#42
Was it because he did not intend to return that he left so much food behind? Prince Reiner’s visits became increasingly rare. It took at least another month before the sound of his laughter was heard again in the palace.
As always, the prince limped in, swaying from side to side.
“Edwina, I brought something fun. Come here, won’t you?”
Saying so, Prince Reiner handed over two book storage boxes. At the time, we wondered why he didn’t bring food, as we had asked, but instead brought some odd wooden boxes. Princess Edwina received one with a lukewarm expression.
“What’s this?”
“Well, when you see it, you’ll be surprised. I might even be able to send you to Winterton with this.”
“…You haven’t been here for days because of this?”
The princess’s face hardened.
Though Prince Reiner was as childlike as ever, unable to gauge our feelings, we couldn’t help but feel anxious when he didn’t visit for such a long time. First, we worried about his safety, but we were also concerned about our meals, which was a rather shallow worry.
Knowing our concerns, it was understandable that Princess Edwina might be upset with the prince for coming and going as he pleased. Looking back, she probably worried he had fallen ill, only to find him showing up laughing, which likely irritated her.
“Why are you so selfish?”
When the princess said that, I shrank before Prince Reiner did. I thought our prince would again shrink back, tears welling in his eyes like a rain-soaked dog.
But to my surprise, he, now with the face of a grown man, responded,
“That’s right, Edwina. You must have missed me terribly.”
For a brief moment, I saw a hint of shyness on the princess’s face. But it disappeared quickly, replaced by her usual indifferent mask.
“Be quiet and explain what this ‘something amazing’ you’ve brought is.”
Prince Reiner eagerly started explaining.
“Well, you see, time and space are…”
“You’ve been reincarnated too many times. I think I’ve heard that explanation at least 17 times.”
“That can’t be right…”
“Just get to the point.”
“Well, Edwina, why don’t you try putting something inside?”
“What should I put in?”
“I don’t know. Potatoes, maybe ten of them.”
The princess frowned again.
“Didn’t I tell you not to play around with my food?”
“Alright, alright. Then, here you go.”
With that, Prince Reiner handed her a piece of paper.
“Just write anything on this and put it in the book storage box.”
The prince stepped back a few steps, sat down at the table, and placed the box he was holding on top of it. The princess, setting down the other box she had received, scribbled something nonsensical on the paper and put it inside the box.
Then, on the other side, the prince opened his own book storage box and pulled out the paper that the princess had just placed inside hers.
“What’s this supposed to mean?”
“I wrote that I’m annoyed.”
“Next time, write it in Reutlingen.”
“I’m from Winterton, remember?”
“That’s why I’ve been learning Winterton for you. But I can’t read it, so please write it in Reutlingen, okay?”
Even while they exchanged such remarks, none of us had fully grasped how remarkable the event that had just taken place was. It wasn’t until after Prince Reiner had pestered Princess Edwina for a while and left that we realized: an object had transferred from one book storage box to another. We were speechless.
In other words, Prince Reiner had brought something truly extraordinary.
Regardless, the next day began just as mundanely as any other.
Prince Reiner came back to the palace the very next day, this time bringing Tilbert, his tutor in letters.
“I’ve come to teach the princess Reutlingen.”
Tilbert said as he began writing in Reutlingen with an impeccable hand. Our princess, however, just stared at him blankly and said,
“I already know how to write it. In fact, I think I might write it better.”
When she started writing herself, Prince Reiner was so astonished, his peach-colored lips parted in shock as he exclaimed in disbelief.
“Edwina, did you know how to write in Reutlingen?”
“Who wouldn’t?”
“Wow, you’re a genius! How can you write so beautifully too? You should become a writer someday, huh?”
Even as she grumbled that good handwriting didn’t make a good writer, Princess Edwina’s cheeks flushed with the same beautiful color as Prince Reiner’s lips. That day, it was Prince Reiner’s victory. He had managed to get a promise from our princess to write long letters in Reutlingen.
And so began the golden era of the book storage boxes.
Although, in truth, our princess never did put any long letters inside them.
[Grapes]
[100 Potatoes]
[9 Loaves of Bread]
[Chicken, if available]
Those were the only kinds of notes she put in daily, yet Prince Reiner always carried them in both hands, careful not to wrinkle them, and ran over to deliver them.
“Edwina, so you wanted grapes, huh?”
…he would say. Unfortunately, the book storage boxes weren’t the best method for bartering. One time, the prince fell ill and couldn’t bring the grapes in person, so he put them into the box. When they arrived on our side, the grapes had turned black and rotten.
Princess Edwina grumbled about how he always caused trouble, but I had a different thought. Perhaps inside that book storage box were all the long years of longing and thoughts Prince Reiner had for Princess Edwina, folded neatly away.
Despite his deep affection for our princess, the prince never wrote her a letter. Princess Edwina, being sharp, had figured it out from the time the prince said he wasn’t very good at reading. She never mentioned it, but naive as I was, I once said,
“Prince Reiner, our princess can read Reutlingen. If you write her a letter in Reutlingen, she will read it.”
Princess Edwina, standing next to me, poked me in the side, but it was too late to take back what I had said.
Prince Reiner responded, in a voice quieter than I’d ever heard,
“Hmm, dear, I can’t write. Hmm, I can’t write well, and I can’t read either.”
Not knowing how to respond, I stammered awkwardly. Breaking the uncomfortable silence, Princess Edwina, in an exaggerated and theatrical tone, teased the prince.
“You once brought me *The Story of Sir Arthur Gillen* and said you enjoyed reading it. Was that a lie?”
“Yes, I lied. Edwina.”
Perhaps finding the conversation preferable to silence, Prince Reiner smiled again. Princess Edwina, still in that dramatic tone, asked,
“Then why did you pretend you had read it?”
“Well, hmm, I looked at the pictures. And our teacher Tilbert explained it to me.”
“You’re so clever, so why can’t you read?”
Again, the prince’s angelic smile lit up the palace. Whenever Prince Reiner came, Princess Edwina always let out a deep sigh, then one day she brought out the book *The Story of Sir Arthur Gillen*, which she had kept.
“Listen.”
And so, our princess’s clear voice began to echo through the humble garden of the palace. The prince closed his beautiful eyes, as if stars had been placed in them, and quietly listened to her reading *The Story of Sir Arthur Gillen*. Gradually, the prince’s body sank onto the armrest of the chair, and he eventually rested his head on the princess’s lap.
When that happened, I expected the princess to tell him to move, but she simply continued reading without a word.
Though we all watched the scene unfold, it didn’t seem inappropriate for the frail prince to rest his head there. It felt as natural as a pet dog falling asleep on its owner’s lap.
It was late summer, just like it is now.
The gentle breeze made the prince’s delicate eyelashes tremble slightly. Princess Edwina paused her reading for a moment and gently stroked the prince’s cheek. I still remember watching that beautiful moment in awe.
It must have taken more than an hour to finish reading just one chapter. As the princess’s voice quieted, the prince opened his eyes, gazed up at her, and softly said,
“Edwina.”
“What?”
“You read stories so well. Maybe you should write one someday.”
“Good handwriting makes a writer, and good reading makes a storyteller?”
“Isn’t it better than someone who can’t do either?”
The prince’s voice, perhaps because of the summer breeze, felt quieter than before.
“Edwina, someday, will you write a story like *The Story of Sir Arthur Gillen*?”
“Have you ever seen a princess do such a thing?”
“You wouldn’t just be a princess, you could do both. And if you do, write a story about me too.”
“What kind of story?”
“A story about a brave, handsome knight who sacrifices everything for his princess.”
“That’s a lie.”
The way our princess objected, her voice sounded so prim and proper.
“Am I ugly?”
And the way Prince Reiner chuckled deeply, his voice was unbelievably sweet.
“You’re not handsome, you’re pretty.”
Our princess, too—without even flinching—looked him straight in the eyes and said those words. Despite my thoughts, the two continued their quiet conversation.
“Then just tell a lie for me. You’ve been awfully quiet…”
“Reiner, you talk way too much.”
“Yeah, yeah, I know, I know. But please, write me as someone silent, brave, and cool like your favorite knight, Sir Arthur.”
With that, Reiner closed his eyes like a weary man and fell into a deep sleep. Despite the possible pain in her small knees, our princess sat still until he woke up.
As the sunlight in the garden dimmed, darkness quickly fell. Even in the dimness, the moonlight seemed to follow the two, making Prince Reiner’s pale golden hair shimmer.
And in that moment, I saw it—the affectionate gaze of Princess Edwina.
“Reiner, you are brave. You’re brave enough, so stop doing reckless things.”
I also heard Princess Edwina speak these words while gently brushing Prince Reiner’s fine hair.
By now, they might both exclaim in surprise, saying that our princess had already fallen for the prince at that moment. But even though I witnessed it all, I believed that her feelings were just sympathy, nothing more.
Back then, our princess’s mind was filled with people from our kingdom of Winterton. She had no energy to fall for the prince of an enemy nation, no matter how beautiful he was. That’s why, in retrospect, the fleeting charm of that moment seemed all the more heart-wrenching, making me tear up for no reason that night.
———= Author’s Notes ———=
To all the readers basking in the cool breeze of the last day of Harvest Month:
The endless story of Lady Josephine’s letters has a bit more to go.
Please bear with me just a little longer, and Coco and Archie will return soon.
P.S. 1. I hope your Harvest Month ends happily, and as we move on to Grape Month, I thank you all for your follows, recommendations, and kind comments. I am open to corrections and suggestions for revisions, and I’ll take them to heart and fix things slowly.
P.S. 2. “The Read-Ignore Prince” is a contracted work, and after its conclusion, an e-book with a side story will be released. Since I’ve written an epistolary novel, I also dream of having a physical book, so I’m planning a collector’s edition. The much cheaper e-book with the exact same content will come out first, but for those who still love physical books, I would appreciate it if you could participate in the demand survey for the collector’s edition.
The link is here: https://takemm.com/demand/view/602
You can log in through the link by signing up or connecting with Naver, etc.
(I’ve corrected the address.ㅠㅠ)
I’ve also posted it in the first comment to make it easier for you to copy and paste.
I’ll see you again in Grape Month with more updates.
<– One-Week Hiatus Notice –>
To the readers waiting for Josephine’s letters,
I sincerely apologize for showing up empty-handed instead of with another letter. I wanted to pull a “Dear readersss,” like Reiner, but upon writing it down, it felt more like Hodong, so I’ll refrain and greet you more respectfully.
Are you enjoying this rainy night of Grape Month?
I’m happily welcoming the start of a new season, but with autumn comes the burdens of real life, turning my current existence into a less pleasant one. I’ve had so little time to revise Coco and Archie’s letters that I’ve come here empty-handed today.
To get to the point: “The Read-Ignore Prince,” a story that has been lingering for a while with the words “almost finished,” is now truly just a few episodes away from its end. Judging by the remaining letters, it seems I’ll finish within 3 to 5 days if I write diligently.
However, I don’t want my fatigue to seep into Coco and Archie’s fresh, youthful letters, so I’m taking a short break before resuming revisions. The upcoming stories are really, really fun!… Well, I can’t guarantee that, but they were so much fun to write, and I hope that joy has reached you, too.
For those wondering why I didn’t simply post a short hiatus notice: I have the blessing of Beder, which means I’ve been like this since birth, and all I can do is apologize. At this point, readers may be lamenting, “How long will her post-completion notes be?” Please, anticipate and sigh accordingly.
I hope that Beder possesses your fingers as you write comments on my work and other masterpieces on Joara.
Please continue to love me the most. No, just don’t forget me…
— From a tired mortal on a rainy Grape Month night.
P.S. There’s a beautiful illustration (fan art from readers) posted in the work’s notice section! You’ll be pleasantly surprised when you see it!
<– Princess and the Knight –>
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