SIWALL Ch 24

That morning, Elliot succeeded in writing the letter to be sent to Arzen.

{To the magnanimous Grand Duke Arzen Teron,

I am writing this letter to apologize to you for my sudden visit and departure the other day, which you understood with your broad-mindedness. Since I am quite shy, I was a bit prickly when we actually met. My family tells me to fix that, but sometimes it feels like changing one’s inherent nature is an absolute impossibility. It’s like the family name or allergies one is born with.

Not that I’m trying to make excuses. I am sorry for my rudeness back then. Would it be shameless of me to hope for forgiveness? Still, I’d like to rely on Your Grace’s mercy just this once.

If you aren’t in the mood to grant your mercy, I will continue sending letters to apologize. If you don’t want to endlessly receive my letters, you’ll have to forgive me quickly, you know? Just kidding. But I really will be waiting for Your Grace’s forgiveness.

From Loran, piece of Pedet}

The content of the letter, which followed Loran’s tone as closely as possible, simply laid the groundwork with the business of apologizing and the hint that he would continue sending letters in the future.

In the original work, El Black captured the Grand Duke’s heart with brilliant literary expressions, but Elliot lacked both the ability and the desire to write anything remarkably well in that manner.

Keep the politeness at a level where he wouldn’t get killed, but write ‘Loran-style’. And focus on the main business.

These two were the principles Elliot had set for ‘ghostwriting love letters to Arzen Teron’.

He had no intention whatsoever of writing love letters that could foster genuine romantic feelings. In fact, the entire plot of the original work would fall apart if Arzen didn’t fall in love with Loran.

‘I didn’t even need to avoid the characters in the first place!’

Lim Seongsik had often been labeled a pushover by the people around him since the past. There were mixed worries and nagging remarks such as you shouldn’t live like that, sharing your side dishes with others when you barely had enough to look after your own plate, and whether the world looked easy to him.

However, then and now, a pushover had his own calculations. Generwin’s love letters and Loran’s love letters—he agreed to write them because they were doable. Elliot argued thus toward empty space.

‘It’s not like I want to die, you know.’

Elliot read back through the letter he had written from start to finish.

The Arzen that Elliot had experienced up until now—to be precise, until dawn today—was a nightmare of a man with terribly bad manners and advanced paranoia. He was accustomed to harming or killing people, and rather than becoming desensitized to it, he was a man who understood well how terrifying it was and knew how to use it. He was excessively sensitive and had a high guard.

However, unexpectedly, he also had a soft spot. Wearing matching pajama sets and putting on a travel pillow just as the butler told him to, falling fast asleep the moment his guard dropped, being considerate of Elliot who got cold, or eating apples like a boy….

Elliot felt like he could understand, just a little, why Loran came to love Arzen in the work—just a very little bit.

Huh, but wait… Was there a passage about Loran coming to love Arzen?

Elliot tilted his head for a moment, but his attention was soon distracted. That was because Camembert started sharpening his claws on Elliot’s leg.

“Ow! Camembert! Wait a second! Ouch!”

Elliot scrambled up onto the chair in a hurry and squatted down. There were no superfluous movements as his hands busily organized the desk top. Folding the paper neatly and slipping it inside the envelope, his movements were worthy of a master of simple labor.

Gathering up even Generwin’s love letters that he had hidden in the drawer all at once, Elliot bolted swiftly toward the doorway.

“Camembert! Big brother will be right back!”

Frightened by Camembert’s eyes, which glowed ominously like he had spotted a fast-moving prey, Elliot quickly closed the door and dashed down the corridor.

Now then, he had to entrust his first love letters to the cafe.

Elliot’s first letters were reviewed by the parties involved at the cafe, sealed with each family’s signet, and dispatched by the cafe owner’s hands.

Generwin sent a message saying, “See, you’re good at this, author.” Loran complained, “It’s not aristocratic enough, and it’s not romantic either,” but at Elliot’s words that he would be suspected if he claimed to have fallen in love right from the start, Loran reluctantly nodded. Then he left a cool parting remark telling him to handle things on his own from now on since it was a hassle.

“Is this what an office part-time job is like…?”

Having started working from a young age, he had felt intimidated by his highest educational background of middle school graduation and had only applied for part-time jobs in physical labor. Naturally, while working part-time, he had also heard plenty of insults regarding his educational background from bosses and colleagues.

In the meantime, ambivalent feelings had grown as well. He would yearn for and envy peers working part-time who attended university or office workers, while simultaneously sticking out his lip and muttering that it was people like himself who were doing the ‘real labor’.

However, Elliot, who had spent a while buried in paper and ink while clutching his head, had to thoroughly reflect upon his past.

Things you do sitting at a desk aren’t necessarily easy, either.

Elliot sipped his coffee. He was currently sitting in the VIP room of Cafe Siren. While drinking coffee for a moment, he was waiting for the owner, who said he would bring back a bundle of replies sent by Generwin’s lovers.

Arzen hadn’t sent a reply, they said. In fact, since he hadn’t even expected one—if a reply had come, it would have been even scarier—he felt no emotional disturbance at all… is what he wanted to say, but in truth, Elliot had felt like he was walking on thin ice for the past few days.

During the past few days since sending the letter, Elliot had no choice but to watch Arzen’s mood quite a bit. The moment Arzen received Loran’s letter, he had tossed it straight to Elliot! Since he was an ardent devotee ready to lick even the soles of Loran Pedet’s shoes, the instruction was for him to keep the letter containing Loran’s handwriting.

‘Did you read it?’

At Elliot’s question, Arzen had answered briefly.

‘It lacked aristocratic flair.’

Just what on earth is aristocratic flair, you aristocrats.

When Elliot, who had felt a sudden surge of irritation yet again from the recollection, gulped down the cold coffee into his throat. Just as fond memories of working through the night while sucking on iced americano were coming to mind, someone pushed aside the curtain and entered. It was Wel, the owner of Cafe Siren, and Generwin Tulion.

“Author, hello.”

Generwin naturally threw an arm around Elliot’s shoulder and sat down right next to him. Wel placed a bundle of letters, a few sheets of paper, and writing instruments on the table.

“The replies are right here. You can just copy them onto the paper.”

“Ah, thank you, sir~”

Elliot put down his teacup and quickly offered a polite greeting. But Wel jumped up and waved his hands vigorously.

“Please speak comfortably to me, author.”

“Pardon? What author….”

As Elliot looked awkward, Wel lowered his voice.

“I heard about it from Mr. Generwin. That you are the one who wrote The Sword’s Blossom.”

“Wel is obsessed with The Sword’s Blossom.”

Generwin provided a supplementary explanation, but it was all gibberish that Elliot couldn’t comprehend at all.

“The Sword’s Blossom?”

“You’re still pretending not to know, as expected.”

“Well, naturally. It’s a shameful past, after all.”

When Generwin said this casually, Wel took offense and glared at Generwin.

“Shameful, you say! The Sword’s Blossom is a masterpiece of the century! But… I understand. If the author wishes to pretend not to know, I will take this secret to my grave.”

Could The Sword’s Blossom possibly be that novel El Black wrote? Sword, what was it… A Flower Blossomed from a Sword? No, A Flower Blossomed at the Tip of a Sword.

Loran had been right. El Black picked a terrible title. It wasn’t memorable at all.

“I don’t know what other fools might say, but you are a hero of my own, author.”

With that, Wel thumped his own chest hard with his fist and brought his thumb and index finger together to pinch them.

“Why are you suddenly making a finger heart at me…?”

“What is a finger heart? Isn’t this the male protagonist’s signature pose, symbolizing a flower blooming from one’s heart!”

“Ah… oh my….”

Elliot’s expression sank coldly.

Just what kind of novel did the original owner of this body write?

However, interpreting Elliot’s strange expression somehow, Wel nodded resolutely.

“I understand. You really wish to completely conceal your identity, author. I have committed a rudeness. I apologize. Please continue your work in comfort.”

Even as he said this, he secretly tossed a finger heart—which looked like a finger heart no matter how you looked at it—and made his exit. At the bold affectionate gesture of a middle-aged man with graying hair, Elliot could only manage to raise the corners of his mouth.

As soon as Wel left, Generwin, who had been holding back his laughter beside him, shook Elliot’s shoulder while snickering.

“Author, you’re quite popular.”

“Please don’t tease me.”

Laughing heartily, Generwin pulled one sheet out of the bundle of replies and unfolded it.

“To the peerless coward in the world. This was sent by Lady Violet. Remember? The daughter of that terrifying Marquis of Flint.”

“I’ll copy it. Hand it over.”

As Elliot tried to snatch the letter from Generwin’s hands, Generwin playfully pulled his body back and read the letter aloud.

“To the peerless coward in the world. There are two types of people in the world. Those who safely enshrine precious jewels in an underground treasury when they acquire them, and those who fashion them into necklaces to wear and proudly display anywhere. From my perspective, you are a coward yet closer to the latter. Then which side is the lie? Do not send a reply. I do not wish to exchange letters like this with you. Precious jewels should be cherished preciously, from Violet Flint.”

Elliot’s complexion turned pale blue.

“D-, did I write the letter wrong?”