Ascendance of a Bookworm (LN) - Volume 2.3 - Chapter 15

An After-Meal Invitation 

“H-High Priest...” 

“I would hope that you know you are too low in status to decline.” 

I turned to the High Priest for help since the invitation gave me a really bad feeling, but he shot me down without a second thought. 

This is a gathering of nobles, after all. A commoner like me would never have the right to refuse. I know that. But it was worth a shot. 

“C’mere, Myne.” 

Despite the High Priest having gone out of his way to seat us apart from each other, Sylvester patted the space on the table between him and Karstedt, signaling for me to sit beside him. I paused, unsure of what to do since there wasn’t actually anywhere for me to sit, but Karstedt and Damuel both stood and began to change seats, telling me to just give up. 

“Myne, walk around the table as Damuel did and sit next to Sylvester.” The High Priest gave my back a regretful push, knowing that Sylvester’s order wasn’t something that could be refused. 

“E-Excuse me.” I walked around the dining hall’s large table and, having no other choice, sat down next to Sylvester. Karstedt was on my other side, so I scooted towards him on my chair as subtly as I could manage. Damuel was sitting opposite to me, and the High Priest was opposite to Sylvester. 

“Listen, Myne,” Sylvester began, “how about we trade chefs? You’d be fine with that, right? It’s not stealing; it’s trading.” 

But these were Benno’s chefs. He would definitely be mad if I traded them without his permission, and the potential of our recipes leaking would be a big problem. 

“The chefs are being lent to me by someone else. I cannot agree to trade them on my own.” 

“Then I’ll negotiate with that someone. Who is it?” 

Benno wasn’t in a position where he could refuse an order from a noble, but it would be a disaster if the Italian restaurant he had devoted so many resources to could no longer open due to a lack of cooking staff. I could already imagine Benno’s and Mark’s agonizing headaches as they watched their investment drain away into nothingness. 

“Brother Sylvester, a humble merchant could not refuse a request made by one of noble status such as yourself. You would not come to him to negotiate, but rather to make an unreasonable demand he could not refuse.” 

“Yeah, I guess it would end up like that with a merchant,” murmured Sylvester, a flash of amusement in his eyes. 

It seemed that the High Priest was right when he said that Sylvester had a good heart buried extremely, extremely deep within him. He didn’t explode with anger at my observation; in fact, he raised his chin a little, gesturing for me to continue. 

I glanced at the High Priest, who offered a subtle nod. Damuel was trembling beside him, his face a ghastly shade of white, but it just wasn’t an option for me to lose my chefs here. 

“My chefs are due to work in an eatery that is planned to open soon. They are in training for that now, and a lot of money has been spent on both training them and preparing the eatery. The sum may not be much to a member of the nobility, but it is an amount that could mean life or death to a commoner. Would you still take the chefs knowing that doing so would destroy that restaurant, Brother Sylvester? If you liked their cooking so much, I would ask that you instead wait for the eatery to open and become a customer there.” 

“Oh, an eatery? You’re saying commoners are gonna eat that food?” Sylvester’s eyes widened in disbelief, and with a smile just like the one Benno gave his best customers, I took the opportunity to advertise the restaurant. 

“The prices will be expensive enough that only those known as wealthy in the lower city will be able to afford them, and only those recommended by existing customers will be served. The dining area is modeled after the mansion of a noble, and will provide food similar to that which nobles eat—or rather, it will provide food that not even nobles have eaten.” 

“Yeah? And who’s gonna introduce me?” 

“...Umm, since you seem interested, I will introduce you to them myself.” 

In all honesty, I really didn’t want to bear what would surely be the enormous responsibility of introducing an unpredictable grade-schooler like Sylvester to the restaurant, but it was better than him stealing our chefs and ruining everything. 

“Alright. Introduce me, then. I’ll give the place a look.” 

“I thank you ever so much. Lord Karstedt, High Priest, would you like to come as well?” I pleaded with my eyes that I wanted someone to keep Sylvester under control, and they both reluctantly nodded at the same time. 

...Brother Sylvester is kind of a noble, so maybe Benno will appreciate this? Or maybe he’ll hate it. I wonder which. Either way, I want him to appreciate that I was the one who peacefully stopped his chefs from getting stolen away. 

As I silently praised myself for my heroic efforts, the High Priest—a glass of wine and some simple snacks like ham and cheese in hand—suddenly raised his head as though he had just remembered something. 

“Myne, why not have Rosina play the harspiel for us?” he asked, which reminded me that he had allowed her to bring the harspiel in the first place so that she could provide “a source of great comfort during the long nights.” 

I called Fran over with a glance and told him to tell Rosina that we wanted her to play the harspiel. Karstedt widened his eyes at my words. 

“A commoner has a harspiel?” 

“The High Priest told me I should learn how to play it.” 

I told him about how the High Priest had ordered my education, which made Karstedt murmur, “So he’s already begun his preparations. I would expect nothing less of Lord Ferdinand.” Considering that the High Priest had said nothing of me being adopted by a noble at that point, one could say that his foresight was impressive indeed. 

“Myne has a talent for music. You have been keeping up your practice, correct?” 

“Rosina is just a talented teacher, that’s all.” 

The High Priest directed his praise at me, but Rosina was the one enforcing my practice. She wouldn’t let me skip it no matter how much I wanted to, and anyone who practiced an instrument daily would get better at it. The only reason my piano skills didn’t improve during my Urano days was because I didn’t practice every day. 

“I have answered your summons, mistress.” Rosina arrived with the harspiel. A chair from the dinner table had been pulled aside for her, and she sat upon it with a broad smile. Then she played song after song requested by Sylvester. 

“Fantastic. How’d a gray shrine maiden like yourself learn to play harspiel so well?” 

“I was merely provided the opportunity to dedicate myself to the fine arts by my previous mistress, Sister Christine.” 

“Interesting... Alright, Myne. Your turn.” 

Personally, I thought it was pretty cruel to ask me to play right after everyone had heard Rosina. We weren’t even comparable to each other. I hurriedly searched for a reason I could use to turn him down. 

“I, ah... I’m afraid I’m much too small to play the adult-sized harspiel.” 

“Oh? Fear not, Sister Myne. I brought your harspiel as well just in case something like this occurred. Please allow me a moment while I fetch it from your room.” 

...Nooo. Rosina, whyyy...? 

I slumped over in despair. Karstedt gave me a comforting pat on the back, holding back laughter while Sylvester, who was also grinning, looked away from me to the High Priest. 

“Alright. You go ahead and play while we wait, Ferdinand.” 

I was sure the High Priest was going to refuse, but instead he stood up, picked up the harspiel with a single annoyed sigh, and then started to play. The ease with which he could follow up the likes of Rosina was actually pretty impressive, but he had chosen to play the anime song I had taught him. 

...The arrangement made it a little hard to recognize, and the lyrics had been swapped out for religious ones, but it was still an anime song! I struggled to contain my laughter, feeling as though my sides were about to explode as I listened to him play. To think that a little prank I pulled would come back to bite me like this. 

“I’ve never heard that song before,” observed Sylvester. 

“I would expect not,” the High Priest casually replied, which made Sylvester frown. 

“What song was that? Who composed it?” 

“...That is a secret.” The High Priest glanced my way, an arrogant grin spread across his face. I let out a quiet gasp. Sylvester, who was sitting next to me, raised an eyebrow, his green eyes gleaming. 

Gaaah! I don’t want you to publicize it, but don’t tease him like that either! Now he’s all interested, I can tell! 

As a storm of panic ravaged me on the inside, Rosina returned with the small harspiel. 

“Here you are, Sister Myne.” 

“Thank you, Rosina.” 

I strummed and chose to play a simple practice song I had learned. I made sure not to play one from my Urano days, as that would have been digging my own grave. I sure have grown. 

“...You’re alright, but not that great.” 

“I believe it is your turn to play, Brother Sylvester. I would like to hear your music.” 

I was surrounded by the artistically gifted—Rosina, Wilma, and the High Priest—so I had no idea what was expected from an average noble. Now seemed like a good opportunity to figure that out by having Sylvester play. 

“Heh. So you wanna hear my harspiel playing, huh? Alright, consider yourself lucky. I’ll play.” 

Sylvester confidently picked up the harspiel, but judging by his behavior and attitude it was hard for me to imagine he was at all musically inclined. Though as it turned out, looks can be deceiving. He was far more talented than I expected; he gently strummed away, his singing voice hitting all the right notes. 

...Ngggh. Nobles are all way too high-level. I had been hoping for proof that the High Priest was asking too much of me, but in the end all I got was confirmation that nobles really were insanely skilled. 

“Would you like to play as well, Lord Karstedt?” 

“I’m not much of a harspiel player. Maybe if I had my flute, but I neglected to bring it.” 

In a shocking twist, it seemed that even a buff military man like Karstedt could play an instrument, though he preferred to use an instrument that made use of the lung capacity he had built up through his training rather than one that just required him to strum thin strings. 

Um, wow. That’s kinda cool. 

“But far be it from me to sit and do nothing after everyone else has performed. Hm... I suppose the only thing I could perform here and now is a sword dance.” 

“A sword dance?! I’ve never seen one of those. I would love to see yours, if you would.” Not even in my Urano days had I seen an actual sword dance. I looked up at Karstedt, my eyes sparkling with anticipation. 

He called over Damuel with a nod, then took out his shining wand and murmured “schwert.” In an instant, the wand turned into a sword. The two men faced each other, lightly tapped the tips of their blades together, and then thrust them up into the air. That was the signal to start. 

They both began cutting through the air, their deadly blades gleaming as they danced at an even tempo, moving fluidly and without any wasted energy. 

Apparently the sword dance was used as a way of practicing the several different basic moves it was composed of, and it could be expected that everyone in the Knight’s Order was capable of executing it. But when performing it without rehearsing first as Karstedt and Damuel were, one had to carefully observe the other’s movements and their line of sight to move in unison. Falling out of sync was dangerous to them both. 

Sweat was beading on Damuel’s forehead and his breathing was getting heavier. Noticing that, Karstedt pulled back his sword, a composed expression on his face. 

“That should do it.” 

“Amazing! Lord Karstedt, Sir Damuel, you’re both amazing! I was so scared one of you would get hurt, but you finished with aplomb!” 

I continued to let loose a flood of compliments. But Sylvester protested, saying he could do that much himself, and then immediately started sword dancing with Karstedt. 

Um... Can I go back to my room now? 

Sylvester looked pretty cool too as he performed the sword dance with a deadly serious expression. I could tell from their speed alone that this was a higher level sword dance than the last one, but really that just annoyed me. 

“Heh. That was pretty cool, huh? Go ahead, lavish me with praise,” Sylvester crowed, his chest proudly puffed out. 

The sword dance was over, and I could once again say from the very bottom of my heart that I found him annoying. So, so annoying. He was already back to his usual grade-school self, and any semblance of coolness and all my awe for him was blown away in an instant. 

“...You were splendid, Brother Sylvester.” 

“Wow, so monotone. Try again.” 

He forced me to repeat my praise three times, at which point he was such a pain to deal with that I faked feeling sick just so I had an excuse to hurry back to the room I had been given.