Answer Me, My Prince

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#50.

Prince Arch,

Are you there?

The moon of the fruit, the morning of the sixth day.

Cordelia.

* * *

Cordelia.

Sure, here it is.

I was sitting in front of my desk and sitting still as you ordered.

Just waiting for you.

So please don't cry, Coco.

It's a beautiful story, isn't it? Isn't it?

If you do it your way, you'll see the moon on August 10th.

Your sincere friend, Arch Albert.

* * *

My friendly friend Arch,

How can you not cry?

Lady Josephine called my name.

I just found out that Princess Edwina is my mother.

I've never seen him before, and I've heard of how they met and loved him.

Oh, how dull am I?

How did he finally get it?

I already had a lot of leads.

Oh, my God, Princess Edwina is my mother herself.

Look, isn't that what Princess Edwin or Princess Edwin would do to cover her ears and scream and scare away passersby?

My mom's old books and antique shops, they had a lot of ridiculously old stuff, all probably from Windsorton. Right?

Is that all?

My mom had a habit of pressing her eyes when she was tired. When I did that, I thought my mom must be angry. Until Lady Josephine explained it to me, I never imagined it would be an act of holding back tears.

Of course. I was just a ten-year-old, tactless little boy. The immature girl who knows nothing about what kind of life she lives, how she met her dad, gave birth to me and raised me, and she just whines.

You know what, Arch. Do you know what makes me the saddest right now?

I can't remember my mother's voice that read me picture books when I was young anymore.

No matter how tired and tired I was at work, she left me on my lap at night and read me picture books. I always brought the same picture book with me, like most kids do, and I begged my mom to read it, read it, read it again and again.

She said with a scary face that she would read it to me just one more time, and that she shouldn't ask for more sleep, but she started talking in a friendly voice as if she had just opened the bookshelf.

Sometimes I would point to each painting and explain it, and sometimes there would be more stories that my mother had made up between the paintings. So even if I read the same book every day, there was no time for me to be bored.

So every time you read me a picture book, did she think of you?

So Princess Edwina, did she think of Prince Liner?

"Princess and Knight, that book must have been written by my mother, right? Did my mother, Princess Anne Edwina, threaten to give Tilbert an illustration?

Oh, my God, Prince Rainer was right. My mom is mean. He's a very bad guy. You've told me that story hundreds of times, and you've never sat me down and said, "Come on, Coco. This is my mom and dad's story." You didn't tell me, did you?

How could you do that? How can you swallow all the stories by yourself and pretend you don't know anything?

I'm angry. I'm so angry that I want to go around and meet my mom like Prince Liner. I want to meet my mom and argue like crazy why she didn't tell me anything.

But you can't. As soon as my thoughts flow like that, my anger turns into sadness.

Why did Lady Josephine decide to let me know all this? Now and then, I just miss my mom even more.

People say that when you are sad, your heart breaks.

Prince, I just found out that it may feel like it's not a stereotypical metaphor. I'm losing my mind.

Your friend, Cordelia.

* * *

Dear Miss Cordelia Gray.

Princess Edwina must have been very happy and told you the story.

Young you make me read the same book hundreds of times.It would have been so lovely that I wouldn't hate it.

It's sad that you don't remember the voice.

But listen, my Coco.

I've never met Edwin or Princess, but I can imagine.

Your mother would have read each letter slowly with a quiet affection.

Even if there's a scary scene, he's low-pitched.

As Flynn did to Noel, he points to paintings and kindly explains them.

For you, who resemble your father and have tears in your eyes, when you turn all the world's miserable stories into happy ending, you might have hesitated for a moment, taking a pause and saying, "Um..."

Come on, think about it. Doesn't your broken, broken, broken heart swells up again when you think of your mother who would have done such a good job grumbling about it?

Yes, Coco. The princess must have thought of you as Prince Liner. But it wouldn't have been about loneliness or longing.

You are so lovely, the fruit of their lives, which they have endured painfully, so it must have been a joy and happiness.

So please, stop crying.

You know we have some hope, my Sherlock lady.

Now that you know that Anne Celine is Princess Anne Edwina and your mother, you know best what you have to do first, right?

Go find Liam and ask him.

Who the hell is Anne Celine, and who wrote the sequel to the princess and the article?

Your Watson, Archie Albert, who moves smartly on behalf of you sad.

* * *

Archie Watson, Albert.

How do you know I'm crying so well?

Cordelia.

* * *

Cordelia 'Ulbo' Gray.

What do you think I don't know about you?

Now that I know you inside out, Arch Albert.

P.S. I respectfully ask if you're curious about the tears. I told you, Cordelia.

Your handwriting is hard to decipher even in normal times. You didn't wipe the letter paper with tears, did you?

* * *

Prince Archie, hateful.

Okay, I'll stop crying for your eyesight.

That's what my mom said.

There is nothing more important in the world than humor and friendly words.

It's funny. My mom is a short-spoken, blunt person, so she's far from being kind, but it's still funny.

It wasn't funny at all when you were preaching to me.

"Cordelia, when you buy things and pay for them, make sure to say thank you to the store lady, say hello to the driver when you get on the bus, smile when you make eye contact with people while passing by, and that kind of kindness saves us." If you don't like it, at least make it funny. Then they'll laugh first.’

I look more like my dad than my mom, but I'm a little more good at being friendly than funny.

Archie, I've had a long way to go to beat you. Thank you, Arch, for soothing me crying and puffing over nothing.

P.S. I was going to say that. Liam confessed. The princess and the writer of the sequel were not Anne Celine, but herself, and she doesn't think she can write well anymore. Yes, there was nothing to do but dig up the identity of Anne Celine. I'm just wondering who Liam is, Archie, is there a servant or wizard around you named Liam?

* * *

My friendly friend, Coco.

Well, I didn't know what happened.

Watson's plan to identify Anne Celine has come to naught.

I didn't say it properly because I thought it would be a distraction, but I actually wondered if your mother was still alive. Princess Edwina, thanks to the magic of the three-stringed bracelet and the liner prince, went to your world and said, "The Princess and the Knight's Writer, Anne Celine. And the year you turned 12, you had to come here again for some reason. And... he's still alive somewhere, using a guy named Liam to deliver his manuscript.

Yes, that was my wild reasoning. I didn't think about it. But Cordelia, think about it. Don't we know Princess Edwina well? It's your mother's job, so you know better than I do?

Is he the one who will leave his little daughter alone to hide his death?

No, it's not. What kind of mother in the world could have a lovely daughter like you? I wouldn't give up even an hour before I died.

Why don't you ask Liam again? Yeah, that boring manuscript was written by Liam. Find out how the name 'Anne Selene' came to be, and what the identity of the person is. I'm sure there's some truth hidden in it that we don't know.

Your Watson, Arch Albert.

P.S. Liam, well, the original name is William, but it's not very common in Winderton right now. It's funny to say this, but the names chosen by the royal family are not allowed to be used by other people. Yes, because of my great birth, all Arch, Albert and William had to change their names. Maybe he ran away because he didn't want to change his name.

P.S. 2: But didn't you do that to Liam? It's a piece of course.

* * *

Prince Archie, you can call him Holmes, not Watson anymore.

Your reasoning that my mother might be alive made me sad. Even more so from the fact that I hesitated to say it, if it would distract me. That's right. That false hope will only cause more pain.

Archie, you're quite a bright person.

When I knew all her letters were from you, how hard it must have been for me to sum up all that when my neighbor's wife told me she had been sick for a long time, to conclude that she left me just before she died.

So, I don't want to dream of more than that.

I don't want to be disappointed when I ask Liam for no matter what.

Besides, I heard there was Princess Edwina's grave next to the cabin.

She... she probably died just before she died.

I'll just think so.

If she lives somewhere in your world...

…no, I don't think so. So don't encourage me anymore, my considerate friend.

Cowardly Cordelia Gray-Olim.

P.S. I didn't even say trash. I just said, "It's so boring. How can it be so boring?" Yes, I regret it. You must have been hurt, right? How should I relax Liam?

Cordelia in her mind, suddenly in a state of limbo.

* * *

To Cordelia who is worried about everything.

If it's not fun, you have to say it's not fun.

What's wrong with you?

It's the writer's fault that the writing is not funny.

I know. I didn't really like that guy from the beginning.

Are you going to keep seeing him?

Your "sincere" advisor, Arch Albert.

P.S. It's getting morning here. It's me, writing all night, and then falling in the middle of the day, but are you okay, Cordelia?

* * *

Archie Albert, my bad-memory adviser.

Wasn't it Mark that you didn't like?

Liam said it's your style to approach her more carefully.

Don't you remember, Archie Albert? What did you say when you whispered love more?

A friend who listens to you, Cordelia.

P.S. It's morning here, too. In five minutes, I'll call him and tell him I have to take a break.

* * *

Maybe now my friend Cordelia who's sleeping in the morning.

Seeing you tease me like this, your tears must have gone right away.

Yes, that's right. I think so, too. It's a bit heartbreaking to remember that I gave you a sincere plea, 'Love whispering a little more.'

Anyway, you don't seem willing to cut off Liam. Well, that's your business. I don't have a three-string bracelet that Prince Liner gave to Edwin or Princess, so it's never going to happen to me to see you. I'll just sit here 'somehow or other' meddling.

But Cordelia, do you know that?

I'm not a small talker (because of all Vader). I should have listened to the old adherents who said, "You should have chosen your friends!" He is also not a virtue of the insidiousness that hides your inner feelings.

But no one in my life made me talk as much as you did.

I've told you everything I've got.

But these days, I feel frustrated that I can only talk to you with letters from far away. It's late to hear that Liam lied like that.

What are you talking about?

So once again, to get everything out of your mind and be honest with you, I want you to reveal your daily life in more detail. Not a second left. Not a second left.

If you don't respond to my obsession even though I'm speaking so hard, you're a daughter who looks more like Edwin or Princess Edwina than a father who has piled up letters in his bookcase.

Forever your best friend, Arch Albert.

* * *

My affectionate obsession, Arch Albert.

If I tell you how much I love the moments when you're not yourself, you'll have to spend the whole evening.

Anyway, as you requested, I will talk about today's daily life every second.

There's nothing to talk about.

Well, that's right. The life of an office worker who took a day off on a weekday for staying up all night is so boring. Thanks to that, I took a nap with swollen eyes and ice packs.

I woke up and had a cold cup of tea and went to work tomorrow to pretend to be sick.

Then I read Lady Josephine's letter again, and I cried one more time without the satisfaction of your comfort.

After crying, I was hungry, so I went to the old neighborhood and ate bread. In the village where I used to stay with my mom, there is a restaurant that sells delicious bread that is huge and easily torn.

There, I bought bread, cinnamon rolls, and scones as much as I could, sat in a cold room, and this time I had a late first meal with a hot tea.

After my heart sank with sugar and flour, I started to wonder about things.

Archie, do you remember the last time I told you about my dad that I heard from my mom?

My dad wrote a lot of letters when he didn't know my mom, and he left it somewhere and waited a long time to find it.

Somewhere, maybe it's the bookcase that Princess Edwina left at the Leete Abbey? So Arthur Gillan left for the forest behind the North Castle and wrote a long letter long enough to hold it in this little bookcase hoping that Princess Edwin would read it one day?

My mother, who only saw it late, would have shed tears just as Beder wrote in her letter,

Like I heard from my mom, you went to see him, hugged him and kissed him, right?

What kind of stories did my dad put in there?

What did you write about that made you love her?

And the bracelet? If my mother is Princess Edwina, who came here wearing that bracelet, where did it go?

I searched for the relics left by my mom, but there was no rubber band, not a bracelet. Prince Archie, if you really insist on being my obsession, can you do me a little favor?

Can you deliver my message to Lady Josephine?

Edwina's daughter, Cordelia Flora Gray, asked for it,

Please show me the letters you shared with my mom using the bookcase.

8.10. Dinner.

Leaning on your kindness today, Cordelia.

a review of one's

Dear readers.

I brought a little flirting with the place where the stormy love passed by.

I'm glad you liked Rainer and Princess Edwina, but you all wanted to see Archie and Coco, right?

I really, really missed you," said Josephine, a talkative. I won't let you...

I was going to bring more later, but it hurt my heart that everyone was crying in the comments. I brought it in a hurry.

So please don't cry. The comments are... smudging.