Nothing is as useless as expanding the volume of imagination alone, but I can’t help imagining. Whether your long hair gets in the way when you play, whether turning the pages of sheet music is cumbersome—things like that.

Speaking of which, I should play the piano after sending this letter. I’m excited to see how skillfully my fingers will find their way.

The season when snow blocks everything is almost over. Yesterday, the snow stopped for a while, so I went outside. Going out after so long felt liberating.

Although home was just a few steps away, how I missed that brief moment of freedom! In Kasoche, there are no secrets, and even places children mistake for ‘secret bases’ are usually known to adults.

Fortunately, I learned how to climb trees. No one bothers to climb branches on a snowy path.

It’s because I’m lighter than adults. Very occasionally, truly when I want to be alone, fairies help me.

They play light pranks. Making sure no one can find me. You might meet them if you go deep into the mountains, but such luck doesn’t come easily.

Fairies usually—at least those near Kasoche—prefer to tease humans without showing themselves. But they’re favorable to me. Relatively.

When I was very young, I once got lost in the mountains due to a fairy prank. If not for a werewolf gathering wood nearby, I might have come down only after nightfall.

Do you know? Humans, especially young humans, are most easily enchanted by fairy pranks. Next are desperate people.

These pranks aren’t always bad. Sometimes they bring you closer to your ‘wish.’

When the snowstorm completely stops, good and bad things will happen simultaneously.

That person and his family, who used the extreme cold as an excuse, will leave, and the mansion will become busy again. I’ll resume my studies.

These days, Dad keeps giving speeches about how I need to learn household affairs. Usually, he would yield to Mom and say ‘let our youngest do what he wants,’ but suddenly he’s talking about needing to know ledgers to manage the mansion and such.

I have no intention of managing the mansion.

It’s fallen to me because neither of my brothers will take it. The eldest is busy with merchant guild work, and the second has a respectable job.

But the youngest still has three years until coming of age. I know Dad can’t manage the mansion forever. But it’s not time yet, is it? And I also……

What’s the point of thinking more about it? My Dad is fully prepared to teach me work now. There’s nowhere to escape in this small village—especially with snow.

I might not be able to do as well as Dad hopes even after learning. Mom and Dad occasionally say, ‘Carol isn’t incapable, but he’s mediocre.’

Whether in painting or piano.

I’ve had plenty of time to notice that.

Despite everything, it’s better than those people continuing to stay. Please pray that I meet Dad’s expectations. If you have any wishes left.

Carol, who will soon be buried in ledgers

P.S. I’ve been knitting whenever I feel troubled, and I’ve already completed a sweater and a scarf. The problem is, I’ve done this every winter—I have an overflow of unused scarves, sweaters, and gloves. I’ve given as many as I could to my family, and my drawers are full of unused wool bundles. Should I change my hobby?]

[To Carol

A mountain of wool bundles, that’s impressive! As I’ve said repeatedly, I have absolutely no talent for such things. If I were good at sewing, I wouldn’t have to ask the neighbors to mend my clothes.

Thanks to that, I could often talk with Bash when I was young.

When I was very little, that man, two years older than me, looked quite handsome. He’s still impressive—the most handsome man in Iota—but after he dated Aila, any ‘possibility’ or ‘chance,’ whatever similar delusion I had was completely dismantled.

Above all, he’s Rosette’s lover now.

Watching him precisely thread a thin string through a hole looks like magic. You could probably mend clothes well too. Have you never been troubled by sleeves that don’t fit on hand-me-down clothes?

Today is a ‘special’ day.

Not a birthday or any commemoration. Well, perhaps worth celebrating in our house?

A guest is coming from Delling! I mentioned it briefly before. The vacationer who has a connection with Grandfather.

Iota is now full of outsiders. I hear that every other house is hosting vacationers. Apparently, both Bash and Rosette have returning vacationers from last year.

Grandfather has gone to the dock now. He’ll probably return in about an hour? While I’m a bit excited about a new person coming, I’m equally worried.

Whether it’s a few days or weeks, we’ve never had non-family members stay at our house. Even Rosette never stayed more than half a day, and the boys who met Aila usually waited at the door.

Will we get along well?

Honestly, I’m not confident. I’m barely on ‘just know their faces’ terms with kids I’ve known for over a decade. Without Aila, I wouldn’t have known their faces, let alone their existence.

Won’t they think I’m boring? What if they’re nightmarishly rude? What if they’re promiscuous, seducing everyone?

There’s no use in being afraid in advance, but negative thoughts multiply like summer mold. Grandfather doesn’t know much about that child either. He just tries to persuade me positively, saying ‘you two will be good friends.’

He seems concerned I might say ‘I hate it’ if he mentions anything negative. But even I wouldn’t think of driving away a guest who’s already on the boat.

More than Grandfather, I hope to become good friends with that child.

I can’t be as honest as you, but they’re a new person, right? A real outsider who doesn’t know Aila! On the island, kids my age are one of two types. Either they admire Aila or want to kiss her.

Rosette is the former and Bash is the latter.

But the new person won’t be either. How refreshingly new! It’s quite rare to experience not being Aila’s sister.

Even this correspondence with a peer from the opposite side of the kingdom was an opportunity gained because I’m ‘Aila’s sister’! Of course, I’m sincerely grateful for this luck.

Regardless of how it started, meeting you]

Knock knock.

“Dear, how are you feeling?”

A gentle voice echoed from beyond the door. Asha, briefly hunching her shoulders, closed the ink cap and answered softly.

Grandfather, who had gone out, had returned. The meaning was clear.

Asha rose from her seat, fidgeting with the hem of the skirt she had changed into just before writing the letter. The unfamiliar bustle became clearer as she approached the door.

“I’m fine.”

“Can you come greet them?”

The door opened instead of an answer. Her hair, hanging loose as usual, tickled her thin nape. Heading to the reception room, she found a middle-aged man with a small build and a boy who didn’t resemble him sitting awkwardly.

“Mr. Magnum, this is my youngest granddaughter.”

His stern expression softened gently. Where a pocket square should have been, gold-rimmed glasses hung instead.

The man stood up, extending his right hand with a kind smile.

“Oh, so you’re Asha. I’ve heard a lot about you from the elder. Are the glasses comfortable?”

“He’s the one who’s been fitting your glasses all this time. He even gave us that eye chart.”

The deep blue eyes looked toward the eye chart hanging on the outskirts of the reception room, then returned.

On behalf of Asha, who couldn’t leave the island, William conducted simple tests using that eye chart every year. With those measurements, she could replace her glasses periodically without leaving.