Ascendance of a Bookworm (LN) - Volume 4.3 - Chapter 5

A Place to Call Home

With the old magic contracts nullified, we needed to sign new ones so that Sylvester could direct the expansion of the paper-making and printing industries. He would not sign them as himself, however, but as Aub Ehrenfest—this way, his successor would remain in control when he eventually passed the torch. Benno was likewise signing as the Plantin Company to ensure things were future-proofed.

I would be handling most of the practical matters as the archduke’s adopted daughter, so I was signing as an individual. Profit was guaranteed to line my pockets as a result, but since Lutz was just a leherl apprentice, he wasn’t permitted to sign.

This new contract was essentially Aub Ehrenfest purchasing from me the rights to establish paper-making industries, and from Lutz the rights to sell paper, so it included a section wherein a portion of the proceeds would go to the Plantin Company. Of course, the rates were different from before, and other stores would be allowed to buy and sell the products themselves.

“...Plantin Company, is the contract satisfactory?” Sylvester asked.

Benno, who had been glaring at the new magic contract as he looked it over, nodded. “Our gratitude for your immense consideration and generosity is beyond words, Aub Ehrenfest.”

The contract really had been as generous as possible out of consideration for how the Plantin Company and I had been carrying the industries on our shoulders up to this point. To me, though, it stopped being generous the very moment Lutz was excluded from it.

Benno signed the contract and stamped his blood, and I signed my name as well. A scholar then took the parchment and passed it to Aub Ehrenfest for the final signature. A moment later, it was enveloped in golden flame.

And so the new magic contract was in effect—a magic contract without Lutz’s name.

Elvira had said we just needed to form a new connection through the new contract, but no such connection had been made here. My heart grew cold. I was already aware that Lutz and I were growing further apart despite having spent so long together, and this was pretty much shoving that fact in my face.

I want to hug Lutz...

I wanted somebody to comfort me, to reassure me that things weren’t going to change. I wanted contact, warmth, intimacy... Things I couldn’t get as a noble.

I want to go home...

With the magic contract signed, the scholars began to discuss fixing up the lower city. They said through euphemisms that the fastest method was to rebuild everything at once using construction magic, but that a lack of mana to spare on the lower city meant the commoners would need to handle things through manpower alone.

“We would never dare dream of disturbing the aub so,” the guildmaster said, his face completely pale as he bowed alongside Benno. “Please do allow us to handle everything.”

I could hardly blame them for their fear—they had both seen Hasse’s monastery be constructed with magic, and the lower city being messed with in the same manner was a terrifying prospect.

I spoke up, serving as an intermediary between the scholars and merchants. “I shall determine the budget for restructuring the lower city myself and order the scholars accordingly. As you commoners are going to be doing the labor, I entrust those matters to Gustav’s leadership. Begin with the main street running from the west to the east gates, since this route experiences more traffic than anywhere else. We can discuss how to further beautify the lower city at a later date.”

“As you wish, Lady Rozemyne.” The merchants bowed their heads respectfully, their relief clear in their voices.

With the discussion having ended as planned, Sylvester ordered the merchants to leave. They did as instructed, showing not even the slightest hesitation as they filed out of the audience chamber. I watched them carefully, but Lutz didn’t look my way even once.

From there, I was called straight to the archduke’s office. The brains of Ehrenfest were all gathered, and the scholars explained to those who hadn’t attended our meeting with the merchants the results of our discussion.

“As requested, the Plantin Company received the highest accommodations in the new magic contract,” one said. It was apparently normal to buy the rights and leave things at that, but the Plantin Company was also getting a portion of the profits. It was only a small portion, but it would serve as a continual source of income for a new company that had only been established a couple of years ago.

The scholar went on to insinuate that such a contract never would have been signed had the store not been in my favor. I couldn’t help but frown at this remark, irritated; he had no idea how much we had struggled to invent these technologies, nor was he aware how much Benno had helped Lutz and me back when we had literally nothing to our names. It was downright insulting for him to frame this as nothing more than empty favoritism.

“Rozemyne,” Ferdinand said, briskly moving his hand and instructing me to contain myself. I exhaled slowly and put on my best fake smile.

“The contract we signed with the Plantin Company was only to do with printing and the manufacturing and sale of paper. There was no clause regarding the granting of any technologies, correct?”

“Rozemyne...?”

“Instructors will soon be sent from the Rozemyne Workshop, and the Plantin Company will begin establishing branches of the Ehrenfest Paper Guild and the Printing Guild in service of the construction of additional workshops. I will decide the price paid for the granting of technologies and extract it from the giebes, to be paid to the Plantin Company and to Illgner for providing instructors of their own.”

My sudden proclamation elicited wide-eyed stares from all those present. Sylvester in particular blinked in confusion. “Where’s this coming from? What’s the point in doing that?” he asked.

“Given this discussion and the situation, I suspect the Plantin Company and the assisting craftsmen will not be paid the proper amount for their granting of technologies, since the contract mentions no such thing. I cannot imagine noble scholars will be capable of understanding the difficulties said merchants and craftsmen will face in needing to train new workers during the spring while simultaneously participating in these new industries and doing their usual duties.”

This was not charity work; it was large-scale industrialization being led by the archduke. There was no chance of the budget being divided for the Gutenbergs, however, nor were they likely to be given the leeway necessary for them to do their jobs. The only future I could envision was one in which the nobles crushed my precious craftsmen with their usual unreasonable demands.

“Ah. This must be a difference between commoners and nobles...” one scholar speculated, seeming to have misinterpreted my attempt to convey that I couldn’t trust them to play such a pivotal role in work they didn’t even understand. I envisioned a dunce cap on their head; they were a complete failure in my mind.

“That is one way of putting it. Another is that I have no intention of entrusting important duties to those who will make no attempt to understand the details of our work. I will train the scholars involved in the paper-making and printing industries myself,” I declared with a smile.

Ferdinand shot me a surprised glare. “Calm yourself, Rozemyne. That is not something for you to decide on your own,” he said. This was an industry being spearheaded by Aub Ehrenfest himself—it was outright disrespectful for me to take charge without consulting him, but I refused to stand and watch as the Plantin Company and the Gutenbergs were ground into the dust.

“Who will decide these things if not me? How many scholars are familiar with printing and paper-making? How many have spent time with craftsmen and businesses, and have it in them to grow the burgeoning industries further? Did you train any such scholars during the two years I was asleep, Ferdinand? Did Aub Ehrenfest? Doing so is only natural if one plans to develop new industries, would you not agree? I would be delighted to see them, so that I do not have to raise them myself,” I said, knowing that no such scholars existed because the ones here with us were so incompetent.

I was ultimately doing a poor job at disguising my inner thoughts. Sylvester averted his gaze, having essentially neglected the two industries while entrusting all the work to Ferdinand, who was presently rubbing his temples.

“I believe Justus has grasped the industries over the past two years,” Ferdinand said, his voice a low groan.

“Then I will raise the scholars with Justus at their center,” I replied. He was a weirdo who all but dedicated his life to the pursuit of collecting intelligence, but he didn’t show much prejudice toward commoners and was obsessed with new things. He was an ideal candidate for working in these new industries.

I nodded with a smile, pleased to have so suddenly obtained such a skilled worker, only for Ferdinand to shake his head. “No. He is too useful to me. I will not have you stealing him away.”

“Rozemyne, Justus serves Ferdinand. You can’t use another person’s retainer without their permission. Pick any of the scholars here instead,” Sylvester added. He was giving me free rein over them, but that didn’t matter to me; I had no use for incompetents.

“Aub Ehrenfest, I have been involved with printing and paper-making since the very beginning. These industries are my babies; they have only reached their current scope because I nurtured them so dearly. Printing and the creation of paper, as well as the making of the tools required for both, have always been done by large groups of commoners. Nobles have not been involved at any point, and I have absolutely no intention of entrusting my children to those who cannot understand the importance of the Plantin Company and the craftsmen involved. Such incompetent scholars will only force unreasonable demands on them, grinding them into the dirt with their ignorance. They have no talent for anything but the destruction of others.”

“So in other words, you don’t want any of the scholars here?”

“Correct. I understand we are suffering a shortage of manpower, but I would greatly appreciate individuals who have at least a sliver of skill and wisdom to their names.”

Sylvester winced as I started to list what I needed from scholars: a lack of prejudice toward visiting the temple, the ability to converse normally with commoners, and a general interest in new things. “Those aren’t skills scholars are expected to have, you know.”

“Of course. It would not be natural for traditionally educated scholars to be capable of doing work with commoners. Someone who is competent for your purposes, aub, may not be competent for mine.”

“I see.” Sylvester nodded and crossed his arms. “Alright then. I’m leaving the training of workers for the paper-making and printing industries to you, Rozemyne; nobody in Ehrenfest is more familiar in these areas. Plus, I don’t know what resources you’re going to need.”

“May I speak for a moment?” Elvira asked, breaking her silence as she placed a hand on her cheek. “Might I suggest training the layscholars and medscholars serving as the giebes’ government officials?”

The unexpected suggestion caused all eyes to fall on Elvira. Pretty much every noble here had been born and raised in the Noble’s Quarter; it was safe to say that, excluding Elvira herself, who had been raised as the daughter of Giebe Haldenzel, there were no traditional land-owning nobles here.

“They have had more opportunities to interact with commoners than those raised in the Noble’s Quarter, and if we inform them that they can line the pockets of their provinces with a new industry, they will certainly take the learning seriously.”

“That is an excellent idea. I shall investigate its potential,” I said, but I got the feeling that would only make it harder to charge the giebes for the technologies they were being taught. I would talk it over with Benno later; my decision needed to be based on how competent the scholars were as workers.

That night, I had a dream. I was walking alone down a long dirt road with no end in sight. A single light shone in the sky like the North Star, and I was walking in its direction.

At first, I was alone. But then my family joined me. And Lutz. And Benno, and Mark. Things were getting more and more lively. Lutz would carry me on his back, or Dad on his shoulders, or Benno and Mark in their arms. They were all helping me along the way. We all talked as we continued our journey, and we laughed about the silliest things together.

Fran and Gil joined in at some point along the way, and the next thing I knew, Ferdinand was there too. By that point, a small amount of grass had sprouted underfoot. It was soft and cushioned my steps. I kept walking forward, holding hands with Lutz and with my family in turn, but the grass continued to grow. It eventually became so tall that I struggled to even press onward.

I pursed my lips, annoyed at the grass. I was being forced down a different path than Lutz and the others, but we were at least moving in the same direction, so I continued my march toward the radiant star.

They’re getting a little too far away...

I could still reach their hands, but they were slowly moving farther away. They were walking slightly faster now too. I desperately raced to keep up, but the grass was pulling at my legs with each panicked step.

Wait! Come back! Don’t leave me!

The more I walked, the more our paths separated. Everyone was laughing and smiling together, but not one person noticed I was falling behind. At some point, our hands had slipped apart. I was alone.

Dad, Mom, Tuuli! Wait for me! Lutz! Lutz! Don’t leave me behind!

The grass was as tall as me now. I pushed it aside, my sobbing uncontrollable as I raced along my path, desperately searching for everyone.

And then a voice broke through the chaos.

“Milady.”

“Rihyarda...?”

I woke up with a start, suddenly aware that someone was shaking me. It took me only a moment to realize Rihyarda was looking down at me with concern. My pillow felt cold. I had apparently been crying in my sleep.

I sat up slowly and rubbed my eyes, shaking my head several times in an attempt to shake away any remnants of my dream. But despite my best efforts, the nightmarish sights were burned into my mind.

“You were stirring quite a bit in your sleep, milady. Are you alright?”

I wasn’t. I wasn’t at all. The back of my head ached, and I could feel my mana boiling up inside of me. Yet I was still unbearably cold.

“Rihyarda, tell Ferdinand that I wish to return to the temple.”

“...As you wish.”

Despite the early hour, Rihyarda sent an ordonnanz at once. I washed my face, had my clothes changed, and then ate breakfast. The ordonnanz returned while we were eating and thrice repeated a message from Ferdinand.

“Rozemyne, I heard your request through Rihyarda, but you have a meeting with Giebe Haldenzel scheduled for today. Can you endure until after then?”

I really didn’t think so. Giebe Haldenzel was among those who, despite the growth of the printing industry, had been unable to establish new paper-making workshops due to the magic contracts. If at any point he expressed his joy about them being nullified, I wasn’t sure I could contain myself.

“This is Rozemyne. I’m going to leave on my own before I cause any problems.”

Ferdinand sent back another ordonnanz in an instant, his message this time punctuated with sighs. “I will come see you after sending a notice about the meeting. Prepare to leave and do not act on your own,” he said.

I clenched my teeth. He was going to make me wait even longer?

Rihyarda patted my tense shoulders. “Now, now, milady. Hurry and finish your breakfast. Judging from how Ferdinand sounded in his response, he should be here in no time. You wouldn’t want to get scolded for calling him early in the morning and then not even being ready to go, would you?” she asked, keeping her voice lively in an attempt to lighten the mood.

I nodded and got back to eating while Ottilie prepared for my return to the temple. I saw her preparing winter clothes and sending off an ordonnanz to contact my guard knights.

“You look even more sickly than usual today. You’ll feel more comfortable at the temple, though, won’t you?” Rihyarda asked, wearing a sad smile. “You can spend today relaxing.”

Just as she had said, Ferdinand appeared in no time at all. He probably would have scolded me had I still been eating breakfast in a daze. “Have you prepared to leave, Rozemyne?” he asked. “If so, we shall depart at once.”

All of the basic necessities I needed could already be found at the temple, so there wasn’t that much luggage for me to drag around. The most important thing this time was the rinfin paper we had gotten from Giebe Illgner.

“Farewell, Lady Rozemyne.”

Ferdinand and Eckhart took the lead, I followed after them in Lessy, then Damuel and Angelica trailed behind me. My impatience caused me to speed up along the way, so the journey went a little quicker than usual.

“Welcome back, Lady Rozemyne.” Fran greeted me when we arrived. Before I could even climb out of my Pandabus, Ferdinand had put away his highbeast and was walking toward him.

“Fran, the arrangements?” Ferdinand queried.

“Completed already. The other attendants are currently organizing the orphanage director’s chambers.”

“It seems much stress has built up within her. Spare the long greetings and take them directly to the hidden room.”

“As you wish.”

Once I had alighted from Lessy, Ferdinand held out a leather bag to me. “Rozemyne, put your hands into this and drain as much of your mana as possible. You do not want to hurt those around you with an emotional explosion of mana, do you?”

“My gratitude.” I took the leather bag and went straight to the orphanage director’s chambers.

“We were all truly surprised by the High Priest sending a letter so early in the morning...” Fran said with a troubled smile. One couldn’t use an ordonnanz to communicate with those who lacked schtappes, so Ferdinand had instead used the magic tool letters that flew like birds to instruct Fran to summon the Plantin Company. “Gil departed in an immense hurry. He should return with Lutz soon.”

The air was ice-cold when we arrived at the largely unused orphanage director’s chambers. Not much time had passed since the furnaces were lit.

“Please keep your coat on; the room has not quite warmed yet,” Fran said, and so I entered the chambers without taking off any of my layers. I was half relieved to see the inside unchanged from when I had been a commoner shrine maiden, but also half discomforted—it was yet another reminder of how much things had changed. It was like my dream was becoming a reality.

“Lady Rozemyne, please wait in the hidden room with Lord Damuel. Lady Angelica, please guard the door.”

“You can count on me, Fran. Leaving the hard merchant talk to Damuel is the right call for sure,” Angelica said, gladly making her way to the chamber’s front door. She had broadcast her ineptitude and general aversion to thinking so openly that I expected Fran to cradle his head, considering that he was so similar to Ferdinand, but he didn’t appear at all bothered. Instead, he handled her effortlessly, perhaps because she was so much less stiff and formal than Brigitte had been.

“To think I’d be going back in there again after so long...” Damuel muttered as we climbed the stairs and went into my hidden room, though I opted to ignore him. The room was open to my attendants and already clean thanks to their quick work.

I made sure the door was kept wide open so that Lutz could come in; then, I sat in the chair Fran had offered me. He looked down at me with an uncertain expression. “Might I suggest using the leather bag the High Priest has allowed you to borrow?” he asked. “The color of your eyes seems to be a bit unstable.”

When one’s eye color began to change, it often indicated that they were losing control of their mana. I hurriedly stuck my hands into the bag and noticed there were many small, round things inside. They instantly began sucking out my mana.

I wonder what these are, exactly?

I peeked inside and saw several black feystones, some of which had already broken apart into golden dust. Ferdinand was evidently hoping to contain my rampaging mana while simultaneously securing some valuable crafting resources for himself. Was I the only one annoyed at his thorough planning?

“I have brought Lutz!” Gil exclaimed, bursting into the orphanage director’s chambers. His breathing was a little ragged, maybe due to him having sprinted here at full speed.

“Gil, Lady Rozemyne is in her hidden room,” Fran said. “Please guide Lutz there.”

“Understood.”

I could hear Gil and Lutz climbing the stairs. Their movements had been nothing but graceful for some time, but now their footsteps were quick and unsteady.

“Lutz, thank you very much for coming this early in the morning. I entrust the rest to you,” Fran said, allowing Lutz and Gil into the hidden room and then immediately shutting the door behind them. Their shoulders heaved up and down as they struggled to catch their breaths.

I abruptly stood up, not even waiting for the door to fully close, and sprinted toward Lutz. “Lutz, Lutz, Lutz!” I cried, but right as I was about to leap at him, he held me back by my shoulders. “Why stop me?! Can’t we hug?!”

“We can; I just can’t breathe. Let me catch my breath before you dive at me.”

Lutz embraced me, patting my back and telling me to calm down. It was a familiar hug—one that made both my unease and my remaining strength melt away. I wrapped my arms around him in turn and gave a gentle sigh.

“Lutz, Lutz... The contracts being nullified won’t change anything between us, will it...?”

“Well, are you gonna change?” he asked, placing an affectionate hand on my head. I shook my head in response. “Me neither. It’s definitely a little sad that the contracts are gone, but what’s more important to me is my promise to make the things you think up, and that hasn’t changed at all. Things are the same.”

“Right. You’re right. Whew. I had such an awful dream last night. I just couldn’t stand it, so I came back to the temple.”

Lutz gave a weary sigh. “C’mon. Are you telling me I was dragged over here first thing in the morning ’cause you had a bad dream? Is there... not anyone else who can do this kinda thing for you?”

“If there was, we wouldn’t be here right now. There are people who give me more work and things to worry about, but nobody to take my fears away.”

“...Alright. Well, guess my days of getting dragged around are far from over,” he said, looking a little relieved despite his words.

“I couldn’t take it anymore. But once I’ve recharged with you, I can try hard again. Thanks.”

“Just don’t push yourself too much. You’ll collapse,” Lutz said, scrunching up his face and tapping my cheeks. That was a thing of the past now though—I still needed to keep my magic tools on, but it was much rarer for me to actually collapse.

I puffed out my chest with pride. “Once I get a little better, I won’t collapse at all anymore. Just a little better.”

“Why does your saying that make me even more worried?!”

“I’m fine, really. The only reason I’m still sick is because I haven’t fully recovered from the coma yet. How’s Tuuli? Is she doing okay? She has a super important and scary job now, so I’m worried about her.” Both Otto and Benno had given tough-guy answers, but Tuuli was the one actually making the hairpin. Who knew if she was okay.

Lutz answered in a high voice, mimicking Tuuli. “Gosh, Myne, this is way too sudden! You dumb, dumb dummy!”

“Eep. Sorry, Tuuli...”

“She also said she wasn’t gonna let this opportunity go to waste and that you should look forward to her making the best hairpin ever.”

I smiled, imagining her delicately making the best hairpin she could despite being pretty mad about it. My Tuuli really is an angel!

“Lutz, Lutz. Tell Tuuli I love her too.”

“No thanks,” he said, rejecting me immediately. I widened my eyes and asked why, only for him to give a sharp frown. “Everyone thinks Tuuli and I are dating now ’cause we go to the temple together to learn etiquette. I don’t wanna deliver a message like that and add fuel to the fire.”

“What, is Tuuli not good enough for you, Lutz? You should feel lucky just to be with her in other people’s minds. This is Tuuli we’re talking about here, you know?” I said, pursing my lips.

Lutz furrowed his brow and shook his head. “Nuh uh. I don’t want people getting even more jealous of me.”

“Jealous? Does that mean she’s super popular with the boys? I knew it. That’s my Tuuli for you! She must be a total babe by now, I bet. I wanna see her...” I sighed. I hadn’t seen Tuuli or anyone else in my family a single time since waking up.

“You’ll see her when the hairpin’s done, won’t you? Tuuli was saying she wants to deliver it herself and hear what you think. Also, Kamil’s been saying he wants new toys.”

“Guess I’ll have to make some, then! What kind of toys would he want, do you think? He needs new picture books, right? Maybe karuta to help him learn letters? Should we order boards from Ingo? We could try using paper from Illgner.”

Dirk, who had previously been just a toddler waddling around the orphanage, was now just about old enough to go gathering. Kamil had no doubt gotten bigger too while I was asleep.

Lutz grimaced as I excitedly started thinking about fun toys for four-year-olds. “Crap... Did I mess up here? Look, you gotta focus on paper-making and printing first. Don’t get your priorities out of order.”

“Aww. I can’t put Kamil first?”

“No! Of course not!”

“I know, I know. I was just messing around. Mm... Joking like this is nice. It takes me back,” I said with a chuckle, and that was when the feystone in the door of my hidden room started to shine. That meant someone was signaling me from the other side. It was a necessary feature, since the hidden room blocked out knocks and other sounds entirely.

I detached myself from Lutz and straightened my back as Gil moved to open the door. Standing on the other side were Fran, Benno, and Mark.

“Lady Rozemyne, Masters Benno and Mark from the Plantin Company have arrived.”

Um... Why?

Seeing my surprise, Fran lowered his eyes uncomfortably. “In his letter, the High Priest instructed us to summon the Plantin Company at once... so we called for everyone, not just Lutz. My sincere apologies.”

“Oh. I see... Worry not, Fran; you are not at fault.” I gestured for him to stand down before looking up at Benno and Mark. They had gone pale from hearing there was some kind of emergency.

“What the hell happened?! What’s the emergency?!” Benno asked as soon as the door was shut, so worked up that spit was flying from his mouth.

I instinctively hid behind Lutz and answered honestly—I had awoken from a terrible dream after the contracts had been nullified and just wanted to see Lutz.

“You... YOU IDIOT!”

“Gyaaah! Ow, ow, ow!”

Benno dragged me out from behind Lutz, his eyebrows shooting up in anger, and started fiercely grinding his knuckles against my head. “We got called over the day after an audience in the castle for an emergency! We were freakin’ terrified, and, what, it all comes down to you having a bad dream?! Like hell that’s an emergency!” he yelled. He wasn’t holding back at all, and there was nobody here who could stop him.

“I was at the end of my rope!” I protested. “My mana was about to go on a rampage! Even the High Priest thought it was an emergency!”

“Yeah, her eyes were a bit of a weird color when I got here...” Lutz added.

Hearing that, Benno stopped grinding my skull and peered down at me. He pulled on my cheeks in frustration before letting out an exhausted sigh. “Seems like you’ve calmed down at least. Alright. We’re outta here.”

“Wait a moment. Let’s talk for a bit. I can’t just drag you over here first thing in the morning without making it worth your while, can I?”

I gave them a summary of what had been discussed in the archduke’s office following the audience. I reported that I had obtained the right to train the scholars myself so that the Gutenbergs wouldn’t be crushed by their unreasonable demands, which elicited words of gratitude and a wider smile from Mark. Back when Elvira had instructed them to establish a printing workshop right away, trying to negotiate with her had not been easy.

“I was useful, right? I did something helpful, right? Go ahead—praise me!” I ordered, looking as proud as ever. Rather than lavishing me with compliments, however, Benno grimaced and flicked my forehead. “Ow! But why?!”

“Because I can tell you’ll only act crazier if you start getting cocky.”

“Aw! How come you’re so eager to grind your fist on my head when you’re annoyed, but you won’t praise me when I’ve earned it?! Isn’t it weird that I’m suffering for all my hard work?!”

“Aah. Fine, fine.” Benno forcibly patted me on the head with a monotone, “You did good.” It actually hurt a little, since my head was still sensitive from his knuckle-grinding. I puffed out my cheeks and complained, but Lutz just shook his head and gave a relaxed smile.

“You’re complaining and yet you’re still smiling at him. I’m gonna take a guess and say that you actually like this kinda stuff, since you can’t do it with nobles, right?” he pointed out.

I went silent. Lutz was completely right—I felt so much nostalgia for these kinds of exchanges and was simply happy to be enjoying them again. Benno and Mark shook their heads with exasperation as I grinned.

“Anyway, about the scholars—how’re you going to train them?” Benno asked.

“I need them to be capable of speaking to commoners on some level, but almost none of the nobles I know can be trusted with this work. Do you know anyone who might be more reliable?” I asked.

Benno and Lutz both immediately suggested Justus. He was a fast worker and, unlike the archnobles in Haldenzel, had actually cared to ask the Plantin Company for their thoughts. He had kept things going without issue while I was asleep.

“Justus serves as a scholar for Ferdinand, and Ferdinand won’t lend him to me,” I complained, bemoaning my truly unfortunate circumstances. But as I was considering whether I should ask again, Mark raised a hand.

“I believe the guildmaster is more familiar with considering and understanding nobles than we are. His recommendations will also likely hold more weight than ours, considering that our rapid growth has earned us much ire.”

“Planning to dump the hard work on the old geezer, huh?” Benno said with a grin.

“He is simply the best man for the job,” Mark replied casually, wearing his usual smile.

“Okay. In that case, try asking the guildmaster to put together a list of candidates for me. I’ll consult the archduke about who among them is best to use,” I said. “Also, this is Mother’s suggestion, but what about using the officials supporting giebes for this? They’re familiar with the lives of commoners, and she said they would wholly dedicate themselves to their work if doing so meant enriching their land. How were they in Haldenzel?”

I hadn’t been to Haldenzel yet, but both Lutz and Benno had been there with the other Gutenbergs; they surely knew how these officials had performed.

“Only Master Benno and Damian met Giebe Haldenzel,” Lutz said. “I was given a tour of the city by a servant with the others—maybe he was a scholar? The commoners and nobles there actually seemed to interact a little.”

“If we go for mednobles instead of archnobles, it might work...” I mused aloud. “Or, no, maybe laynobles are best.”

Back in Illgner, the lack of nobles working as officials had resulted in Giebe Illgner needing to visit the paper-making workshop himself to check up on progress. They had been given a lot of control in Illgner, but the same wouldn’t be the case for Haldenzel.

“The province is totally frozen over; people struggle to live if the blessings go down even a little, so they’ve ended up clumping together to survive. They’re harsh to outsiders and not very open to new ideas... but once they started getting a bit more receptive, things got going real fast.”

It had apparently taken them a long time to accept the new work and way of doing things. That was their provincial culture, which was fair enough, but it had been a real pain when it came to actually getting things done.

“And we’ll probably be building those paper-making workshops in Haldenzel come spring...” Lutz said, crossing his arms in thought.

“What’s wrong?” I asked.

“There are way fewer trees in Haldenzel than Illgner, and I dunno whether the types they have are gonna be any good to make paper with. I get why they want paper-making workshops, but I feel they’re better off just buying their paper from elsewhere once we have more workshops set up north of Ehrenfest. Also, we should build the workshops as far south in Haldenzel as we can. Could you make these suggestions for us?”

“Sure. You can count on me. Also, Benno—about the Gutenbergs’ long-term trip...”

We went on to discuss everything from the printing industry to our families, from important matters to little nothings. Our conversation continued until, eventually, I was completely relieved.

I saw Lutz and the others off with a smile, and they all smiled back in turn. They had forgiven me, saying that the trip hadn’t been a complete waste of time thanks to my intel. And with that, the Plantin Company was gone.