Ascendance of a Bookworm (LN) - Volume 5.2 - Chapter SS2

Headache-Inducing Reports (Third Year)

“Aub Ehrenfest. Here is a list of attendants charged with light crimes that warrant fines and nothing more.”

“Put it over there.”

Thanks to the warning and intelligence we had received from Matthias, a student of the former Veronica faction, we had managed to imprison the nobles who had given their names to Georgine. Actually detaining them had proven a real mess according to Bonifatius, who had taken charge of the affair—some had set their estates on fire the moment they saw the Knight’s Order arrive, while others had blown their own heads to pieces to keep their memories from being read.

“I don’t know what they were planning, but it didn’t seem like they were having tea parties or celebrating the start of winter,” Bonifatius said. “All ten or so of them were desperate to hide whatever evidence they could. You know... I think Matthias’s report really saved our hides here.”

Initially, we had intended to wait until after the Lord of Winter hunt to start our purge. Bonifatius maintained that this would have been much too late. Most of our targets had taken their own lives, leaving behind almost no evidence to speak of, but we had imprisoned plenty of criminals outside of Gerlach’s winter estate. Now there was so much cleanup to be done, but we barely had the manpower.

“Karstedt, how will we fare hunting the Lord of Winter?” I asked.

Carrying out the purge first had cost us a lot of rejuvenation potions and offensive magic tools, and decreased the number of knights we had at our disposal. In other words, we would need to attempt the hunt in a severely weakened state.

“The feystones from Rozemyne and mandatory contributions from the imprisoned scholars should make it just barely possible,” he replied, his face dark with exhaustion. He had tirelessly devised a plan to make our hunt a success on top of cleaning up the aftermath of the purge.

It seemed that sending Rozemyne a load of empty feystones after she had mentioned being overwhelmed with mana had paid off tremendously. On top of that, we had ordered some of the scholars charged with lesser crimes to create the offensive magic tools we would need for the hunt. They would repay their fines through labor and mana contributions.

“The high-quality ingredients from the Royal Academy helped too,” Karstedt continued. “It’s going to be close, but it looks like we’ll manage the hunt once again this year.”

“That’s a relief. How about the temple’s Dedication Ritual? Have you heard anything from Cornelius or the other guard knights participating in the training?”

The temple’s religious ceremonies had a very direct impact on the next year’s harvest. We had previously left them to Rozemyne and Ferdinand, but neither of them was here this time. To make things more complicated, the remaining blue priests didn’t have much mana to begin with, and there were fewer of them than ever. The purge having been performed before the Dedication Ritual also meant that the pre-baptism kids had already been sent to live in the temple orphanage.

“I’m told that Hartmut is being fairly proactive, since Rozemyne entrusted everything to him in her absence. Cornelius was grumbling about having been wrapped up in it all.”

According to Karstedt, Rozemyne’s guard knights were being made to imitate blue priests. Ceremonial robes had already been prepared for them.

“When he came to the training grounds, Damuel told me they’re banging their heads against the wall that is teaching Angelica the prayer for the Dedication Ritual,” he continued. “Still, we want them to succeed as soon as possible; Angelica and Cornelius will provide key firepower against the Lord of Winter.”

Ferdinand and Eckhart’s departure meant that Rozemyne’s guard knights were now crucial to the fight. Striking a balance between the ceremonies and the hunt was going to be important.

“Aub Ehrenfest, may I have a moment?” asked Leberecht, one of Florencia’s scholars, as he entered the room with several boards in hand. His red hair, which was similar in color to Karstedt’s and tied firmly behind his head, must have been a Leisegang trademark. His dark-brown eyes were always calm and collected; I couldn’t remember seeing him get emotional even once.

I looked up from my desk. “Ah, Leberecht. Have you all finished going through the reports from the Royal Academy?” Preparing for the purge and everything after it had made me so busy this year that I’d delegated responding to the reports to Florencia. Leberecht was probably here to confirm that they were done, as per usual.

“No, Lady Florencia fainted while reading them,” he replied. “Can I ask you to handle this batch, Aub Ehrenfest?”

“What?! Is she okay?!” I demanded, standing up on instinct after hearing his dry announcement. This wasn’t the time to be reading reports from the Royal Academy; I was way more concerned about Florencia’s health.

In stark contrast to my surge of emotion, Leberecht indicated that I should sit back down without even twitching his eyebrow. “Lady Florencia has stepped away from her work and returned to her room,” he said. “A doctor is currently seeing to her, but the diagnosis will not come just yet. I should also note that going to see Lady Florencia will not do anything to improve her condition; her health is best left to the doctor and her attendants, so I would ask that you instead resume your seat and complete her workload for today.”

“Ngh...”

“As her scholar, I am likewise unable to do much for her while she is ill. May I ask permission to assist you as you go through the reports?”

The purge had cost me some of the people who usually worked in my office, so having Leberecht’s help was greatly appreciated. I started distributing work to Florencia’s scholars.

“And now—here,” Leberecht said. “The reports from the Royal Academy.”

“From what I remember of yesterday’s report, Rozemyne went on a rampage after getting annoyed during some tea parties and decided to hold a Dedication Ritual in the Royal Academy. She received a summons from the royal family and intended to request permission to use their shrine. Gah... I’ve yet to even read these, but I can already feel my head aching.”

I wanted nothing more than to bin these reports and save myself the anguish, but they surely described Rozemyne’s meeting with the royal family. Leaving them unread wasn’t an option, so I accepted them from Leberecht.

“My hope is that the royal family refused to let her use the shrine and that was that, but given what happened with Florencia, I’m guessing they gave her permission.”

“Indeed. The situation has taken an unexpected turn.”

Having no other choice, I started reading the reports. The first was fairly normal: Dunkelfelger’s students had trained enough that they could now obtain blessings on their own, and, at their request, a strict delineation was being made between the joint researchers and their helpers.

“They’re letting us use the shrine hall so long as we bring the ceremonial tools we need from Ehrenfest. Once the temple’s Dedication Ritual is over, please send Wilfried’s, Charlotte’s, and my ceremonial robes, alongside the other things we’ll need, including offerings and the like. If you ask Hartmut, he should take care of everything right away. From Rozemyne.”

I reread the report a few times and then muttered, “You know, this isn’t too bad.”

His interest now piqued, Karstedt gave the board a look as well. “It’ll take us a while to send over everything she’s asking for, but the royal family are letting them use the hall, and apparently for free. Pretty forgivable.”

“Yep. This is much better than we expected—neither the royal family nor the Sovereign temple is causing any problems. I don’t even feel the urge to grab my head and slam it against the table, which is rare after reading one of these reports.”

But as we started to relax, Leberecht flipped over the board and said, “Hubris is a slow and insidious killer, Aub Ehrenfest.” There was text on the back as well.

“PS: I’ve invited the royal family to join us for the Dedication Ritual. Their presence should help to keep the participants in line, plus I want the royal family to experience a real religious ceremony. Their jobs should get a little easier if they can earn some more divine protections. Prince Anastasius said that he would consider it.”

Wait, wait, wait! Didn’t we explicitly tell her not to get involved with royalty?!

I put a desperate hand on my forehead; I’d spoken too soon. We’d anticipated that the royal family might add a problematic condition to using the shrine, but not that Rozemyne would willingly involve herself with them.

“And she did it out of goodwill...?” I muttered.

“She does say that ‘their jobs should get a little easier,’” Leberecht replied. “She must have acted out of pure kindness while thinking it was actually beneficial for everyone, much like how she saved the children of criminals partially with the future of our duchy in mind.”

I groaned a little. His analysis was harsh, if you thought about it, but he wasn’t wrong. I’d accepted Rozemyne’s proposal to save the children for the sake of Ehrenfest’s future, considering how our population had taken a hit after the purge, but the Leisegangs found that hard to swallow—after all, the former Veronica faction had put them through so much misery and for so long.

“Lady Rozemyne seems to believe these agreements are mutually beneficial,” Leberecht went on, “but does she not pay any mind to the impact they have on everyone else? This may help us and those of the royal family, but what will the children of other duchies think?”

“To be honest, what happens to the royal family is no concern of Ehrenfest’s. All they ever do is push us in unwanted directions.”

I remembered Ferdinand saying that whenever Rozemyne became involved with someone, she couldn’t help but invest herself in their well-being. Evidently, she was now close enough to the royal family for this to apply. She was in too deep.

“Well, what is there to do...?” I pondered.

“As the royal family is now involved in this joint research, we cannot cancel it on our own. We should summon Hartmut for the time being. Only he will be able to confirm whether we can send the necessary implements for the Dedication Ritual to the Royal Academy, and how long it will be before that can be done.”

I nodded and then sent Hartmut a summons. Once the ordonnanz disappeared from sight, I started reading the reports from the other kids.

“Professor Gundolf scolded us, saying that we Ehrenfest students have no new, interesting ideas. He is indirectly telling us to involve Lady Rozemyne. From Marianne.”

“I made several suggestions, but Drewanchel improved on them and came up with better things. It feels like the results of our research are being taken away from us. From Ignaz.”

Rozemyne’s reports were all about the joint research Ehrenfest was doing with Dunkelfelger, whereas those from Wilfried’s and Charlotte’s apprentice scholars only discussed our joint research with Drewanchel. It was easy to guess where each person’s interests lay.

“Seems like the joint research with Drewanchel isn’t going so well,” I said.

“There is no helping that, as research requires a variety of skills not measured through written classes: imagination, speed in producing results, a keen eye for what information to conceal and what to give others, and so on. Our apprentice scholars may have finally begun to earn worthwhile grades in their written lessons, but this is still a heavy weight for them to carry.”

Leberecht had dismissed their shortcomings as inevitable, but Karstedt gave a more sympathetic look and crossed his arms. “If the burden’s too much for them, don’t they need advice more than anyone?” he asked. “Drewanchel wanted to collaborate with Rozemyne specifically from the very beginning. How about the scholars ask her for some good ideas? She’s bound to have some.”

“I’m not so sure,” I replied. “They may need advice, but we want that gremlin involved with as little as possible; otherwise, she’ll cause problems in Drewanchel as well as Dunkelfelger. Have the scholars think on their own for a bit. This is an opportunity for them to get some important experience.”

I could tell from the scholars’ reports that they didn’t want to rely on Rozemyne—that they wanted to advance this research themselves. They were eager to make these accomplishments their own precisely because this duty had been placed in their hands.

“Oh? Do you not mind if our duchy’s joint research with Drewanchel fails?” Leberecht asked.

“This is a matter between students, and Rozemyne said we couldn’t have refused Drewanchel even if we’d wanted to. No matter how poorly things might go on our end, Ehrenfest will be none the worse for it. This is a valuable opportunity for them to learn from their mistakes. Trial and error, people.”

After a moment spent in thought, Leberecht said, “Then that shall be our reply.” I decided to leave the writing to him, and it was then that I noticed a letter among the boards.

“What’s this?” I asked.

“A letter to Hartmut from his Dunkelfelger fiancée. It arrived with the reports. I thought it best that you read through it, considering that it has come from another duchy.”

During more normal circumstances, personal letters would be sent directly to their intended recipient, but the purge and such had spurred us to read all messages coming in from the Royal Academy. Personally, I felt a little bad about reading someone’s private correspondence, but it was my duty as the archduke. Even though I doubted that Hartmut’s fiancée was in bed with Ahrensbach, I needed to know for sure.

“Aaaaah! Never in all my life have I been more grateful for this serendipitous meeting ordained by Ewigeliebe’s harsh judgment! Her hair, blessed by the God of Darkness to be as alluring as the night sky, danced through the air with power overflowing. Her golden eyes sparkled with the Goddess of Light’s blessing as she stared down her foe. Our lady, whose mortal form has received the direct favor of the supreme gods, raised but a single hand, and in it appeared the greatest masterpiece that Vulcanift the God of Smithing ever produced, crackling with blue lightning. Her heroic figure radiated the light of all the summer gods, and into mine eyes was burned the true passion of Angriff the God of War. Or, no, wait—it was not just Angriff.”

You’re the one who should be waiting. What the heck even is this?

At first, I’d assumed that Hartmut’s fiancée was using the traditional flowery template that was often followed when writing to one’s partner-to-be... but that wasn’t true at all. Despite it reading entirely like a love story, her letter did nothing but shower Rozemyne with praise; she didn’t even attempt to compliment Hartmut himself. I tried to skim the rest, but even that became unbearable.

“Uh, Leberecht? Are you sure this is from Hartmut’s fiancée?”

“There is no mistaking it. Clarissa is detailed as the sender.”

As it turned out, Leberecht hadn’t read the letter; he’d checked the recipient and sender and nothing more. Was I the only one who felt the striking contrast between his coldness and Clarissa’s gushing?

“What kind of person is Clarissa?” I asked. “Is she, er... dangerous?”

“I met her during last year’s Interduchy Tournament. She is an archscholar from Dunkelfelger who wants nothing more than to marry into Ehrenfest and serve Lady Rozemyne. Her union to Hartmut is good for the future of our duchy. I must admit, I did not expect my son to become romantically involved in the Royal Academy, considering how cold he can be, but that is another matter.”

I merely blinked in response; Hartmut had never come across as cold to me. As far as I was concerned, he was a loyal retainer of Rozemyne’s whose extraordinary passion seeped through each of his reports.

“Excuse me, Aub Ehrenfest,” came Hartmut’s voice as we continued to examine the letter. “I am here as requested.” He had made his way here immediately after receiving the ordonnanz—and through the blizzard on his highbeast, if the lingering flecks of snow in his hair were anything to go by.

“Sorry to call you over during these busy times,” I said. “Rozemyne wants to know how the orphanage is holding up. I assume that, like the Lord of Winter hunt, a lot of your plans have been disrupted.”

The kids sent to the orphanage had been raised as nobles, and, children or not, they were presumably showing a lot of resistance. It wasn’t hard to imagine the youngest of them crying for their parents.

Hartmut smiled. “You may rest easy. Under my watch, no problems will occur in the orphanage. As we speak, everyone there is living in peace, without exception.”

“Alright. That’s good to know. Pre-baptism kids can’t be counted as nobles, but the more that survive this, the better.” It felt as though the entire duchy had been thrown into chaos, so I was relieved to hear that at least somewhere was peaceful—even if that somewhere was under Hartmut’s strict watch.

“Hartmut, here’s why I summoned you,” I said, handing over one of the boards. “This is from Rozemyne. She wants you to prepare for religious ceremonies.” I then gave him the letter. “And this is from your fiancée Clarissa.”

Hartmut began reading the board without a moment’s hesitation. His bright orange eyes grew wider and wider, and his hands started to tremble as he muttered, “This can’t be. Lady Rozemyne is performing the Dedication Ritual in the Royal Academy...? I cannot believe it. Why, oh why did I have to graduate last year?! To think I am unable to watch her ceremony with my own eyes... I am a failure of a retainer!”

That reminded me—the last report Hartmut had seen was from three days ago. So much had changed since then, it was no surprise that he was so taken aback.

“I would only say that if you’re unable to complete the preparations in time,” I said. “More importantly, when is the temple’s ritual due to finish? We need to send Rozemyne a reply. Think you’ll be able to give her what she needs?”

“Lady Rozemyne wills it, so I shall ensure that the temple’s Dedication Ritual finishes promptly. All of the required tools will be prepared, and I will deliver them to the Royal Academy myself.”

He was as skilled as ever—or at least as fanatic about Rozemyne. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught Leberecht wearing a look of exasperation.

“Contain yourself, Hartmut,” he said. “Lady Rozemyne has not summoned you; she has asked only for the necessary tools and robes. This intense attitude of yours ill befits a retainer serving the archducal family. Pray tell, where do you think you are? Stand down and cool your head.”

He then turned to me with a sour expression and continued, “My apologies. He is the youngest of my sons, so I was too lenient while raising him.”

“I think his obsessive loyalty is more to blame. You seem surprised, but Hartmut always acts like this when Rozemyne is involved. Did you not know?”

“My wife informed me that a lot has changed over the past few years, but I did not realize he had become this foolish. There is nothing wrong with being invested in one’s lord or lady, but it pains me to see him lose control.” He sighed once, then returned to his usual flat expression. From that point on, he took great pains not to look at his son.

Meanwhile, Hartmut only had eyes for the correspondence I’d given him. He looked between the board and Clarissa’s letter, thinking something over pretty seriously. The father and son who made no effort to look at one another caused the air in my office to become kind of sharp.

“Hartmut, that’s everything I needed you for. We’ll inform Rozemyne that you’ll get her what she needs for the Dedication Ritual,” I said, sending him away. Then I turned to Leberecht. “This is my reply to Rozemyne. You take over the rest. I’ll go check on Florencia.”

“Understood.”

Hartmut really was scarily good. He finished the temple’s Dedication Ritual in no time at all, then started coming to my office on a daily basis. During each visit, he gave a detailed report on how much of the required tools and such had been brought to the castle, while also advising Wilfried’s and Charlotte’s retainers about the ceremonial ornaments to be worn during the ritual.

But all that was just an excuse.

“Last year, when Ehrenfest was ordered to bring its bible for inspection, Lord Ferdinand went to the Royal Academy personally as High Priest to manage the temple’s belongings. With so many temple goods now being requested for the Dedication Ritual, is it not clear that another such manager will be needed? As the High Priest, that is my duty.”

Hartmut was an adult, meaning I would need to get the royal family’s permission for him to visit the Royal Academy. I’d been refusing him, trying to save myself the trouble, but it was hard to argue when he was using Ferdinand as a precedent.

“The cultural perspective on religious ceremonies has been on the verge of shifting since Lady Rozemyne obtained so many divine protections in her practical lessons,” he continued. “The pillar of light that formed when she mimicked Dunkelfelger’s ritual with Leidenschaft’s spear is similarly informing the masses of the importance of divine instruments and rituals. If we are to produce the instruments once again, then we must have the proper authorities overseeing them. I intend to accept all of this responsibility as the High Priest.”

Hartmut’s nonstop offensive was really wearing me down. I was impressed that Rozemyne was still able to tolerate the guy; she definitely had more patience than me.

“Not to mention, there is much that reports alone do not convey,” Hartmut continued. “Should we not be using every opportunity to visit the Royal Academy and gather intelligence ourselves? By bringing the necessary tools and participating in the Dedication Ritual as High Priest, I will even have an opportunity to speak with the royal family.”

I guess the royal family letting Hartmut into the Royal Academy can only benefit us.

It wouldn’t cause me any problems, at least—and any time he spent in the Royal Academy was time not spent being a pain in my neck. Still, I was so very tired of putting up with his daily appeals that I shooed him away, saying that I would ask the royal family for their permission. Everything else was up to them.

“The royal family has permitted Hartmut to enter the Royal Academy, but they have several conditions,” Leberecht announced, the relevant board in hand. But that was the least important part of his message.

“Hold on!” I cried. “Did you say a moment ago that the king is participating in the Dedication Ritual?! Why?! I thought it was just Prince Anastasius!” Yes, Rozemyne had said that it was best for the royal family to experience rituals, but who would have expected this? Nobody!

Give me a break...

“It certainly is unprecedented for the Zent to participate in the joint research of students.”

“I wish I could forget ever having read this. Is there not some way we can cancel the project entirely...?”

“This is all a surprise, to be sure, but now we have even less of an out,” Leberecht replied as dryly as ever. At a time like this, Karstedt would normally be sharing in my torment... but without him here, there was nowhere for my emotions to go.

“Gah... I never thought I’d envy Karstedt having to go hunt the Lord of Winter.”

I wished that I was in his place, far away from these reports. Being in the heat of battle was sure to be less of a headache than dealing with all this.

“The Zent is joining the ritual,” I grumbled. “The Zent. Something is going to happen there, without a doubt.”

“Indeed...”

Not being able to touch the Royal Academy was maddening. Why were adult royals getting so involved when adults weren’t supposed to interfere? And what had been the point of ordering Rozemyne not to engage with the royal family...?

No matter how much I thought about it, there was nothing Ehrenfest could do. Our only option was to see Hartmut off and beg him to keep anything bad from happening.

“An update on the Dedication Ritual has arrived, Aub Ehrenfest. This one is from Hartmut. He wishes to report to you personally and has thus requested some of your time tomorrow.”

I’d heard that Hartmut had returned right before sixth bell and intended to spend the rest of the day getting everything back to the temple. That was his responsibility, so I didn’t mind having to wait a while longer for his account of events. The fact that he hadn’t come to me right away likely meant that nothing serious had occurred, so I picked up his report for today without feeling too worried.

About eighty percent of the report described Rozemyne’s divinity as she performed the ritual, and how her holiness had been proven to many duchies at once. Ten percent was a list of which duchies had been blocked by Schutzaria’s shield and the dangers they posed. The rest described how the royal family had thanked us, as well as Hartmut’s own frustrations about being unable to accompany Rozemyne to the library.

“Leberecht... are there any other reports?” I asked. “This one mentions Schutzaria’s shield being set up in front of the Royal Academy’s shrine, but I don’t see an explanation as to why.”

He handed me a new board, which I then looked over. It was from Ignaz, one of Wilfried’s apprentice scholars.

“The Dedication Ritual was a success. Rozemyne made it so that neither the Sovereign Knight’s Order nor the archduke candidates’ guard knights were permitted to attend, but we were able to ease everyone’s concerns using Schutzaria’s shield. From Ignaz.”

They used Schutzaria’s shield to get rid of the Sovereign Knight’s Order and the apprentice knights?!

The report implied that everything was fine, since everyone had understood their reasoning in the end, but I wasn’t so convinced. I could feel an unpleasant pang in my stomach as I picked up a report from Charlotte.

“Rozemyne made two divine instruments from her schtappe. I saw it with my own eyes and still struggle to believe it. Uncle can do it as well, apparently. Is this normal...? I feel as though my sister is misunderstanding something. Also, light shoots up into the sky whenever religious ceremonies are performed in the Royal Academy. It happens for Dunkelfelger as well. If these ceremonies become more commonplace, then perhaps Rozemyne’s abnormality will not stand out as much. From Charlotte.”

WHAT IS HAPPENING OVER THERE?!

Not even Hartmut’s report had mentioned Rozemyne using two divine instruments at once. Maybe only Charlotte had noticed—or maybe it really was normal to Rozemyne’s cohort. I couldn’t determine the truth on my own, so I turned to the next report. It was from one of Charlotte’s apprentice scholars.

“The Zent expressed his gratitude to us; now, we can say with all certainty that every duchy has its eyes on our research with Dunkelfelger. I will do my best to ensure that our work with Drewanchel is not seen as lesser by comparison. If you can provide an update on our research with Ahrensbach then please do; we have been unable to find out much about it. From Marianne.”

It wasn’t hard to see that Marianne’s competitive spirit was ablaze. She knew that their work with Drewanchel couldn’t compare to the research being done with Dunkelfelger, so she wanted to know how things were going with Ahrensbach. Unfortunately, I didn’t really know myself.

“As much as I’d like to help her, that research is about making magic tools more efficient,” I said. “All I know is that the Ahrensbach apprentice scholar is taking care of the schematics while Rozemyne is doing the actual brewing.”

The research was more of a personal matter between Raimund and Rozemyne than a duchy-wide collaboration, so we didn’t get many reports about it. The schematics and prototypes would be presented during the Interduchy Tournament. It was possible that Ferdinand had seen them already.

“Is it truly okay for you to be so in the dark about this joint research, Aub Ehrenfest?”

“I’m not leading it; Ferdinand is. And with him keeping an eye on things, there shouldn’t be any problems to speak of.”

I thought back to my half-brother, who was always agonizing over how to contain Rozemyne. I could guess that he, too, was sitting with his head in his hands right now. It was actually pretty nice to think that he was suffering alongside us—that we could share this connection even when we were so far apart.

“I will say as much to Marianne,” Leberecht said, then handed me another board. “Now, here is a report from Lady Rozemyne.”

“We got to use the mana left over from the Dedication Ritual to help the Royal Academy library. The magic tool that might as well be its foundation was just about to run out of mana, so we got there just in time. I made sure to fill it well, so the library should be safe for some time now. From Rozemyne.”

My face clouded over. Karstedt had since returned from hunting the Lord of Winter, so I said without even looking up from the board, “Tell me, Karstedt... is this supposed to be a report on the Dedication Ritual...?”

Karstedt read the board over my shoulder and then said with a frown, “She mentions the leftover mana, so... yes, I’d assume so.” As always, Rozemyne was off in a world of her own. Her report about the Dedication Ritual was almost entirely devoted to the library for some reason.

“Surely there are more important things for you to write about, Rozemyne!”

“I support your position, Aub Ehrenfest,” Leberecht interjected, “but a collective analysis of the reports we have received confirms that the ritual ended safely without any rebukes from the royal family. We can expect no major incidents in the lead-up to the Interduchy Tournament.”

Karstedt and I glanced at one another; he shrugged and shook his head, to which I nodded. The Dedication Ritual might have ended without incident, sure...

But, well...

I sighed, then gave Leberecht a look of complete seriousness. “If you truly believe that, Leberecht, then you don’t yet understand Rozemyne. Of course she’s going to cause more major incidents before the Interduchy Tournament.”

I was sure of that much—but I could never have guessed that someone would challenge Rozemyne to a game of ditter, hoping to secure her hand in marriage when she was already engaged. As the old adage went, for as long as Rozemyne was in the Academy, headache-inducing reports were inevitable.