Alice's Adventures in Wonderland - 4: Whispers from Haren Court
The Haren royal family never claimed that the author Homerus was from the Haren Kingdom. They merely expressed, from a traditional perspective, that they felt the cultural spirit of the Haren Kingdom in the great works of the author Homerus. It was their own way of showing respect to a great writer. They dismissed the Homerus royal family theory as a question not worth answering.
And that response got twisted like this when it reached the press.
In truth, this level of 'reinterpretation' was commonplace in how statements were transmitted through the media. The problem was that this happened to be the hottest topic in the Empire.
Kindersley Publishing issued a late correction article denying the baseless rumors, but people reinterpreted even that to suit their tastes.
As for rumors tying into the 'royal family' like this, the Haren Palace spokesperson's office could do little but ignore them. They truly knew nothing. The Haren Kingdom itself was notoriously closed off about 'royal family' matters.
Unlike the Empire, a constitutional monarchy with a parliament, the Haren Kingdom's king served as both the religious leader doubling as the Eastern Church's bishop and the secular ruler of the state. Yet the current king of that 'royal family' was so laid-back—nicknamed the Lazy King—that he neglected the kingdom entirely.
Due to these internal and external circumstances, the Haren royal family lacked any capacity to respond to external rumors. Regardless of the nation's stature, their diplomatic bandwidth was absurdly insufficient. That was the root of this fiasco.
President Kindersley bowed her head as if mortified, then finally spoke in a trembling voice.
"…M-Mr. Author, what… what do we do about this…?"
"What do you mean, what? We let it be…."
In the end, instead of responding to the rumor, I decided to let the whole matter fade away on its own.
Of course, revealing my 'true' identity—as Ed, the second son of the Frieden family head—would kill the rumor dead. But…
…Father would have a heart attack if I did.
I didn't mind the hassle for myself, but Father would likely bolt from the main house the moment attention turned his way. I had no desire to be branded an unfilial son, so I'd keep my identity hidden as much as possible.
This might even work out for the best. The more outlandish rumors ballooned, the less likely anyone would uncover my real identity.
"Anyway, President. That's the end of the Haren Kingdom talk. Didn't you say there was something else?"
"Ah! Yes! The 'Hayden Magic Theater Troupe' contacted us—they want to adapt your work into a play!"
"A play?"
"Yes! A few other troupes have made proposals too, but Hayden's the biggest, and their offer's the best… I thought I should run it by you first."
I'd seen a Hayden performance or two myself. They were the largest troupe in the Imperial Capital, and I remembered their flashy magical staging.
The actual story content… well, it was hard to give high marks there.
"Handle that part like always, President. I trust you."
"Got it!"
Separate from the rumors about me—or rather, the author 'Homerus'—novels inspired by the works I'd plagiarized began appearing in the world.
Especially ones drawing from Alice's Adventures in Wonderland—dreamy, fairy-tale atmospheres in several publications. It hinted at the dawn of modernist literature, pursuing symbolic, instinctual art unbound by rational reality.
Of course, without accompanying shifts in social paradigms or civilizational progress, it was merely structural change. Some novels obsessed with poetic language even felt like a regression to classical epics.
That had its own reading appeal.
And among them, the most enjoyable was…
"Oh, you wrote a new novel yourself?"
"Y-Yes! I-I had this s-story I'd been th-thinking about forever, t-told it as a f-fairy tale to the k-kids, and then I w-wrote it d-down…. Hehe…."
A wondrous fairy tale by Rolls Camel.
"It's quite a hefty volume?"
"Y-Yes…. I w-wrote down every st-story I used to t-tell the children…. H-Haven't seen them l-lately, though…."
Rolls Camel's fairy tale sparkled with intellect and the unique purity of a child. It differed a bit from Alice's Adventures in Wonderland. Her novel had a clear narrative direction.
Like protagonist-centered stories, the child in Rolls Camel's tale journeyed through worlds, facing adventures and conflicts. It felt a tad verbose at times, but never heavy or pretentious.
"It feels like an epic novel for children."
"R-Really? Hehe…."
"It's good. Really good."
I wasn't sure if this novel would succeed like the classics I'd plagiarized. But as someone who'd studied literature, I couldn't help but admire the greatness of the inspiration within.
So, what I had to say to the author 'Rolls Camel' was clear.
"Let's publish it."
"Y-Yes!"
This book needed more people's judgments. No matter how great the inspiration, if it stayed locked in the author's drawer, it could never become a work.
President Kindersley will love this.
She loved reading as much as I did. I could vividly imagine her reaction to this fairy tale, whatever her exact verdict. She'd love it. Immensely.
"Let's go see a play?"
At the Frieden mansion. During dinner, Eric suddenly made the suggestion.
"Yeah. All your novels are turning into plays or performances, but you never show interest—you just write. You need a change of pace sometimes."
"Hm, I'm not really into theater…."
"Still, it's based on your novel. Wouldn't it be fun to see? Especially the Hayden Troupe's Alice's Adventures in Wonderland right now—it's famous for being spectacular."
"Hmmm…."
It would indeed be meaningful to see how my plagiarized novels influenced other cultural arts. A nice diversion too.
Come to think of it, I'd been charging ahead without respite. My drive to advance literature had made me neglect everything else.
Entertainment wasn't limited to literature. Time to pick up some new hobbies.
"Sure. Let's go together."
"I already reserved the tickets. It's been forever since we went out together, right?"
"…Has it?"
Ah. No, wait. Before literature or art… I'd barely spent time with family….
Excluding dinner tables, the last time I'd spent separate time with family… uh… was there… ever…?
"…Want to come with us too, Father, Mother?"
"Nah. What play at my age? You brothers go."
"Hehe, I'll pass too. Have a good time, you two."
"Ah, okay."
…Time to reflect. Literature isn't everything in life.
I need to spend more time with family from now on.
The magic play was undeniably fun. It felt like I'd truly fallen into Wonderland.
The landscapes, scents, everything conjured by illusion magic was dreamily ethereal yet vividly real. Some scenes defied description in records, lingering only as impressions—like grins without cats.
I'd never felt the reality of magic in this world as intensely as today.
As the play ended, curtain call brought the actors onstage. Behind them, the magical stagings used throughout distorted into a panoramic exhibit.
"The play was fun, right?"
"Yeah…. It was just like a movie."
"Movie?"
"Oh, uh. Something like that."
"That old man who crashed mid-play—what was up with him? Dressed like Don Quixote."
"Dunno…."
"Kinda hilarious. Slicing illusions with his staff—was that staging too? Anyway, super fun."
"Yeah…."
Eric rattled on with his impressions beside me, but it didn't register. A certain impulse swirled in my mind.
The decision came swiftly.
"Brother, I…."
"Yeah?"
"I need to write a play…!"
"…Huh?"
I'd just reflected hours ago that literature wasn't my whole life.
But still. Inevitably. Seeing something like that stirs it up.
The plays that dominated half of literary history in my past life… those masterpieces.