suppose I said this because I knew that asking her to leave the next morning, pleading for her not to go, or asking where she was headed would all be in vain.

The princess stared at me intently and then said,

“Keep it.”

And after thinking for a moment, she added,

“I may send a message sometime.”

It was a full month later when I foolishly understood what she meant. While cleaning the transcription room, I opened a box and found a few sheets of paper inside.

And there was a short message written in an unfamiliar handwriting.

Yes, it was a letter from Princess Edwina.

Do not misunderstand, Lady Cordelia. I am just an old, not-so-bright scribe, unlike you. The princess and I did not exchange affectionate letters like Prince Arch and you do.

The letter contained a message to find Sir Arthur Gillen and reassure him that she was doing well, and that all future letters should be delivered to a certain lady whom the princess considered her only friend. This lady was the princess’s first handmaiden and closest companion, who had accompanied her even during her captivity in Reutlingen.

I wrote a short letter back, hoping that this would somehow reach the princess.

It was a very brief letter asking if she didn’t need to inform the late king.

Whether I guessed correctly or not, the princess sent back two letters in reply a few days later.

[No, don’t say anything. Don’t tell anyone, not a word.

You are the only one who knows that I am doing well, Bedder.]

The next letter was rather frightening.

[If you tell anyone, I’ll kill you. Understand?

If they seem truly pitiful, persuade them with your best efforts.

And don’t write to me again.

You’re fine, but you talk too much, and that’s a flaw.]

..Did I mention? Princess Edwina, like Prince Arch, can be kind, but she is also as steadfast as Princess Cecil, never speaking empty words. So, what could this powerless old man do but live by speaking less?

And then, about a month later, Princess Edwina sent me another letter.

I discreetly informed the lady the princess had mentioned.

Though that lady had married a high-ranking person and could not easily come to the monastery, she managed to visit nearly every month under the pretext of ordering new manuscripts.

She sometimes shared news of the princess with me.

She said the princess had found a home to live in with Sir Arthur Gillen, and that they had held a private wedding.

The princess mentioned that she had made strawberry juice for the first time and decided not to make peach jam again because it took too long.

When the princess asked what to do about a nettle sting, I fetched medicine on the lady’s behalf. When the princess inquired about what to do if a child suddenly developed a fever, the lady and I combined our efforts to find ways to brew cold tea and prepare chicken soup.

But even this correspondence abruptly ceased after about two years.

The lady once said that the princess had mentioned in a letter,

[When I truly start living well, I won’t write anymore.]

The lady begged the princess to continue writing, but as always, Princess Edwina wasn’t someone who listened to others.

When contact was cut off like a lie, I only wished for one thing.

That the princess would live happily ever after with Sir Arthur Gillen.

I never imagined they might have passed away.

Nor did I suspect that the princess might have had a child—a daughter, no less.

…This story has gone on too long. Perhaps this is why they say not to ask an old man too many questions.

Now, this is everything I know about the bookcase. After the princess’s letters stopped coming, I decided to forget about the box and pushed it aside.

Of course, I didn’t throw it away. But the scriptorium was small, and the number of books owned by our scriptorium continued to grow. As time went on, more ink, reed pens, and goose quills accumulated, along with an increasing amount of paper. The bookcase was pushed into a corner by all these things. But who could have guessed that Prince Arch, that wretched… well, who could have imagined that he would take it?

Lady Cordelia, I don’t know why you have one half of the bookcase. But if Princess Edwina knew that Prince Arch was exchanging letters with you, she would undoubtedly be delighted.

Even now, she might be laughing up in heaven, saying, “Well done, Bedder. I’m glad I entrusted the bookcase to you.”

Yes, that’s exactly what she might be saying.

– On a waning night in the First Hot Month, Scribe Bedder Lang.

* * *

Dear Bedder,

I almost arrived late to work because I was reading your letter.

Putting aside my gratitude for your long letter, may I ask you one brief question?

Is the name of that anonymous lady Adelaide by any chance?

– Sending love to everyone at Lethe Monastery, Cordelia.

———= Afterword =———

To the readers who have worked hard to read this long piece,

I promised to serialize one chapter per day, but it turned out to be 15,000 characters long, so I had no choice but to split it into two parts. Please forgive me. I will take a break tomorrow ㅠ Bedder, that talkative old man… I won’t let him off easily…

P.S.: To the readers who are sending comments in letter form to match the epistolary style of the novel, you’re so cute. Also, I think your comments are far more interesting than my writing, so every morning I eagerly look forward to reading them! I will compile and post the answers to the questions I can respond to. Why isn’t there a reply function for comments on Joara?! (Probably because of people like me…)

P.S.2: Thank you so much for the recommendations and subscriptions. I can’t believe it has surpassed 6,000…ㅠㅠ sob sob.

<– With love, Arch Albert –>