Ascendance of a Bookworm (LN) - Volume 4.6 - Chapter 9

Dedication Whirling and Ordonnanz Brewing

“We have returned, Lady Rozemyne,” Brunhilde announced. She and Lieseleta had come back from the gathering of attendants while I was reading the knight stories Hartmut had brought me. It was a highly important meeting, during which attendants shared information on events between spring and autumn and discussed their plans moving forward. “This is for you—a letter of invitation from the music professors.”

The music professors’ attendants had evidently been there as well; they had given Brunhilde the letter she was now handing to me. It informed me that our tea party was going to be held three days from now. At first, I was a little confused that the date had been settled without my input, but Brunhilde explained with a troubled smile.

“It is already known to the professors that all of the Ehrenfest second-years have passed, so they assume you have no plans. It seems they grasp our own grades and studies as well. I must develop my skills further so that you may have an opportunity to refuse even professors next time...” she said, her lips pursed in slight vexation.

Ehrenfest had only started receiving invitations from professors last year, so there was no way we could turn them down. Even so, Brunhilde was determined to learn the dance that was Royal Academy politics, so it seemed safe to leave things to her.

“Lady Rozemyne, no other duchy had all of its second-years pass on the first day, so tales of Ehrenfest have become quite popular among the professors and other duchies,” Lieseleta said with a gentle smile. “We have garnered much attention for a variety of reasons. It has become common knowledge that all of our second-years have passed their written lessons, so I expect there to be even more opportunities for you to socialize.”

Brunhilde rested a hand on her cheek. “Will it not be Lady Charlotte who will be socializing more?” she asked. “Invitations will truly start to arrive once socializing season begins, by which point Lady Rozemyne will have returned to Ehrenfest for the Dedication Ritual.”

“In that case, I will need to socialize as much as I can before my departure, for Charlotte’s sake. Such is my duty as her older sister,” I declared.

Lieseleta giggled at my fiery determination. “Lady Rozemyne, little sisters enjoy their older sisters relying on them and recognizing their growth. Please do entrust at least some of the socializing to Lady Charlotte,” she said. Her words reminded me of all the times when Tuuli would praise me and when she had relied on me when she wanted to meet Corinna.

“So an older sister must also praise their little sister and rely on them to encourage their growth...?” I muttered. “Becoming a wonderful older sister is quite the challenge. I just want to be someone she can rely on.”

“Oh my. Well, I am sure you can prove how reliable you are by successfully finishing the tea parties with the professors, who need your presence in particular, and the book-sharing tea party with Dunkelfelger. Ehrenfest has almost never received invitations from professors and top-ranking duchies before.”

I resolved to pour my all into my upcoming tea parties, eager to help Charlotte however I could, and then gathered my attendants and my personal musician Rosina to discuss meeting with the music professors. Sixth bell rang as we were deciding what to bring as gifts and which new songs to choose. Only one laynoble first-year showed up for dinner; the rest were still unable to leave their rooms.

“Lord Wilfried, Lady Rozemyne, we have received replies from Ehrenfest,” Ignaz revealed. He had with him the letters he had received from the knight guarding the teleportation hall. Hartmut took them all, skimmed them, and then gave me only one.

“This one is addressed to you, Lady Rozemyne,” he said. “This one is for you, Cornelius. It is from your mother.”

Cornelius grimaced as he accepted the letter and started reading it. Soon enough, he was staring at the ceiling with his head in his hands; something headache-inducing had clearly occurred. Judging by his expression, Elvira was either instructing him to reveal whom he was escorting, or she had already worked it out through some devilish means.

After a moment, I gazed down at my own letter. It was from Ferdinand—a scathing response to everything contained within our reports, no doubt. But when I read its contents...

“It seems that you do not even know what the word ‘peaceful’ means. Learning it should be your greatest priority.”

...I found there was hardly any berating whatsoever. Instead, there was simply a short list of instructions, telling me to keep my water gun under wraps until the time came when I could show him and to entrust all nonessential socializing matters to Charlotte.

Wha...? There’s no scolding. He didn’t lecture me at all.

I reread the letter over and over, checking repeatedly for a continuation. I had come to expect at least several pages criticizing my behavior, and yet there wasn’t so much as a single harsh line. It made things even scarier.

“Hartmut, did you truly include everything in my report?” I asked. “Did you mention that I tore the canopy of my bed to pieces with my water gun...?”

“Did you receive a scolding?” he replied.

“J-Just a small one...” I said, hugging the letter to my chest so that he couldn’t read it. I was getting more and more concerned.

Have I gone beyond the point of no return? Does he consider me not even worth scolding anymore...?

Ferdinand was the type of person to ignore those he didn’t care about unless they were actively getting in his way. And when they were, he would mercilessly eradicate them.

Oh no. Oh no, no, no! This is way scarier than him getting mad at me! Nooo...

“Was the letter that severe?” Hartmut ventured. “You appear quite unwell.”

“I’m fine,” I replied. “I’m going to do exactly as Ferdinand instructs me!”

I’m going to behave! So please, yell at me, Ferdinand!

That night, my dreams were all about Ferdinand scolding me to death. It must have somewhat relieved my anxieties, as I woke up the next morning feeling refreshed.

As I made my way to the dining hall for breakfast, I saw some of the first-years coming out of their rooms with their Divine Wills absorbed. Charlotte was still nowhere to be seen, but that made sense—archnobles generally needed more time than laynobles.

“Earthday alone wasn’t enough for me either,” Wilfried noted. “I needed to wait until noon on Waterday, so I expect she’ll come down at lunchtime.”

I nodded and then glanced at the staircase leading up to Charlotte’s room. “We have whirling practice this afternoon. Is she going to be okay?”

“Of course,” he assured me. “The most important thing for first-years is to watch the seniors practice, remember? Practice isn’t that long anyway.”

He had a point—archduke candidates of all years practiced their dedication whirling together, and since the senior students were prioritized, those in their first year spent very little time actually whirling themselves. During my first year, I had spent the entirety of my whirling classes watching Eglantine. Could anyone graduating this year even compare to her wondrous talent? I was a little excited to find out.

Of course, only archduke candidates participated in dedication whirling—others would focus on things like sword dancing or music.

Charlotte had safely absorbed her Divine Will in time to have lunch with us, and now she, Wilfried, and I were headed to the Small Hall. Several archduke candidates had already gathered when we arrived. Everyone was so used to the ways of the Royal Academy by now that they promptly separated into years and started practicing.

“Now then, the older students will demonstrate the fundamentals,” the professor said. “First- and second-years, watch carefully.”

I watched as the fifth- and sixth-years began to whirl, but nobody caught my attention like Eglantine had. The only archduke candidates I could recognize at a glance were Adolphine of Drewanchel and Rudiger of Frenbeltag.

Adolphine was performing as the Goddess of Wind. It was a very appropriate role for Drewanchel, but when I saw Adolphine whirl, I started to wonder whether she should have been playing the Goddess of Light instead. She was certainly more talented than the girl who currently had the part.

Meanwhile, Rudiger was performing as the God of Life. It seemed an odd decision to me, since the two weren’t at all similar in appearance, but it was probably because Rudiger wasn’t skilled enough to overcome the duchy ranking barrier and whirl as the God of Darkness or the God of Fire instead.

The fifth-years were whirling a short distance away from the sixth-years and with very serious expressions. It was during one’s fifth year that the roles for the graduation ceremony were finalized, so they were all working their hardest. Among them were Lestilaut of Dunkelfelger and Detlinde of Ahrensbach, who were aiming for the roles of the God of Darkness and the Goddess of Light, respectively—as expected of archduke candidates from greater duchies.

Lestilaut is a surprisingly good whirler...

His center axis was kept firm and straight; maybe he had trained a lot in Dunkelfelger. Detlinde, on the other hand, seemed... pretty average. Then again, maybe it was wrong of me to compare everyone to Eglantine.

After observing the older students for a bit, the third- and fourth-years began to practice as well. The first- and second-years continued to watch the older students practice until space opened up for them, much like last year.

“Good day to you, Lady Rozemyne, Lady Charlotte.”

“Good day, Lady Adolphine.”

When it came time for us to take a break, Adolphine approached with a smile. It was a move that attracted an unmistakable amount of attention—a sixth-year from a greater duchy had willingly addressed younger students of a mere tenth-ranked duchy. I was frozen to the spot, but Charlotte stepped forward and returned the warm expression.

“You sixth-years certainly are excellent whirlers,” she said. “I found myself enraptured by your dancing.”

“My my. If you continue to work your hardest, Lady Charlotte, this will all seem easy to you come your final year,” Adolphine replied, regarding Charlotte with her amber eyes. “The key is to practice every day.”

It was then that I remembered Charlotte had also been singled out by Adolphine during the fellowship gathering. I stepped forward in an attempt to block her from sight; as her older sister, I needed to protect her.

“Lady Adolphine, I see you are to perform as the Goddess of Wind,” I said. “It occurs to me that this is the perfect role for an archduke candidate of Drewanchel, but given your talent, would you not also be suited to perform as the Goddess of Light?”

“I appreciate your kind words, Lady Rozemyne, but in my heart, the Goddess of Light may be performed only by Lady Eglantine. I would not wish to besmirch the honor with my own whirling.”

That was an opinion I could understand completely—Eglantine really was perfect for the role. I nodded my agreement, which elicited a refined chuckle from Adolphine.

“How are your plans, Lady Rozemyne? Ehrenfest has displayed such academic excellence, I suppose you will soon be starting to socialize?”

“We have finished our written lessons early, but our practical ones will take us some time. And with Charlotte having been invited as well, I believe it will take a bit longer still,” I replied. The first-years were now working at a more reasonable pace, hoping to achieve and secure the reward for the highest grades, and Charlotte was doing her best to ensure that no unnecessary mistakes were made.

“Practical lessons certainly do take time, no matter how well one might prepare,” Adolphine said. “I similarly intend to finish mine as soon as I am able, but we can hardly work as the younger students do.”

Classes became more difficult with each year one advanced in the Royal Academy, and one received more tasks to complete, so older students began socializing later. Even so, Adolphine assured me that she would still manage to meet with me before I returned to Ehrenfest.

“I am looking forward to our meeting ever so much; there is much we must discuss,” Adolphine concluded with a smile and then departed. Detlinde, Wilfried, and Rudiger came over barely a moment later. It seemed as though they had been waiting for an opportunity.

“Hello, Lady Rozemyne,” Detlinde said with an exceptionally kind smile. “I intend to hold another party among cousins this year, if all stays well. I was hoping to welcome Lady Charlotte into our family here.”

“I would be delighted,” Charlotte responded with an equally radiant smile. “I have not yet had an opportunity to meet with my extended family.”

And so, the tea party among cousins was arranged. Much like last year, it was planned to be held once socializing began, which meant I would be unable to attend once again.

“My apologies, Lady Detlinde. I am expected to be away from the Royal Academy at that time,” I said. I considered suggesting that the tea party be held a little earlier as a result, but before I could, Detlinde brought her eyebrows together in a show of disappointment and gave a heavy, regretful sigh.

“Oh dear. You are going to be absent once again? My disappointment is immeasurable, but your duties at home are quite important. Fret not—I will not force myself upon you. You can still attend, Lady Charlotte, can you not?”

“I-Indeed...” Charlotte replied; then she gave me a questioning look. My role in the temple meant that I was going to be absent during socializing season—everyone knew that, and it was obvious that Detlinde had no intention of changing the date.

I was a little worried for Charlotte, considering that Detlinde was kind of annoying and the sort of person who did spiteful things for seemingly no reason... but apparently Detlinde was just like Veronica in how she cared for her family. She seemed to perceive Charlotte as kin, and with Wilfried in attendance too, there was presumably nothing to worry about.

“Erm, Lady Rozemyne...” came a quiet voice.

“Break time is now over! Students, return to your places!” the professor shouted. Hannelore was drowned out entirely, and she gave a quiet “aw” as we were urged to return to our practice. We exchanged waves and smiles but that was it.

I wish I could have spoken with Hannelore about the Library Committee instead of talking to Detlinde...

It was time for the younger students to practice whirling. I was already somewhat experienced from my lessons in the temple, so in my case, the biggest challenge was trying not to give a serious prayer to the gods. Thankfully enough, I managed to avoid causing a massive scene and ended up passing. The professor praised my technique, but it was really all thanks to Ferdinand and Rosina teaming up to train me on a daily basis.

I spent the next morning studying for my classes next year and working on the item-returning magic circle—with a hint from Hartmut. After lunch, I changed into my brewing clothes and made my way to brewing class.

“Today, you will be learning to brew an ordonnanz,” Hirschur announced. “Nobles use this magic tool more than any other, no matter their status, so you would be wise to prepare many.”

Hirschur displayed the steps necessary to brew an ordonnanz on the white cloth on the wall. Everyone simply copied them down; nobody was surprised this time, since she had used the same tool when we were making our rejuvenation potions. I had never brewed an ordonnanz before, but I personally didn’t need to write out the instructions—they were the same as in Ferdinand’s study guides, which meant I had already transcribed them when organizing our textbooks.

Just as Wilfried and I started preparing to brew, there came an unexpected request from Hirschur: “Lady Rozemyne, demonstrate the process, if you would.”

“Professor Hirschur, I have never brewed an ordonnanz before.”

“Oh, I am sure you’ll be fine,” Hirschur replied, snatching up my ingredients in one swift motion and taking them to the front. I couldn’t brew without them, so I conceded and followed after her. “Now, you may proceed.”

I could feel the other students watching me as I attempted to brew an ordonnanz according to the displayed instructions. First, I turned my schtappe into a pen, drew the required magic circle on some parchment, and then had Hirschur check it for any mistakes. I then cleaned the pot I was going to be using with waschen, added a feystone taken from a feybeast bird of the Wind element, and started stirring it with my stick.

“Ah, it melted...” one student uttered as they stared into my pot. The feystone was breaking down and turning into a yellow gel-like substance.

“Once it has completely melted,” Hirschur said, “add this magic circle.”

I held up my parchment for all to see, as if on cue, and then dropped it into the pot. The parchment melted in an instant, and the circle was burned into the yellow gel. I continued stirring and pouring in my mana—the key was to endure even as your arms grew tired.

Soon enough, the gel started to harden. The clumps stuck to the pot were gradually drawn together until my stirring created a lone clinking sound, and a bright flash signified that the process was complete. Awed noises came from the gathered crowd.

“Would you like to see?” I asked as I took the ordonnanz—which looked entirely like a yellow feystone—out from the pot and placed it where everyone could observe it. It was funny to see the other students edging closer and closer for a better look.

“There are three key factors for success: ensuring the magic circle is correct, adding the magic circle only once the feystone has fully melted, and continuing to pour in one’s mana at a steady pace until the ordonnanz is done,” Hirschur said, speaking very much like a professor.

I returned my schtappe to normal and swiftly cleaned the pot. Only once the students had returned to their seats to try the process for themselves did Hirschur address me again.

“Lady Rozemyne, let me see if your ordonnanz can be properly used. Send it to me.”

I tapped the ordonnanz with my schtappe and said, “Success”; then I sent it on its way. Everything worked as intended—the yellow feystone turned into a white bird, went over to Hirschur, and then repeated my message three times before returning to its original shape.

“Very good,” Hirschur said.

“Do recall that I am not your assistant,” I replied. “What would you have done had my brewing failed?”

I was experienced enough when it came to making rejuvenation potions, but never before had I brewed an ordonnanz. I was fortunate to have succeeded, but if my attempt had ended up being in vain, it would have been a complete waste of time. She could have just done the demonstration herself.

Hirschur raised an eyebrow. “What chance was there of you failing such a beginner brew when you are so skilled in maintaining a steady flow of mana? Furthermore, if you are Ferdinand’s disciple, that more or less makes you my disciple as well, does it not?”

“Um... I do not believe so,” I replied. An outcome like that was far from what I wanted; I certainly had no intention of spending entire nights debating magic tools, nor did I have the stamina for it.

“Not to mention,” she continued, “creating my own ordonnanzes for every class would leave me with far too many. Is it not most logical for my skilled disciple to perform the demonstrations?”

“As I said, I am not—”

“In case you were not aware, I am intending to compile the results of my research into a book, which I shall then give to the library...” she interrupted with a smile.

Wha...? A new book?!

Hirschur’s red lips curved into a grin as my words failed me. It was something of a villainous grin—hardly one you would expect to see on a teacher.

“I have decided that I will show the book to my disciples first,” she added innocuously.

This is like a deal with the devil... I need to think this through carefully. I certainly do want to read this book, but do I need to read it before anyone else? I mean, it can’t be easy being Professor Hirschur’s disciple. Okay. I can resist. I can prove my patience. Stay strong. I need to stay strong.

“Ngh... I-I am not your disciple,” I protested, turning down Hirschur no matter how much it broke my heart doing so.

I... I did it. I refused the devil herself. Someone, praise me!

But the devil would not give up so easily. She looked down at me with surprise and rested a hand on her cheek. “Lady Rozemyne... If you serve as my assistant for the rest of class, I will lend you the book first as a special gift.”

If you need an assistant that much, bring one to begin with... was what I wanted to say, but what actually escaped me was the complete opposite. “I am not your disciple... so I will serve as your assistant only during class.”

And so I spent the rest of class checking magic circles with Hirschur. It was strange—despite not having wanted this in the slightest, something had compelled me to agree.

“Huh. You’re Professor Hirschur’s assistant now?” Wilfried asked me.

“Only for today,” I retorted, pursing my lips with annoyance as I checked the magic circle he had drawn. “This particular sigil is backward. Redraw it.”