#38
To my impatient friend Cordelia,
If we hadn’t had a bookcase, and it had taken days for my letter to reach you after I sent it, you probably would have found a way to come to my side, wouldn’t you?
Perhaps you would have even joined a monastery, dressed as a man like Flynn, and tried to become a scribe. However, old Beder is actually very meticulous when judging scribe qualities. With your handwriting, you would probably be stuck with me, just sharpening quill pens.
Perhaps it’s more likely that I should come to your world. I’ve heard too often, even as a prince, that I’m the type who wouldn’t starve no matter where I went—words that aren’t usually said to someone of my rank.
Are you already bursting with frustration, wondering why I’m rambling? But if you read all of Lady Josephine’s letters, you would start imagining the same things as me. You might even imagine that one day we could meet, transcending time and space.
But for now, I’ll keep the stories I want to share with you in my heart and show you the letter that Lady Josephine sent.
On the night of the fifth day of the Harvest Moon.
—Hoping this letter reaches you before your patience runs out, Archie Albert.
* * *
To Edwina’s daughter,
And Adelaide’s son,
Prince Archibald is probably startled by the start of this letter. After all, what Duke Florian asked of me was to write a letter for Edwina’s daughter to read.
However, Your Highness,
At the moment when your eyes, which resemble those of Charles Wellesley, met mine and Duke Florian’s, I realized it. That no matter what I wrote, you would be the first one to read it.
Shall I tell you a little about when Anne, Adelaide, and I attended bride school together as children? Back then, Charles Wellesley was the idol of both Adelaide and me. Nowhere in the Kingdom of Winterton could you find a man as elegant and refined as the Duke of Wellesley.
His graceful movements were not only evident in dance or swordsmanship but shone everywhere. He had a particular talent for slyly stealing Adelaide’s handkerchief or the embroidery projects we painstakingly completed while charming us with a mischievous smile.
“I knew you’d lose it, so I kept it safe for you.”
He’d return the items the next day with that excuse, and Adelaide would just nod her thanks as if nothing had happened. Looking back now, it seems they liked each other even back then. Whether Anne knew that is another matter.
Anne always disapproved of how Adelaide softened around Wellesley, though it wasn’t quite jealousy—it was something stronger. She always called him,
“That thieving rascal.”
Adelaide and I would scold Anne, saying you can’t call your fiancé such things, but Anne was never one to back down easily. I was too young to fully understand the feelings between Adelaide and Wellesley and didn’t have Anne’s strong will, so I just admired Wellesley’s handsome face one moment and joined Anne in criticizing him the next.
Prince Archibald, you are so very much like Charles Wellesley and Adelaide.
Duke Florian, you are a perfect mirror of Anne.
With both of them gone now, it is strange that I am left to write this letter.
But even if parents are spared the fate of dying young, they rarely share stories from their youth.
So, you have come to the right storyteller. You’ve come to me, who knows all about your parents and has waited for a chance to share their stories.
I became the maid of my friend Anne—Princess Edwina—when I was just twelve years old.
It was unusual for someone only two years older than the princess to take on such a role, but it happened because of our special bond. It was an honor for the Yelling family; a promise of royal court access, a chance to learn etiquette at the princess’s side, and a preparation for a favorable marriage.
However, Princess Edwina felt guilty for appointing me as her maid for years afterward. She believed that if it hadn’t been for that decision, I wouldn’t have been taken as a hostage to Reutlingen.
I assume you’ve already heard from Beder how we ended up in the Reutlingen Empire, how we lived there, and the strange way we returned.
I have no desire to retell that story. The memories of those times are filled with such horrific experiences that recalling them brings pain.
Yet, even in the midst of suffering, there were moments of joy. The time Princess Edwina met Sir Arthur Gillen for the first time was one of those moments. So don’t feel too sorry for asking me to share this story.
The life we lived as hostages in the Empire was far more humble and miserable than anything known in Winterton. We didn’t even have time to adapt to the customs of Reutlingen before we were thrust into the reality of having “nothing”—especially “nothing to eat.”
What got me through those hardships was the lively question mark floating in my head: my girlish curiosity about Reutlingen’s second prince, Reiner Selene von Reutlingen.
He was an odd figure. Tall but scrawny, he looked much younger than his age. His crooked walk made him seem almost deficient, though his angelic beauty erased much of that impression.
But the strangest thing about him was his residence.
We Winterton people stayed in a dreary and dim northern wing of the Empire’s grand and ornate castle—the most desolate part, where no sunlight entered. Right beside it was a bizarre gray palace, almost as if it had been hastily built, with a roof stacked on top of another roof and no windows. That was where the Empire’s second prince, Reiner von Reutlingen, lived.
It was odd enough that a prince, beloved by the Empress, was forced to live in such a place, but what was even stranger was that he came to visit us nearly every day.
His visits started without any explanation or notice. From the very day we arrived, he entered our prison-like quarters with a beaming smile and said,
“Edwina, are you there?”
Had he met Princess Edwina on her arrival?
Had he perhaps fallen in love with her at first sight?
I remember speculating these things late into the night, reverting to my girlhood self. Though, in truth, it was I who gossiped about the prince’s doll-like beauty, while Princess Edwina remained indifferent.
“What a crazy fool,” she muttered before falling asleep.
But that crazy fool’s sudden and meaningless visits continued the next day and the day after that.
It only took a day or two before the fear of saying the wrong thing and suffering the consequences faded. One of our sharp companions brought us the information that the second prince had fallen out of favor with the emperor and had been completely pushed out of the line of succession. He had built his own palace and spent his time conducting strange experiments.
Hearing this, he seemed like a strange figure, but in person, he was a bit…
…insignificant.
I thought, “This prince or whatever, we can treat him casually, maybe even ignore him a little.” He seemed like a harmless dog that would never bite, no matter what you did to him.
Yet, my curiosity about him wouldn’t disappear, and it was because of the prince’s peculiar actions.
He would always approach us casually, without warning, and start telling stories. His stories always uncannily aligned with Princess Edwina’s interests.
He’d suddenly arrive and throw down a storybook about Sir Arthur Gillen, a knight Edwina admired,
or he’d bring the tea that the princess liked to drink, saying it was his favorite and asking if she’d like to try some,
or he’d bring a couple of bunches of white grapes, her favorite fruit, every day,
or he’d bring out-of-season peaches, plums, or apricots and say, “Aren’t these your favorites? You look like someone who would like these,” before tossing them to her.
Sometimes, he’d bring a black horse, just like the one the princess used to ride, and say that he preferred black horses, only to clumsily fall off while pretending to ride it…
These things were all somewhat helpful to our impoverished living situation, and Princess Edwina must have found it curious how he always managed to bring things she liked.
But to an observer, his actions felt awkward, as if we were watching a tightrope walker with shaky legs. Even when he responded perfectly to the princess’s curt remarks, you couldn’t help but feel that sometimes his words would suddenly veer off into the distance.
One time, Prince Reiner went on at length about magic, which was particularly odd.
“Edwina, do you really want time to pass quickly so you can return to Winterton?”
“Of course, why wouldn’t I?”
“Don’t talk like that, speak freely.”
His lips, delicate like those of any beautiful woman, had a childish, insistent quality to them. Then Princess Edwina would reply as though she were the most indifferent man in the world.
“No.”
“Come on, say ‘no’ properly. If you do, I might even help you return to Winterton.”
“No.”
“Do you really not want to go back to Winterton?”
“You told me to say ‘no,’ didn’t you?”
Princess Edwina, during such moments, seemed utterly unafraid of upsetting the second prince’s feelings. She would growl at him without a hint of fear. And Prince Reiner, as if he were truly frightened of every word from the little princess, would quickly shift the conversation.
“Edwina, have you ever heard of elemental magic?”
“Do you think I’m an idiot?”
“No, you’re not an idiot. Right, you’re very smart. But I’ve told this story so many times that I can’t help but start it this way.”
“I don’t want to hear it if you’re going to ramble.”
“Wait, hear me out, Edwina. In elemental magic, you can move at incredible speeds, right? Did I ever boast to you about how good I am at that?”
“Every elemental mage can do that.”
“Yes, Edwina, but I can do it incredibly fast, you see?”
“And what’s the point? Are you going to use that speed to help us escape to Winterton? Who will deal with the consequences?”
“That’s not it, Edwina. If you move incredibly fast, so fast that you can’t even imagine it, space warps, and time stops. On the other hand, if you move incredibly slowly, so slow that you can’t even imagine it, space twists, and time moves forward.”
“So you’re telling me you can jump ahead three years?”
“I haven’t done it yet, but I felt like I could today, so I came to brag about it to you.”
With that, Prince Reiner babbled away like an excited child, spouting nonsense while receiving plenty of sharp remarks from the princess, before eventually retreating to his room.
It was well known, even in Winterton, that Prince Reiner had been sickly since childhood and had never been in the emperor’s favor. So it wasn’t surprising when, after talking non-stop, he’d suddenly start coughing and return to his quarters.
Because of this, his visits weren’t very long, but since he came daily, we all grew accustomed to his presence. On the rare days when he didn’t show up, I’d find myself feeling a little bored.
Even Princess Edwina would sometimes open and close the door, as if waiting for him, though it wasn’t because she had grown fond of him.
Occasionally, he’d bring fruits like grapes, peaches, plums, or apricots that Princess Edwina liked. By the time we had spent about a hundred days this way, we were all starving, and something had to be done.
“You should bring potatoes or bread instead of this stuff.”
I remember feeling a pang in my heart when Princess Edwina said this offhandedly, but I found myself nodding in agreement before I could feel guilty. Prince Reiner, however, smiled obliviously and replied with that innocent grin of his,
“You’ve always had a small appetite, haven’t you, Edwina? I know what you like.”
And then, with his usual angelic smile, he handed a basket of white grapes and apricots to Princess Edwina. That day, we were particularly hungry, and the princess’s nerves were already on edge. This was before she had fully considered trading places with us.
White grapes and apricots weren’t going to fill our bellies, but we were dying to eat them. Our plan was to share them as soon as the prince left. But that day, for some reason, he seemed particularly energetic and refused to leave until he saw Princess Edwina eat.
“Go ahead, Edwina, eat.”
“No, I’ll eat later.”
“No, I know. Didn’t you sing about wanting white grapes?”
Prince Reiner had a habit of imagining things that never happened as if they had actually occurred. I had mentioned this oddity to Princess Edwina a few times, but she had just brushed it off, saying, “I guess his mind is a little off, too, since his body isn’t healthy.”
I’m not sure why the princess chose to argue with him that day. Maybe she was anxious to get rid of him so she could share the grapes with us.
“I never said I wanted to eat grapes.”
“No, you like grapes. Especially white grapes.”
Prince Reiner, smiling widely, stretched the last words as if singing. In contrast, Princess Edwina’s face remained stern.
“Later.”
“Not later.”
“I said I’ll eat later. Do you have any potatoes or something? Bread will do. Black bread too. Something that fills me up.”
“You don’t usually eat that because it doesn’t taste good, do you?”
“When did I say that?”
“Last time. You said you don’t like bread, black bread, or potatoes. You said you prefer fruits like white grapes, peaches, plums, or apricots.”
“I never said that.”
“Try it. Don’t be like that.”
“I’ll eat it later.”
“When are you going to eat it, Edwina? These are freshly picked fruits. They’re cool and fresh.”
The prince’s tone began to mix with childlike impatience, while Princess Edwina’s demeanor grew colder in response.
Had he just said, “Fine, I’ll go,” Princess Edwina would have welcomed him again tomorrow. But Prince Reiner had a childlike stubbornness that wouldn’t allow him to back down so easily.
“Fine, I’ll leave. But say that thing for me.”
“What thing?”
“You know, when I bring something. You say, ‘Good job, good job.’ Come on, say I did well and pat my head.”
As he said this, he pushed his face forward as if he were a pet waiting for affection. Most people would have cracked a smile, but not our princess. She was only thinking about sending him off and getting the white grapes for us.
“Take it away.”
“Do it, Edwina.”
“Take it away and leave.”
“Don’t be like that. If you talk like that, it hurts my feelings. Just pat my head once, and I’ll go. Say I did well, Edwina.”
It’s natural to feel anxious when you’re asking for affection and the other person coldly rejects you. Even knowing that you should just walk away, the creeping anxiety makes you ask again and again. I found this so pitiful.
Perhaps I felt that way because I am also a weak person, much like Prince Reiner. For someone strong like Princess Edwina, this must have seemed pathetic.
The princess spoke again to Prince Reiner.
“Go. I’ll do it next time if you bring potatoes.”
“I’ll bring potatoes. Do it now, Edwina.”
“Hey! I said go!”
It was then that Princess Edwina lost her patience and shouted. It was understandable from her perspective. To her, Prince Reiner seemed childish, playing games with something we desperately needed.
However, from Prince Reiner’s point of view, he was frustrated that Princess Edwina couldn’t even offer a simple thank you for all the care he had put in. The two stood there, glaring at each other, neither willing to yield. Of course, it was Prince Reiner who spoke first.
“Why are you acting like this? Last time, you liked it! You said grapes were your favorite!”
After saying that, he turned to leave but then felt overwhelmed by a sense of injustice. He came back and poured out his words in a rapid torrent.
“I did everything you liked. I remembered everything you said you liked, and I did it all just like before, just as you smiled! I did the same thing seventeen times! Do you know how hard that is? Do you know how tiring it is? Every time I go back, my brother hits me. Even so, I keep coming back. But you don’t even look at me? You won’t even pat my head? You don’t even know, you don’t know what I…!”
After pouring out his frustration, Prince Reiner, now breathing heavily, sank to the ground. Princess Edwina stood there for a moment, her face showing that she was trying to recall something.
I too was wondering what he was talking about. Some attendants opened the door at the commotion, but the princess sent them away and closed the door.
Finally, she turned to Prince Reiner and asked:
“What did you do?”
———= Postscript ———=
Lady Josephine’s letter will continue in the next part.
Click recommend and go straight to the next chapter.
I apologize once again for failing to manage the length.
At the end of summer,
– With love from Eupolhi to my dear readers –
<– –>
Part 2/2 continuous update
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