Prince 52

#52.

Liam

Are you there?

-Cordelia, no, Florian Elfindel.

* * *

Cordelia.

Yes, I am here.

I have been standing motionless in front of the book case where you entrusted your books, waiting.

Waiting only for your reply.

You didn’t ask, but if I were to answer about my well-being, my neck, which you grabbed by the scruff, is a little stiff and doesn’t turn well, but I’m doing okay overall. Well, it didn’t break, so I’m not going to die, am I?

Now, it’s my turn to ask you a question.

Cordelia, no, Florian Elfindel.

Are you healthy? You’re not hurt, are you?

Is everything in my world alright?

-Arch Albert, living in August, no, your Liam.

P.S.: It’s been a while since I’ve seen your handwriting, and it’s nice to see. Still hard to read, though.

* * *

Liam.

Though saying this now won’t make a difference, if we had exchanged letters even once, I would have known right away that your real name was Arch Albert William.

Because you’re the only one in this world who can be sarcastic and not annoying.

I apologize for coming to Portobello and threatening to break your graceful, deer-like neck.

But isn’t it a bit much to still be complaining about your neck? It was more than two months ago. And, Liam, necks aren’t supposed to turn well in the first place. If they could turn 180 degrees, that would be the strange thing. So stop groaning and tell me what’s going on. What’s up with the Prince Archie I just sent? You’re alive (and not just your neck, but every other part of you as well), right?

Cordelia Flora Gray

P.S.: I just realized while writing, Florian, Florian, yes, it came from Flora. Honestly, it’s exactly the kind of name I’d come up with.

* * *

Cordelia

I find it amusing when you act more foolish than me.

Because it doesn’t happen often.

Of course, I’m alive and well. It’s only been half a day since you twisted my neck.

Now, recall the past, Cordelia.

A small tinkling bell rang, and you burst through the door of the antique shop with the green sign. Holding the book case under your arm, you barged in boldly and said this out of nowhere.

“Send me to Winterton. You can do that, right?”

I couldn’t help but laugh the moment I saw you.

Your oversized clothes and freshly chopped tousled hair were exactly the same as when I first discovered you, the day I accompanied King Alfred to the princess’s cabin.

“Liam? Now’s not the time to be laughing. Hurry and tell me. You can send me to Winterton, right? Right?”

“First, let me ask. Cordelia, where on earth did you get those clothes?”

“Rain from the third floor lent them to me.”

“Why did you borrow it?”

“Juliet said it might be dangerous to go to Winterton as a woman. It’s… well, you know… Does it look strange?”

As you said that, you undid the hastily tied hair. When your long red hair cascaded down, a memory from long ago played in my mind.

It was the night we all gathered at the Lete Abbey to watch Noel’s Twelfth Night play, and Florian’s hair, draped in Princess Edwina’s old clothes, fluttered just like that.

Seven years ago, after crossing from Winterton to here and meeting you and Princess Edwina as children, I finally realized. The woman who first enchanted me with her beauty was the same one I had loved with all my heart that summer.

And from that moment until now, there was only one question that plagued me. Why on earth did you—Florian—show up in disguise as a man?

And to think it was for such an absurdly adorable reason—of course, I couldn’t help but laugh. You looked at me oddly, but my pent-up laughter couldn’t be tamed so easily.

Meanwhile, your expression grew more and more fierce. Eventually, you wore a completely angry face, but even then, you treated me with incredible kindness.

“Liam, I love how you sometimes laugh at me for no reason. But today is not the time to laugh at things like my outfit. I have to meet Archie. Please, send me there quickly.”

Being far more wicked than you realized, I wanted to savor your desperation a little longer, seeing you so anxious, calling out my name. But you didn’t give me that luxury. From somewhere, you pulled out a fake sword strapped to an oddly shaped belt and swung it at me.

“If you don’t send me, I’ll stab you.”

“…With that sword?”

“It might hurt… a little.”

“Are you planning to use that to save Prince Archie?”

“Maybe. It’s better than going empty-handed.”

How could I not love you? In the end, I couldn’t suppress my base urge to ask:

“Do you… really like that man, Arch Albert William, that much?”

The expression you made then twisted my heart. Your lips trembled as if hesitating, then closed firmly again. You looked down, then back at me, and soon, your large eyes welled up with tears. You nodded, wearing an expression as if the tears would fall with just a touch.

“I like him. Very much. I think I love him. Maybe.”

Ah, how I felt then.

Do you know, Cordelia, how I felt as if I had lost and won all at once?

“And I like you too, Liam. You’re just too handsome.”

You wouldn’t say you forgot that you managed to bring out my laughter with those wicked words, would you?

Surely not. I even feel like writing those words on a big piece of paper and sticking it on my front door.

Yes, you made me laugh until the very end.

And I had to prepare to send you away in the midst of that laughter.

When I brought out the bracelet I had, your eyes widened. Of course, you must have thought it belonged to Princess Edwina. But before you could bombard me with questions, I spoke first.

I put the bracelet on your left wrist and told you to hold it with your right hand and visualize the place you wanted to arrive.

I repeatedly urged you not to forget, when you returned, to hold the bracelet and do the same, to think of this world, the world you love so much, the world you’re so familiar with, the world where the people waiting for your return live—think only of the exact moment you wish to come back to.

You must have read Lady Josephine’s letter by then, so you already knew how this worked. You didn’t ask a single question, just looked at me with bright eyes.

“Cordelia, listen carefully. Don’t think about anything unnecessary, not even for a second. Focus only on this moment. You’ll go to Winterton, to the Elfindel Forest, where the princess’s cabin is. When you come back, do the same. Only think of this place. That’s the only way to return.”

“Got it.”

“And when you get there, don’t change anything. Don’t alter anything, just leave things as they are. Understood?”

“No, I don’t understand what you’re saying.”

“Just remember: hold the bracelet, focus on the time you want to go to, and don’t change anything.”

“Liam, for someone as smart as me, my memory is a bit lacking, but I’ll try to remember those two things.”

You answered halfheartedly. I repeated my instructions again. I told you not to think of anything else while holding the bracelet. You nodded one more time, but I think you were already thinking about something else. I could tell by your excited expression, and I knew I couldn’t stop it.

So, in the end, I asked you one last thing.

“Cordelia, are you happy?”

“What? Liam, how could I be happy? I just told you I like another man and hurt you, and that man is currently—”

I stopped your rapid-fire words and asked again.

“No, don’t think about that. Once this is all resolved, if everyone survives, will you be happy then?”

“Why are you asking that? If I say I’m happy, are you not going to send me? Are you planning to make me stay here forever?”

“No, quite the opposite, perhaps.”

“There you go again with your riddles, Liam.”

“Cordelia, your life—every moment that led to you writing letters, meeting me, and coming here, this summer—were those happy times for you? Was this life wonderful enough that you’d want to live it all over again?”

Even amidst that, you smiled so beautifully. I know that smile. It’s the one you make when you’re genuinely happy, like when you’re eating a sugar-soaked pastry. Wearing that satisfied smile, you finally said:

“Yes, I was happy. Those were moments I didn’t want to let go of, not even for a minute.”

With that answer, offering more than I had asked, there was no way I could hold on to you any longer.

All those moments you didn’t want to lose for even a minute—I could only return them to you.

I told you to put down the book case and wear the bracelet. After you received it, you draped your arms around my neck and gave me a tight hug, as if offering one last mercy. Then you said your farewell.

“Liam, I was incredibly happy. Meeting you, receiving the book case, exchanging letters, walking through the streets of Holborn with you, the summer where I looked forward to letters every night. Every moment with you was the happiest time of my life.”

You, dear Cordelia, who made me neither laugh nor cry to the very end, left me like that to go save me.

And for hours now, I’ve been contemplating. Why could I capture your heart through letters, yet not with this handsome face?

Now, Cordelia Gray—

No, Florian Elfindel.

It’s your turn to speak.

Did you arrive safely?

Did you land in the princess’s cabin as I had known?

Was it me and King Alfred who first found you?

Do you regret not listening to me, not focusing solely on the moment, and landing two months too early?

Did you at least reflect and think, “Ah, I should’ve listened to Liam a little more”?

If your reflection was deep enough, did you do everything else as I told you?

Did you leave everything as it was and follow my instructions not to change anything?

And while you were with me, even though I was too foolish to recognize you, were you happy?

If everything went as I expected, you should be standing with Cecil in front of the princess’s cabin by now.

Are you covered in my blood, sobbing after one of those foolish acts of trying to save me?

I should’ve told you not to cry, but my voice wouldn’t come out.

I tried to push you away, telling you to stand back because the blood would stain you, but my arms wouldn’t listen.

Ignoring me, you sobbed and said, “Didn’t I tell you not to come?” as you unfastened the bracelet and placed it on my wrist.

In my dazed state, I couldn’t fully understand what you were doing. The bracelet that had been so large on your arm fit loosely around my wrist.

As I grew faint from the cold sensation, you held onto me, bloodstained, and whispered:

“Prince Archie, just for a day, go back one day. Go back to before all this happened. Please. I told you not to come here. Please, please, think of Cordelia. Think of yesterday, when you exchanged letters with Cordelia. Please, please, please…”

I could barely hear your murmurs. My ears rang, and the world grew quiet. Through the thick trees of the now broken enchantment, a sliver of sunlight streamed in.

Bathed in that light, I thought to myself.

I just wanted to see Cordelia.

And so, I envisioned you.

I thought of how you might fume, sliding letters into the bookcase if I didn’t reply, 

Then worried about the tears you would shed, 

Jealous, fiercely, of the Liam who would comfort you in front of the shop with the green sign, without realizing it was me all along, 

I imagined the books you’d read on the nights without me, 

And the younger you, finding solace in those books while living at boarding school without your mother, 

And before that, the times you spent with Princess Edwina. 

That must have been the moment.

You took my hand.

Gripping my limp right hand, you guided it to hold the bracelet on my left wrist.

That was the end of it.

Everything blurred into darkness.

When I snapped awake, someone was tending to me. I heard murmurs, a commotion all around. My body was in pain, and I found myself in an unfamiliar place. Before I could grasp where I was, my eyes closed again. The next time they opened, a cold compress was on my forehead.

I don’t know how many days I spent in that daze. But when I finally awoke with a clear mind, a woman with red hair was staring at me intently.

She reminded me of Florian in some way. But unlike his reddish-brown hair, hers was a fiery red, making her face appear even paler. Yet despite her thin, wan appearance, there was an air of vitality about her, thanks to her sharp, intense gaze.

She looked at me sharply and asked:

“Who are you? And why do you look so much like Charles Wellesley?”

Even as she asked this, she kindly replaced the cold, now-warm compress on my head.

Despite her gentle actions, I, still not fully recovered, didn’t grasp the situation, as if I were only half-awake. And then the door creaked open, and a young girl peeked in.

Her hair was a softer shade than her mother’s, like molasses, her playful green eyes twinkling, her round face still cherubic, her cheeks youthful.

Though she was a younger version, I recognized her instantly.

She was unmistakably Florian.

It felt as though I had stepped into a dream. But the sharp pain that surged through my body when I tried to sit up quickly reminded me this was reality. As I clutched my shoulder, gasping in pain, the red-haired woman gestured her daughter away.

“Go back outside, Cordelia.”

And that’s when I knew.

Everything had been you.

The girl who had just fallen from the sky to find me,

The one who danced with me in the rain, dressed as a man,

The one who gazed at me with sad eyes during the middle of a play,

Everything had been you.

For a long while afterward, I couldn’t stop thinking about you.

You, murmuring “Please, please, please,” like a chant.

The cold bracelet you fastened onto my wrist.

Your mother, who noticed my shock upon seeing your younger self and immediately began questioning me,

And the dreams of you that I had, over and over, during those moments when I fainted again and again without a chance to explain anything.

Now, seven years later, the memory of that day still lingers vividly in my mind.

Just like the conversation we had half a day ago, when you grabbed my collar and threatened me with that fake sword.

So, Cordelia, please, remember as well.

You must have grabbed the bracelet I fastened on you and landed safely in front of the princess’s cabin.

You likely fainted at the sight of me, and even after waking, struggled mightily to deceive me.

And just like that, the long summer would have passed unnoticed.

After spending all summer in that place, two months back in time, you must have returned and slipped the bracelet back onto my wrist.

Yet, here in this world, not even a single day would have passed.

So, do you understand now, my lovely foolish lady?

Please, answer quickly.

Did you remember what I told you?

Did you follow my words not to change anything?

And so, since you, whom I sent, have returned me to this world, I now stand before the bookcase, rubbing my neck, waiting for you.

Please, send a reply, my dear Coco, my dear Flynn.

Though I’ve just sent you off moments ago, I already miss you dearly.

—Your eternal friend, Arch Albert William.

———= Afterword of the Work ———=

To the readers,

I was in such a rush that I intended to post the afterword all at once later.

But thinking this might be my last chance to write an afterword, I couldn’t do that…

Even though I’ve just completed the work, I already miss my readers.

So, even if it’s not very exciting, please read until the end out of loyalty.

Ah, and sympathy is welcome too.

I love you all.

P.S.: Thank you to those who recommended this work. Please press for the next chapter.

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Continuing 3/6