To my anonymous benefactor,

The fallen leaves have piled up outside my dormitory room as well.

Oh, Kademel employs perfectly competent cleaning staff,

so you needn’t worry about my muscles—I won’t be the one sweeping them up.

However… winter is still far off,

and even if it were just around the corner, I would have no need for this many coats.

Please provide an address to which I may return them.

Hoping for a refund,

Ruelne Scharnhost.

Dear Mr. Scharnhost,

First, let me apologize in advance.

I’m sorry to begin with the main point.

But asking for a refund is too cruel!

Children grow up as quickly as sunflowers, you know.

Please accept them.

(omitted)

My home address is a secret. Hohoho.

To my gravely mistaken anonymous benefactor,

Pray do not turn me into someone who feigns a refund

simply to uncover your home address.

I have no interest in it.

Dear Mr. Scharnhost,

How heartless—your letter is far too short!

(omitted)

Stay healthy, always,

from the Tall Lady with a cold.

Dear Mr. Scharnhost,

For the first time, my letter is late. It wasn’t intentional.

(…Though somehow, I doubt Mr. Scharnhost would be particularly bothered even if I wrote that.)

The day I meant to write, I spilled my ink bottle.

I was slightly overworked and the world spun before my eyes—pathetically frail of me, I know.

What saddened me most was that your latest letter

ended up stained with ink.

It pained me far more that your letter was soaked than any official documents.

But what’s done is done, I suppose.

Please be careful with ink, Mr. Scharnhost.

From the Tall Lady,

who has turned into an ink monster.

To my careless anonymous benefactor,

You spilled ink—

so now I understand the identity of the black blotches smudged across the page.

Please don’t trouble yourself over my letter being stained.

In the end, it is only a letter. If you wish, I can copy it out again word for word.

More importantly, did you not suffer from a cold last autumn as well?

…Might you perhaps be in delicate health?

If you do not mind, may I enclose some tea?

Ruelne Scharnhost.

To Mr. Scharnhost, with gratitude,

Thank you for your concern.

But you needn’t worry so much.

It’s something that happens once or twice a year.

I was quite startled by the tea you enclosed—it’s a brand of Tarame that’s terribly difficult to obtain these days.

I’m grateful for the thought, but please don’t overextend yourself.

Your good health and happiness as you continue your studies

are happiness enough for me.

(omitted)

Praying that we both remain well,

the Tall Lady.

Dear anonymous benefactor,

Are you saying I have no right even to worry for you?

And why… do you no longer call yourself ‘your’ Tall Lady?

I would ask.

Dear anonymous benefactor,

As you were curious to know, the garden here is blanketed in snow.

I cannot see it myself, but I am told it resembles flowers.

While I am relieved to hear no news of you being ill this year,

I cannot help but wonder whether you have decided not to share such news with me anymore.

I have read up to Chapter Five of the book you sent.

I was surprised—it is the first novel you have ever sent me, after all…

So this is your taste.

I will remember that.

May I send you the next volume as a gift?

Awaiting your reply,

from your Scharnhost.

You wretchedly mischievous student of mine!

Heavens! Heavens! You read that? Truly?

It was a mistake—an honest mistake! Oh… please let that talk of reading up to Chapter Five be a joke.

That is… yes, it is an improper book!

Not one Ruelne should be reading. Oh merciful heavens, this is entirely my fault.

If I may defend myself, it was absolutely, absolutely not a book I intended to read.

A prank-loving friend must have hidden it among my stack of books, and I sent it by accident.

I beg you to throw it away. Please.

With earnest wishes,

your Tall Lady.

Dear anonymous benefactor,

Regrettably, it has been over a year since I came of age.

As I am no longer a young boy, I should note that there was nothing whatsoever unlawful, by imperial law, in my reading it.

And… if this was truly your friend’s prank,

there were signs of wear here and there, and several pages folded neatly in half to serve as bookmarks.

I shall say no more.

As it was a gift, I will treasure it.

Instead, I swear I shall not read it. Would that put your mind at ease?

Beyond that, I find myself suddenly curious

how you are passing this season.

Other than ‘improper’ books or pursuits,

I would be glad to hear even some small, trivial story.

I make this request cautiously, as I have often wished you would ask after my daily life as well—

forgive me if it is impertinent.

With respectful winter greetings,

Ruelne Scharnhost.

Dear Ruelne,

You deliberately bolded only the word ‘improper,’ didn’t you!