Dear Mr. Dove,

You probably don't remember me. In fact, I'm almost sure of it. But I remember you, and I hope you don't mind me writing you this letter. My name is Flora Reinhold, and I'm Professor Layton's ward.

During your trial, I kept replaying your life's story over and over in my head. I kept thinking about how you were orphaned and how the deaths of your parents were swept under a rug… and then how you were adopted and left a large fortune by another parent who was taken from you too soon. I'm writing to tell you that, in some small way, I understand why you did what you did. I even forgive you for kidnapping me and using me as bait for Professor Layton (although I won't forget it).

I was a lonely child. My life had all the makings of some sort of fairytale: the odd citizens, the locked tower… but it had none of the good stuff. The happy endings. The fairy godmothers. The prince. Even now, the loneliness sometimes comes back. Professor Layton can never replace my father, just as Constance could never replace your parents. I understand that.

I understand feeling like you got a raw deal. I understand wishing every single day that things could be different.

During your trial, I asked Professor Layton if there was anything we could do for you, but he told me there wasn't. I hope reaching out to you will help you, even if it's in the smallest way. I'm not expecting a response though. I just wanted to let you know that someone from the outside is still thinking about you.

Sincerely,

Flora

Dear Flora,

I'm not sure how much of this letter will make it through the censors, as the guards look through everyone's correspondence. Hopefully most of it will make it through.

I remember you. Of course I do. And I'm so sorry for what I did. I'll never be able to express how truly sorry I am, even I write on and on forever. I'm happy to see you've forgiven me, although I don't deserve your forgiveness one bit.

Thank you for your kind words. You sure have a way with them… And I know exactly what you mean, about feeling trapped in some sort of messed up fairytale. Have you ever noticed how many orphans there are in fairytales? Quite curious. Perhaps that's a riddle for Professor Layton?

As for your happy ending, I hope you find it (I wish I could recommend a fairy godmother or a prince, but you'll find neither where I am).

I know I shouldn't expect much, but I would love a response from you. It's awfully dull here.

Regards,

Clive

Dear Clive,

You're right, aren't you? Fairytale characters are always orphans. I asked Professor Layton and he said it was probably to help along the story. Parents would get in the way of the protagonist's adventures. How awful, don't you think?

I wasn't expecting much on the prince or fairy godmother front, but thanks for trying.

What is there to do in that dreadful place? I hope your guards didn't remove anything from your letter. I received it in pristine condition, so I doubt they touched it.

If you're truly bored, what about a riddle? "I am always in risk, yet never in danger. You may find me in the sun, but I am never out of darkness." What could it be?

Until next time (hopefully),

Flora

Dear Flora,

I suppose Professor Layton must be right. It is quite dreadful, I agree.

Not much. There's a library here, although I've gone through most of the books. Mostly I sit and think. I've got a story running in my head to keep me amused. Puzzles are also helpful in staving off boredom, and yours is quite good, although I think I've got it… the letter "S"?

I'm glad to hear they haven't removed anything from my letters! It's nice to picture you reading them exactly as I have written them.

I just realized you know where I am… but where are you? Off on another adventure with the insatiably curious Professor Layton?

Best wishes,

Clive

(P.S. I've a riddle for you, too. A guard told me this one: What does man love more than life? Fear more than death or mortal strife? What do the poor have, what the rich require, and what contented men desire? What does the miser spend, the spendthrift save, and all men carry to their graves?)