Ascendance of a Bookworm (LN) - Volume 4.7 - Chapter 11

Roderick’s Name-Swearing

I wrote a report to Ehrenfest about the tea party with Drewanchel, which had been my greatest obstacle. My guardians had told me to write as though I were doing it for a job, so I was working my hardest to do just that, hoping to prove that I was able to do these things when I really put my mind to it.

I put down the date on which the tea party had taken place, a list of who had participated, the sweets people had decided to bring, and what others thought of them. I also made sure to detail every topic of conversation that had come up, things that were likely to be mentioned during the Interduchy Tournament and the Archduke Conference, and potential ways to deal with them.

“That should satisfy Ferdinand,” I said when I was finished, rather pleased with the outcome. I looked over the surprisingly thick stack of papers and spun my tired arm, enjoying the gratification of a job well done.

Seeing that my pen was still, Brunhilde came over with a letter in hand and said, “Lady Rozemyne, may I send this to Prince Hildebrand?” I accepted it and read its contents—it was asking how we should go about delivering his armband.

After checking to make sure the letter didn’t contain any errors, I gave it back to Brunhilde. “Yes. You may send it.”

“Understood. I shall do that now, then.”

Once Brunhilde had gone, I asked Lieseleta to send my report to Ehrenfest and then turned to Rihyarda. “Please fetch me our book from Gilessenmeyer,” I said to her. “I wish to read now that I have finished my report.”

I was sure I had completed everything I needed to do, but Rihyarda refused with a look of exasperation. “Do you not remember that everyone is busy preparing for the Interduchy Tournament, milady? As an archduke candidate, you must observe them and keep abreast of their progress at all times.”

“Am I going to be attending this year...?”

“Ferdinand mentioned something to that effect, so unless something quite disastrous happens, I imagine so.”

And so, I went to the common room at Rihyarda’s firm prompting. These preparations would have seemed meaningless to me under any other circumstances, but since I was actually going to be attending the tournament this year, I wanted to take in the festive mood.

In the common room, scholars were busy writing clean copies of the stories they had transcribed during the tea party and preparing their research to be presented. The fact that things still seemed a little empty despite that was probably because the knights were all out practicing ditter, except for a select few who were staying behind for guard duty. I could see Wilfried and Charlotte by the bookcase with their attendants, talking about something.

“Wilfried, Charlotte, what are you discussing?” I asked.

“Ah, Rozemyne.” Wilfried glanced down at me. “We’re talking about the Interduchy Tournament. You want in?”

I nodded and took the seat Rihyarda pulled out for me.

“We have three archduke candidates this year,” Wilfried continued, “so we were thinking about dividing the three courses between ourselves and covering one each. What do you think? That’ll make things easier to manage, right?”

I considered the question. If we went down that route, who would be best suited to each course? The answer was obvious.

“Am I right to assume that you’ll cover the knights, I the scholars, and Charlotte the attendants, since she’s gathering experience at tea parties?”

“Yeah. I mean, I don’t really understand the scholarly research that’s going to be published, and you keep talking about how you’ll be taking the scholar course next year, so I figure you’re better off managing all that.”

“I suppose. We’ve added research on prayers this year, and given the likelihood that Professor Hirschur is going to come, it makes sense that I should oversee things.” Ferdinand had given me several stacks of documents to distract Hirschur with—although whether I’d actually manage to use them effectively was another matter entirely. “I can entrust most of this to my retainer Hartmut, who was an honor student last year and is now in his final year of the scholar course, but what about you, Charlotte? Are you going to manage? Many of our visitors will be from top-ranking duchies.”

“Just like last year, we can have the apprentice knights start helping once they’ve returned from ditter,” Wilfried replied, answering in her stead. “Mother and Father are going to be there too, so all in all, things could be worse.”

I was aware that my socializing skills left much to be desired, so if putting that burden on someone else was an option, I was more than willing.

Once we had finished talking about the Interduchy Tournament, my hands immediately strayed to the bookcase—and it was then that I suddenly remembered my promise to let Ortwin borrow an Ehrenfest book.

“Wilfried, please lend a copy of Knight Stories to Lord Ortwin, and use this opportunity to begin spreading our duchy’s books among the men as well. For now, we are focusing on our love stories, but we have many knight stories as well, no?”

He nodded in response, but when I added that he should remember to request books in return, he suddenly grimaced. “You’re just saying that because you want more books, aren’t you?”

“Of course not. Our books are expensive, so we must ensure that we have something as insurance,” I replied casually. Charlotte noted that she was already doing the same with her friends, at which point Wilfried finally agreed, despite seeming quite unconvinced.

Never forget the importance of a nice-sounding excuse. Ever.

Brunhilde returned while I was reading in the common room, having finished sending the letter to Hildebrand. “Lady Rozemyne, we have received a response from Lord Arthur—the armband is going to be exchanged through retainers,” she said. “May I handle it?”

Last year, we had simply been able to follow Anastasius’s summons and do as he instructed, but Hildebrand was being made to stay in his room to avoid making contact with students. We had been forced to ask him how he wished to receive the armband, and it seemed that our retainers would now be managing the trade.

“That seems best,” I said. “This job might be too great a burden for Lieseleta.” She was but a mednoble, after all.

“You may count on me.”

After our attendants had exchanged several more letters, the armband was finally delivered safely to Hildebrand. Two days after that, I received an ordonnanz of gratitude. There was nothing special about this; here, instead of signing something to receive a package, one sent a verbal message of confirmation.

“Rozemyne, this is Hildebrand,” the ivory bird said in his voice. “The armband arrived.”

To my surprise, the prince’s words of appreciation soon pivoted into complaints. It seemed that he had wanted to receive the armband directly, but coming to see me naturally wasn’t an option, and he couldn’t show favoritism by inviting a lone student to his room.

“I am saddened to know that I can’t go to the library or see Schwartz and Weiss, even after you went out of your way to make me this armband,” the ordonnanz continued. “Still, you finished your classes very quickly, didn’t you? I’m looking forward to the start of next year.”

Soon enough, the bird turned into a yellow feystone. I couldn’t help but smile; the message had more or less confirmed that Hildebrand intended to wear his matching armband and devote his all to Library Committee work next year.

I tapped the feystone with my schtappe, turning it back into an ivory bird. “I, too, am looking forward to us working together with the Library Committee next year.” I then swung my schtappe, causing the bird to spread its wings, take flight, and soar through the walls as it headed outside.

“Lady Rozemyne! I’ve finished at last!” Roderick exclaimed with a proud smile and a stack of papers in one hand. He had taken his promise to give me a story along with his name very seriously, so I was used to seeing him writing away fervently. Now, however, it seemed that his story was finally complete. My heart pounded with excitement.

“Well done, Roderick.”

“I deserve some praise as well,” Hartmut noted, his eyes narrowed. I chuckled and made sure that his efforts were commended too.

Of course, Roderick had been tasked with more than just writing a story and making a name-swearing feystone; Hartmut had recently started dragging him here and there, since he was due to graduate soon and needed to pass on all the Royal Academy duties appropriate to his status. It must have been hard for Roderick to absorb so much at once, but at the same time, it must have also been a struggle for Hartmut. They had been stuck working together for quite some time.

“It is thanks to your efforts, Hartmut, that Roderick was able to make his name-swearing stone and is going to be capable enough to begin his scholarly work as soon as he becomes my retainer,” I said. “Well done and thank you.”

Hartmut must have been overjoyed to receive my praise, as his expression immediately brightened. He deserved it, of course—Roderick hadn’t known how to make the feystone he required, since an underage student giving their name was almost unheard of, so Hartmut had needed to teach him that too.

“Now then,” I said, “as much as I want to say we should get right to it, I don’t know much about name-swearing. How is it done?” I was unsure whether there was some ritual involved or I just needed to take the feystone, and it seemed that Roderick was in the same boat.

Rihyarda gave a half-smile at neither of us knowing. “Just taking the name-swearing stone would suffice, but you need to prepare too,” she said. Name-swearing was done stealthily and in private between the two involved parties, rather than as part of a large ceremony, and since the feystone involved gave the receiver more or less complete power over its owner’s life, its appearance and where it was intended to be stored were best kept secret. “You will, however, need at least one or two observers present.”

There had apparently been cases where someone declared their intention to give another their name, only to attack them when they were alone. For that reason, there needed to be observers present to protect the one receiving the name.

“Ensure that you select people you can trust, milady. Some might even try to steal the name meant for you.”

“I don’t believe I know anyone who would do something so rotten...”

Rihyarda mentioned that she had observed Justus’s name-swearing. It had come after a long period of refusal from Ferdinand, since he had trusted so few people and feared an assassination attempt.

“And who observed Eckhart’s name-swearing?” I asked.

“Justus. There was nobody Ferdinand trusted more than that man...” Rihyarda said with a conflicted smile. Much like Roderick, Eckhart had given his name while he was still underage, so both his parents had attended as well.

“So, does that mean Roderick’s—”

“They won’t be coming, Lady Rozemyne,” Roderick said flatly. “You should trust those two less than anyone.” I elected not to press for details; his home situation was said to be so bad that Justus thought I would go berserk upon finding out the truth.

“Still, this is problematic,” I said. “Who should I choose to observe? Would you be the safest pick, Rihyarda?” She had observed once before and was already familiar with the name-swearing process, so I was sure she could deal with any problems that came up. But as I was nodding to myself, sure that my mind was made up, Hartmut raised a hand. There was an unmissable intensity in his orange eyes.

“Please do select me, Lady Rozemyne.”

I don’t know... That gleam in your eyes is a little off-putting.

But at the same time, Hartmut had taught Roderick how to make the stone in the first place, and he had done a lot to make this happen. Perhaps he felt like a master watching his student finally grow up, but rather than continuing to speculate, I decided to just ask him what his reason was. He answered immediately and with a casual smile.

“I wish to burn into my memory the precious sight of your first name-swearing.”

That’s such a dumb reason compared to what I was thinking! He doesn’t care about Roderick at all!

“I choose Rihyarda to observe,” I said without a moment’s hesitation. Hartmut staggered back in shock, then his expression turned deathly serious as he began contemplating something.

“I suppose I cannot help being refused,” he eventually muttered. “If participating as an observer is no longer an option, I suppose I will need to give my name as well to see the ceremony.” The scary thing was, I really could imagine him doing it, and allowing him to give his name to me would presumably only end in him becoming even more obsessed than he was already.

“And I choose Hartmut as well,” I quickly added. “Please keep a close eye on him, Rihyarda.”

“As you wish, milady. We shall prepare the room for us at once.”

She, Hartmut, and Roderick went to get everything ready, while I waited in the common room and pouted, annoyed that Hartmut had so easily put me over a barrel. Cornelius spotted me and gave a teasing laugh. “Why not just take Hartmut’s name too and order him to start showing some restraint?” he said. “That would make life a lot easier for you.”

“I would rather not do something like that,” I replied, my cheeks puffed out.

His expression changed to be more serious. “Yes, I know. I imagine that’s precisely why Roderick wishes to offer you his name—and why others do too.” He shot a meaningful glance toward the children of the former Veronica faction, who were waiting with bated breath to see whether Roderick would be treated any differently once the name-swearing was complete.

“Things can hardly be compared to the past,” Cornelius went on. “Those of us attending the Royal Academy aren’t fighting over whether you, Lord Wilfried, or Lady Charlotte will become the next aub. Instead, we’re all working for mutual gain—our grades are rising, and we’re drawing more attention from the other duchies. There’s no denying that our status is suddenly on the rise.”

This change was even more apparent to the students in the years above—or more precisely, those who had started attending before I reworked the winter playroom.

“Lady Charlotte might one day be married into another duchy, but you and Lord Wilfried are engaged,” Cornelius said. “It’s clear to everyone that the Ehrenfest of the future will revolve around the two of you.”

The question was, which one of us should they follow? And what impact would such a decision have on their relationships with their house and parents? The children of the former Veronica faction were mulling over these questions nonstop.

“If we continue to work and spend time together, attitudes may begin to change,” Cornelius continued. “I wish for their futures to be bright as well. We’ll need to stay on guard against them, of course, but I no longer feel that we need to eliminate them completely.”

“Somehow, it sounds like you’ve grown up even more, Cornelius.”

He grimaced. “I wish you would do the same, Lady Rozemyne. Especially when it comes to your obsession with books.”

“I understand completely. I will strive to secure as much reading time as possible, such that my book obsession will only grow stronger.”

“No! That’s the complete opposite of what I meant!” Cornelius shouted, completing our double act just as Rihyarda returned to say that the preparations were all complete.

I went over to and entered the room, leaving my knights to stand guard outside the door. Already inside were Hartmut, who was on my left, and Roderick, who was kneeling in the center.

“Milady, please stand in front of Roderick and wait,” Rihyarda said. I did as instructed, at which point she began shooing everyone else out and shut the door behind me.

Roderick’s brown, almost-orange hair was positioned a bit lower than my eyes, but he was looking up enough that I could see his tense expression and the storm of emotions in his dark-brown eyes. In his hands were the new story he had dedicated so much time and effort to writing and a metal box that most likely contained his name-swearing stone. The box was circular, making it similar in appearance to those used to hold wedding rings, and there was a white feystone attached to the top.

Rihyarda stood next to Hartmut and gave a calming smile. “Now, let’s begin. This shouldn’t be too complicated, and it isn’t a ritual like those for the gods. It’s a personal vow, so you may tell milady your true feelings, Roderick.”

He nodded in response.

After nodding in turn, Rihyarda looked at me. “Once you’ve made sure that Roderick’s name is in the stone and nobody else’s, replace the lid and register your mana. You just need to dye the feystone on the top of the box. Once you’ve done that, nobody else will be able to touch Roderick’s stone.”

I quickly repeated the process in my head, trying to confirm that I understood. Check the name, close the lid, register my mana. Okay. Got it.

It was then that Roderick looked up at me, seeking my confirmation. I gave a nod in response, at which point he inhaled slowly and turned to face the floor. He set the pages and the box in front of him, then crossed his arms over his chest.

“I, Roderick, hereby swear to create stories as Lady Rozemyne’s loyal vassal for the rest of my life. As proof of this, I offer my name alongside a story written by my own hand. May my name be with you always. May my life be yours forever.”

Upon finishing his vow, Roderick reached out to the box he had set on the floor and carefully opened it, revealing the stone inside. He then placed it atop the stack of paper, which he took in both hands and raised slowly into the air. Since he was still on his knees, it only reached eye level for me when it was above his head.

I took the box from the stack of paper. Inside was a transparent, oval-shaped stone of a pretty yellow-red gradient, at the very center of which was Roderick’s name, written in golden flames. The very sight warmed my heart; it was clear that he had exhausted his mana to make it.

I returned the name-swearing stone to the box, replaced the lid, then began pouring mana into the white feystone, as Rihyarda had suggested. The next thing I knew, Roderick was gasping out in pain. He dropped the stack of papers to the floor and keeled over, clutching at his chest.

“Roderick?!”

My eyes opened wide and I stopped touching the feystone, but Rihyarda quietly urged me to continue while holding back Hartmut. “His name is being bound by another’s mana,” she explained. “He’s going to experience a great deal of pain, but only until the sealing is complete. Finish this quickly, for his sake.”

“Understood.”

Just as feystones of living fey creatures would resist being dyed, the mana of others would evidently resist being bound. Rihyarda told me not to draw out his suffering for any longer than was necessary, so I poured my mana in all at once.

“Ngaaah!”

Roderick cried out in pain one more time, and an instant later, the white feystone flashed. Lines brimming with white mana streaked across the box, enveloping it like a thin net, and then the box began to change shape. It grew smaller and smaller, all while the webbing continued to spread, until it had formed a perfect cocoon around the name-swearing stone.

Wait. This looks familiar... Ah, that’s right—I’ve seen Ferdinand with some of these.

I seemed to recall seeing his in the cage hanging from his belt, alongside his feystones and potions. I decided to do the same and put the name-swearing stone in the same metal cage as my highbeast feystone. Once that was done, I extended a hand to Roderick, who was lethargically trying to stand, only for him to look up at me and smile.

“I’m fine now, Lady Rozemyne,” he said, wiping the sweat from his brow and exhaling slowly. The pain seemed to have subsided, as he picked up the stack of papers again, held it out to me, and said, “Please accept this.”

I accepted the papers and started flipping through them.

“It’s a story about an apprentice knight and an apprentice scholar in the Royal Academy who work together to win at treasure-stealing ditter,” Roderick explained. “I tried writing something that wasn’t a knight story or a love story.”

To put it in Earth terms, it was like a young adult story about hot-blooded teens playing sports. I smiled; this was the birth of a new genre in Yurgenschmidt.

“Roderick, I have accepted your name and your story,” I said. “I swear that I’ll strive to be a good lady to you.” And with that, I produced my schtappe and tapped it against his shoulder as he knelt before me, as one would do with a sword to a knight.