Letter?

[Once upon a time, in a kingdom long, long ago, there lived the most beautiful princess in all the world.

The beautiful princess received countless proposals from princes across the globe.

And yet, the princess paid no mind to any gift, nor to any handsome suitor.

In a neighboring kingdom, there lived a handsome prince.

The handsome prince, too, offered every manner of jewel and gold bar in a plea for her love, but the princess merely turned her head away with cold indifference.

In that instant, the prince saw it.

The moment she turned her head, the princess had let fall a single eyelash.

The prince spent three days and three nights without sleep, searching desperately for the eyelash the princess had lost, but he could not find it.

Several days later, another magnificent procession entered the grounds before the princess’s palace.

White elephants and exotic birds, delicious confections and sweet wine, and sixty-six chests brimming with gold arrived as gifts.

The displeased princess said:

“Is this how people in your country buy a woman’s heart?”

The prince replied:

“No — this is the price of a single eyelash you lost the day you granted me an audience.”]

The fairy tale ends with the princess mulling over the prince’s answer, then breaking into a sly grin.

How did I not realize how beautiful this story was when I was young? Gus thought.

It’s as if my very feelings have been laid bare upon the page.

He wanted to read it to Aspara, too. That desire welled up and overflowed, and on one dawn when the floodgates of that feeling finally burst, Gus sat down and wrote a letter.

…Anyone who saw this would bite their tongue and die of embarrassment.

He wanted to show the letter to his wife.

But beyond her, he could not imagine showing it to a single living soul. Least of all to that damned southern knight.

From that day forward, Gus began cutting the letter into fragments and having each piece translated into the southern tongue, little by little. It was an operation carried out through the hands of trusted retainers, unfolded over the course of several weeks.

During those weeks, rumors began circulating that the castle lord’s temper had grown noticeably worse, but Gus himself never noticed.

Fortunately, the true nature of the text had gone undetected by anyone, and it was only this very dawn that the assembled letter had finally been delivered.

I wonder if she liked the gift.

The castle lord paced his study, thinking of the ornament he had sent. It was a rather expensive piece, purchased through the late pig-of-a-baron’s wife.

“Oh wow, it’s the ‘Princess’s Eyelash’ story. It’s been ages.”

Just then, the voice of the maid dusting the study, Star, broke through Gus’s reverie.

“Quit messing around and finish your cleaning first. His Lordship is right here!”

“Oh, sorry. It just reminded me of something I read as a child.”

The two attendants who had come to empty the study’s wastebasket were chattering in low voices.

“…Do you like that story?”

Instead of a reprimand, it was a cautious question. Star answered in a bright, girlish voice:

“It’s a cute fairy tale! I love anything with princesses and princes.”

“Mm.”

“If it happened in real life, though, it’d be a bit off-putting! Ha ha.”

Gus, who had been nodding along, went still.

“…I would have thought it was the sort of story women enjoy.”

“You think? I always figured it was more of a male fantasy, actually. Isn’t it a bit off-putting? Trying to impress someone with treasure, and then weirdly fixating on an eyelash.”

“Mm…”

“If it actually happened to me, I’d be thinking, ‘Does this guy have an eyelash fetish?’”

“…”

Star’s senior attendant scolded her for running her mouth in front of His Lordship and told her to focus on her work. Gus, who had been standing motionless for a beat, abruptly shot to his feet and strode out of the study.

“Where are you going?”

“Star, I told you to focus on your work! Forgive us, Your Lordship.”

His footsteps receded into the distance; then, a few seconds later, grew louder again. Gus had returned to the study doorway. He spoke to Star:

“The prince… does not have an eyelash fetish.”

Having delivered this pronouncement, the castle lord marched back out of the study in great lumbering strides.

[6.]

Jack was rummaging through the castle garden in search of flowers.

The northern garden was almost entirely devoid of flowers or trees; stone ornaments, low walls, and gravel made up the bulk of it.

Then again, one only had to look at what had become of the baron’s villa with all its wooden decorations and lush greenery to understand why.

Plants in this land spent seven-tenths of the year bone-dry, so packing them in densely was a recipe for fire.

“My lady.”

“Mm.”

“My lady, do you like Gus, the castle lord?”

Aspara turned to look at her knight. He had the fidgety, eye-darting look of a puppy gauging its master’s mood.

“Well, now.”

Aspara thought it over for a moment, then answered placidly.

“I’ve never cared enough about him to say I like or dislike him.”

“I see.”

“We haven’t even shared a bed yet.”

“I didn’t ask about that!”

Jack’s face went red and he swatted his mistress’s shoulder — thwap, thwap.

“That’s the most important part, though. We’re still sleeping in separate rooms to this very day, so the implications are rather obvious, wouldn’t you say? I still haven’t ruled out the theory that he has a sweetheart somewhere. At least it doesn’t seem to be anyone in this castle.”

Jack let out a strained “Mmm— mmm—” and squirmed. Aspara watched him and was reminded of the stray puppy behind the outhouse that she used to feed as a child.

“What’s gotten into you today? You’re being terribly doglike.”

“No, it’s just—”

After a few more seconds of squirming, the knight opened his mouth.

“Honestly, I… mm… you really need to see that man putting on his act right in front of you, my lady! But still, even so… I do think that guy genuinely likes you.”

“An act, please — if you mean the castle lord walking around with those keen eyes of his, I’ve noticed that perfectly well myself.”

“That’s not even the half of it! That’s him with the act! You haven’t seen what his eyes really look like when he’s not holding back, my lady. Anyway — that’s how it is. I don’t like the man, but I don’t think he dislikes you. It’s more… he can’t bear that a girl raised so preciously was married off to a pauper castle like this.”

“Did you give birth to me or something?”

At Aspara’s curt reply, Jack grumbled harder.

“…Well, regardless, I do agree we need to get on his good side. Actually, the thing is… just yesterday, or was it the day before — I got a letter from back home. From House Chili.”

“I wasn’t talking about getting on his good side — I was talking about the letter — a letter from home? Are they calling you back?”

“Don’t you remember House Chili? You know, back when we lived in the south — my ex-husband’s lover’s family. Well, I suppose she’d be his wife by now.”

Aspara said it with a casual smile as she plucked a small wildflower she had found in the shade.

Jack stared at her blankly, then flinched with surprise, then screwed his face into anger.

“Oh, that…! That…! …The one with the long name…! The one whose name is seven characters…!”

“That’s right. The seven-character woman sent me a letter. From what I hear…”

Just then, Aspara, who had been toying with the wildflower, glanced behind her.

What was that? Jack turned to look as well.

Gus, the castle lord.

They had locked eyes with the very subject of their earlier conversation.

“Oh my, Your Lordship.”

He had been passing through the open corridor that bordered the garden. He did not appear out of breath, but his hair was disheveled, enough to guess that he had been running just moments before.

“— What— —?”

“Ah! He’s asking what we’re doing.”

“I can understand that much myself by now. Good timing, actually — I found a flower, small as it is.”

Aspara, who had been rather worn out from humoring Jack, held out the little wildflower to the castle lord.

“—… ——. Thank you, —.”

The castle lord maintained his usual rigid expression, lips that did not so much as twitch. But his eyebrows had risen high, and he looked quite visibly pleased.

Aspara, relieved to have that nuisance settled, gave him a bright smile.

“And this as well. It’s my reply.”

“My lady, that’s—!”

Jack flinched, trying to stop the delivery of the pitifully halfhearted three-line letter, but it was already in the castle lord’s hands.

“Uh… that one’s not finished yet, Your Lordship. Um… [Translation, needed. That.] If you could give it ba—”

Gus pulled the letter toward himself and shook his head firmly.

“—, — — - —.”

The exact meaning was unclear, but his fearsome expression alone made one thing perfectly understood: he was not giving it back.

“Ah, yes. Suit yourself, then.”

The castle lord made a stiff, creaking gesture of gratitude toward his wife, then disappeared the way he had come, in steps so rigid they practically clattered.

The two southerners watched as Gus shrank into the distance down the corridor, letter and wildflower clutched in hand.

“What do you suppose he came here for in the first place?”

“Beats me.”

[7.]

[Hello,

It is cold and dry.

Received with thanks.

— Aspara Bel.]

Gus read the short, indecipherable letter over and over again.

“As if I’d show my wife’s love letter to that damned knight.”

That day, the fear that had seized Gus the moment he heard Star’s words had melted clean away the instant he saw his wife’s radiant smile.

A small wildflower, received in exchange for an expensive jewel. The flower was pressed firmly between the pages of the castle lord’s book, and the reply letter was stored deep in his safe, to be kept there until some future day when he had learned the southern tongue.

The fact that Jack had not only already seen Aspara’s letter but had also read Gus’s own love letter dozens upon dozens of times: this was something Gus would not learn until a very, very distant day in the future.