Ascendance of a Bookworm (LN) - Volume 5.3 - Chapter 7

Socializing with Royalty

The advertisement I recorded on an absentminded whim had earned me such extreme words of praise from Ferdinand, by complete accident.

VERY good, he said. Eheheheh.

I took a moment to savor my elation, recalling the subtle smile that Ferdinand had given and the feeling of his hand on my head.

“You seem very pleased, Lady Rozemyne,” Hannelore said. She was resting a hand on her cheek and giving me a very strange look.

“Mm-hmm. I received none other than a ‘very good’ from Ferdinand. That is the highest praise possible, which I had received previously only after having everyone in the dormitory pass their written lessons on the first day or after finishing all of my classes as quickly as possible without letting any of my grades drop. I was sure that, after his move to Ahrensbach, I would only ever receive his praise by letter, so this is truly a pleasant surprise.”

I expected to hear a heartwarming “I am so very pleased for you” in response, but both Sieglinde’s and Hannelore’s expressions stiffened.

“Is something the matter?” I asked.

“No, I am just... taken aback by the exceeding harshness of his education...” Sieglinde said with a troubled smile, having struggled to even get the words out. Personally, I wasn’t taken aback at all—frequent exposure had made me well accustomed to what Ferdinand was like. Still, it seemed that his teaching methods weren’t “very good” but rather “very harsh.”

Oh, wait... are they thinking I was abused again?!

“U-Um, his education may come across as harsh, but it really is nothing once you get used to it,” I said. “By the end of our time together, before he moved to Ahrensbach, he was even giving me new books each time I completed a task he gave me. In truth, Ferdinand is a very kind person.”

He’s a bit harsh, but not scary.

But as I tried to paint Ferdinand in the best possible light, Sylvester cackled and waved me away. “Those books were always related to the next task he intended to give you. You’re just about the only person who’s been able to keep up with him, Rozemyne.”

What?! He used to give me a book after I completed a hands-on task and tell me to finish it by the next day—or else I’d receive an extra task to do. I always thought they were rewards, but they were the extra tasks all along?!

I widened my eyes in shock at this revelation, and it was then that I noticed a group of black-capes heading in our direction. Anastasius was leading them, but Eglantine was nowhere to be seen. She probably had work to complete as a professor, which was kind of sad.

“Oh my,” Sieglinde said. “I see the royal family is coming. We have concluded our greetings, so if you will excuse us...” She and Hannelore stood up to make way for our new guests, but Anastasius raised a hand to stop them before they could take their leave.

“Hold,” he said. “I also have words for the first wife of Dunkelfelger.”

Left with no other choice, Sieglinde and Hannelore both sat back down at the circular table, after which Anastasius joined us. He had Sylvester to his right and Sieglinde to his left, while I had Sylvester to my left and Hannelore to my right.

“Rozemyne, my apologies, but can you make that shield of Wind?” Anastasius asked. “We will also be using a sound-blocking magic tool on the immediate area. Everyone, stand down.”

He got his attendants to prepare the magic tool while I formed Schutzaria’s shield. Nobody was forced out, which meant there was no need to worry about anyone harboring any malice or having any bad intentions—but Anastasius still instructed the attendants and guard knights to leave once the tea and sweets had been prepared.

“The guard knights as well?” I confirmed.

“Yes. I expect you can all imagine why.”

He surely wanted to discuss the Sovereign knights who had interfered in our recent ditter game. We had all given proper reports, so Sieglinde and Sylvester understood this as well. They assented, and their retainers stood down.

Once we were alone, Sieglinde was the first to speak. “You are showing quite a lot of caution. What do you wish to discuss?”

Anastasius looked from Sieglinde to Sylvester. “First, I intend to air my grievances about Rozemyne and Hannelore to you two, their guardians. I have warned them countless times, but I see no improvement. It was only through great restraint that I was able to wait until the Interduchy Tournament and did not summon you to the Royal Academy sooner. I saw you all gathered after finishing my discussion with Klassenberg and came at once to seize this perfect opportunity.”

So... this is basically a parent-teacher meeting for two problem children? Oh, that reminds me—there was a summons like this after the ternisbefallen incident. Ferdinand came as my guardian back then instead of Sylvester. How nostalgic.

That had only been last year, but so much had happened since that it felt like ancient history. A wistful smile crept onto my face—but then I noticed that Sylvester, Sieglinde, and Hannelore were all watching Anastasius with very serious expressions. I was reacting to our situation in entirely the wrong way, so I quickly tried to look more solemn.

“As I expect you all know,” Anastasius continued, “Ehrenfest and Dunkelfelger have been causing far too many problems. Although parents are meant to encourage the younger generation’s growth by not interfering in matters of the Royal Academy, I must ask: Can you really do nothing about this? Rozemyne, Hannelore—major problems have occurred every single year since you became students, and each seems greater and more severe than the last.”

He explained that, before Hannelore and I joined the Academy, there hadn’t been any conflict between Ehrenfest and Dunkelfelger, and there certainly hadn’t been any large-scale battles involving the cooperation of numerous duchies. Ehrenfest also hadn’t shot up the rankings out of the blue, so it hadn’t been on such bad terms with the lesser and other middle duchies.

“Prince Anastasius, may I ask something?” I said.

“What is it?” he replied, though his gray eyes were very blatantly telling me not to interrupt.

“Your mention of a newly developed conflict between Ehrenfest and Dunkelfelger—are you referring to our ditter games?”

“What else?”

“I don’t agree that either of us should take the blame for those.”

“Rozemyne, don’t argue with royalty,” Sylvester cut in without a moment’s hesitation, looking well and truly freaked out. But I just shook my head.

“Aub Ehrenfest, whether we are in the presence of the royal family or a greater duchy, we must state our position if we wish to be understood. Staying silent will only breed misconceptions, from which negative rumors will spread. We should clear the air before that can happen, and while it may not be obvious”—I turned my eyes on all those present—“I am being considerate of the people I am speaking with.”

“It certainly doesn’t seem like it!” Sylvester pretty much yelped. “You’re sitting before Dunkelfelger and a member of the royal family!”

“Correct. Prince Anastasius, of all people, should understand the importance of clear communication; after all, it was his reluctance to express his feelings directly that kept Lady Eglantine from truly understanding his heart. And as for Lady Sieglinde, I think our previous conversation outlined the importance of exchanging information ahead of time.”

Sylvester’s and my bases may have been quite different, but I obviously wouldn’t be this frank with just anyone; I was taking care only to speak so frankly to those whom I expected would understand. Of course, there was always a chance I was operating on false principles.

“Rozemyne, even if you have a firm basis for your argument, you should take a moment to consider our duchy’s position in Yurgenschmidt,” Sylvester warned.

“Hm? Prince Anastasius has excluded our retainers specifically because he wants our honest opinions, no?” I gestured to the sound-blocking magic tool and Schutzaria’s shield. “If we were expected to know our places and sit in silence, then he would not have made these preparations.”

Anastasius grimaced as if trying to endure an immense headache, then gave Sylvester a look of pure sympathy. “Aub Ehrenfest—I understand what you must be feeling all too well. However, Rozemyne is correct that I wish to hear your honest opinions. So, Rozemyne... why should we not blame you or Hannelore for the conflict between your duchies?”

“Because neither one of us has ever expressed a desire to play ditter. Isn’t that right, Lady Hannelore?”

Hannelore recoiled upon hearing her name, then nodded over and over again. “Yes. I did not want to play ditter.”

“You recall what happened when I was a first-year, do you not, Prince Anastasius? Lord Lestilaut sought me out because he wished to acquire Schwartz and Weiss for his duchy. Then, it was Professor Rauffen who said we could resolve the matter through ditter, was it not?”

We had played ditter again when I was a second-year, but that was Aub Dunkelfelger’s fault. He had stubbornly maintained that we would need to play against them during the Interduchy Tournament if we wanted the rights to print Dunkelfelger’s history book, which had ultimately resulted in a duel between Ferdinand and Heisshitze. Those printing rights were important to me, so I was glad we’d secured them in the end, but I would have much rather resolved the issue verbally.

And of course, this year, Lestilaut had gotten in my face and demanded that I cancel my engagement—even though it had already received the king’s approval. He had even threatened to use Dunkelfelger’s influence as a top-ranking greater duchy to pressure our aub if we refused.

“If you wish to blame someone, then blame the men of Dunkelfelger for using their position to twist my arm,” I concluded. “Lady Hannelore and I have been helplessly swept along from the very beginning.”

Anastasius gave Sieglinde an indescribable look before turning back to me. “Refuse any such requests next time,” he said weakly.

“I will. In the past, I was following the advice I was given to never defy the top-ranking duchies, but Lady Sieglinde has given me her permission to refuse any further ditter requests. You may rest assured—Ehrenfest will never play again.”

I puffed out my chest and smiled at Sylvester, expecting him to be just as pleased about this development, but he was frozen in place with his hands on his head. It made no sense; we had permission from the royal family to refuse any future ditter games!

“Furthermore,” I continued, still addressing Anastasius, “I wish to put forward a request not just for Ehrenfest but for every low-ranking duchy. Please be more considerate before you allow the training grounds to be used for ditter. If you grant a request without looking into why the match is being held, then some may find themselves unable to refuse. It would be more beneficial for you to consult both duchies before the game rather than just arbitrating and censuring both parties after the fact.”

Dunkelfelger would prepare the location, overenthusiastic as they were, while Rauffen would gleefully receive permission from the royal family as the highest authority in the knight course. At no point in this process did the will of the lower-ranking duchy come up.

Anastasius looked at Sylvester. “Aub Ehrenfest, is Rozemyne correct? Would such consultations really help the lower-ranking duchies?”

“They would. Even if the royal family were to ask for our opinion, the political influence of a top-ranking duchy might prevent us from voicing our true thoughts. We might end up having to accept the challenge either way. But an opportunity to speak with the royal family would make us feel protected—like our opinions are actually being considered.”

“Hm. Then I will consider it,” Anastasius replied with a nod. Hopefully this would reduce the number of people forced to play against their wishes. “Moving on, I am sorry about the Sovereign knights who interrupted your ditter game. They may have been trying to secure Rozemyne for the Zent, but they were not acting on any official orders. Hildebrand did mention wanting to save you from Dunkelfelger’s incessant proposals, and we believe the knights might have mistaken his musings for a royal decree, but that is no excuse; they acted of their own accord and even involved middle and lesser duchies, so they must be punished. Severely.” He sighed. “Still, I can’t fathom what drove them to act so suddenly.”

Apparently, the three main culprits were central figures in the Sovereign Knight’s Order. The king had trusted them more than any of the other knights, so news of their crimes had shocked him most of all.

I exchanged a look with Sylvester, realizing this was the perfect opportunity for us to broach a very important subject. “Prince Anastasius, do you know of a plant called trug?” I asked.

“Rozemyne!” Sylvester’s eyes flitted between Sieglinde and Hannelore. “We can discuss that later.”

I shook my head. “This is our only opportunity. As the Sovereign Knight’s Order can no longer be trusted, who else can we turn to but Dunkelfelger in the event of another major, country-wide incident? Their obsession with ditter may be troublesome, but their strength is unmistakable, and they would allow no other duchy to surpass them.”

Dunkelfelger had sprung into action during last year’s attack, and they now knew how to further enhance their strength with blessings. Revealing our suspicions to them here was sure to work in our favor, especially when it was Sieglinde who would need to clean up after the men and prepare for the future, not the ditter-obsessed aub.

“Aub Ehrenfest can take over from here,” I said. “I admit, I am still not very knowledgeable about trug.” I wasn’t sure how much we could reveal about our duchy’s situation, so I made a reasonable excuse to leave the rest to Sylvester.

“I am unfamiliar with this ‘trug.’ Is it known in Dunkelfelger?” Anastasius asked.

Sieglinde shook her head. “At the very least, its existence is news to me. Can you tell us more about it, Aub Ehrenfest?”

Sylvester stopped clutching his stomach, now conscious that both Sieglinde and Anastasius were looking at him, and met their gaze with eyes full of resolve. “Trug is a very dangerous type of plant. Its leaves can be dried and burned, and the resulting smoke causes hallucinations, obscured memories, and feelings of intoxication. The only telltale sign that trug has been used is the sweet aroma it gives off when burned—and that is exactly what one of our apprentice knights noticed on the culprits when he approached you to say his farewells, Prince Anastasius. We have good reason to believe that a central figure in the Sovereignty is using the plant to their own ends.”

Anastasius and Sieglinde both received this news with wide eyes.

“Aub Ehrenfest, we need an even more detailed explanation!” Anastasius demanded, but Sylvester slowly shook his head.

“We know very little about it ourselves. It was brought to our attention after it was used within Ehrenfest’s borders, during a secret meeting of traitors connected to another duchy, and we witnessed its side effects after trying to read the memories of those we captured. The apprentice knight who detected the scent was initially called to this secret meeting alongside his parents, but he promptly left due to being underage. His recollection of the fireplace being lit—a strange occurrence, as it was summer at the time—and the cloying smell in the air, coupled with the conflicted memories of the traitors, led a scholar to conclude that trug might have been used.”

The scholar in question was over fifty. He had been taught about trug by his herbology professor, who then retired a short while after—before the scholar even graduated.

Sylvester continued, “The professor acknowledged that his students were unlikely to ever encounter the plant, but he still taught them about it as a precautionary measure. Our scholar does not know where it comes from, but he was told that it does not grow in Ehrenfest. That is the extent of our knowledge. If you wish to know more, then you will need to ask an older scholar who took more advanced herbology courses or search through the Sovereignty’s vast collection of documents.”

“I see...” Anastasius replied, then looked at Sylvester with firm eyes. “Aub Ehrenfest. You say these traitors were connected to another duchy. Tell me which one. At this juncture, it is crucial that we know.”

Tensions rose, and several uneasy seconds passed before Sylvester gave his answer.

“They were connected to my older sister Georgine, who exercises power as the first wife of Ahrensbach.”

A heavy silence weighed down on us all until Sylvester spoke again.

“Prince Anastasius, that is everything I can say.”

The prince sighed and said, “I appreciate your cooperation. At this point, Ehrenfest’s contributions are bordering on the innumerable.”

From there, he explained that several critically important magic tools were now operable again thanks to the mana obtained from the recent Dedication Ritual. The royal family had managed to replenish many locations, and over the past few days, the Zent had actually been able to rest for the first time in forever.

“Father is grateful that Ehrenfest cares so greatly about protecting its rituals and Rozemyne herself,” Anastasius noted. “If you so wish, your duchy will reach an even higher position in the duchy rankings next year. Tell me, Aub Ehrenfest... what are your thoughts on that?”

Anastasius’s gray eyes were narrowed in a strict, scrutinizing stare. He was clearly trying to determine whether Sylvester would respond in a manner befitting a proper archduke.

Sylvester returned the prince’s gaze, his dark-green eyes exuding resolve as he said, “I would ask that Ehrenfest move no higher than its current position. Just as Dunkelfelger and the royal family have pointed out before, Ehrenfest does not have enough nobles who can act as members of a top-ranking duchy. There would only be Ferdinand, who dealt with top-ranking duchies while maintaining his distance, as well as Rozemyne, whom he educated, and her retainers.”

An even higher position in the rankings would result in even more dealings with top-ranking duchies—but Ehrenfest was having too much trouble keeping its internal affairs in order to start dedicating manpower to diplomacy.

“Instead,” Sylvester continued, “I ask that you view Ehrenfest’s contributions thus far as making up for the fact we were unable to provide the Zent our aid during the civil war.”

“That... is not a bad suggestion. I will remember your words and pass them on to the Zent.”

And so, a deal was struck: we would forgo an even higher position in the rankings and, in return, Ehrenfest would start being treated equally to the duchies that had won the civil war.

“Now, on another note,” Anastasius said. “This is a request from the royal family as a whole: we wish for Hannelore and Rozemyne to visit the Royal Academy’s library every day throughout the Archduke Conference.” The royal family would need to go to the library themselves during that period, and they wanted our help as keyholders.

“I do not mind,” I replied, “but would it not be best to have Sovereign archscholars take over as keyholders?”

“That was our original intention, but now that we see no reason to suspect either of you of planning a rebellion or other such malicious intentions, we have concluded that the duty is best left in your hands. You will not have any other responsibilities during the Archduke Conference, after all. So, will you accept our request?”

It was possible that members of the Sovereign Knight’s Order were being manipulated with trug—who was to say the same fate wouldn’t befall any scholars they entrusted the keys to? I confidently agreed to offer my assistance.

Hannelore thought for a moment before nodding as well. “There are rituals I wish to investigate further, and, while I do not share Lady Rozemyne’s familiarity with ancient languages, I will gladly do whatever I can to be of use to the royal family.”

Anastasius looked to our guardians next. Sylvester and Sieglinde expressed their agreement in turn.

“Prince Anastasius, I am going to be allowed inside the archive, correct?” I asked eagerly. Nothing was more important to me.

After a careful glance at Sylvester, the prince nodded and said, “Of course. During the Archduke Conference, I will not be the one having to separate you from your books; that burden will instead fall to your guardian.”

I took in a sharp breath. He was very clearly referring to the time I’d refused to leave the archive—and, as my retainers weren’t able to go inside, my antics had inconvenienced not just one but two princes.

Sylvester paled at Anastasius’s remark. “I am told that my foolish daughter troubled you and your elder brother with her book obsession,” he said to the prince. “I apologize profusely for her actions. We will take as much care as we can... but losing one of our Eternal Five, who support the supreme gods, has dealt Ehrenfest a devastating blow. We pray day and night for the wisdom to calm Ewigeliebe’s rampage following the loss of Geduldh.”

“Ah, I see,” Anastasius said, shooting me a bitter look. “It was Ferdinand who held the reins of this gremlin.”

Um, excuse me? What’s that supposed to mean?

I rested a hand on my cheek. Anastasius and Sylvester had reached some sort of understanding using euphemisms that had gone completely over my head.

“In any case,” Anastasius said, “I understand the situation you find yourselves in. Unfortunately, your only option is to struggle through it. The scholars I sent to Ahrensbach reported that your Geduldh has become quite a valuable asset there. Ahrensbach’s scholars are rejoicing that their duchy is finally on the verge of recovery. I would not want to remove Ferdinand now and risk Ahrensbach collapsing.”

Apparently, Yurgenschmidt’s only open country gate was in Ahrensbach’s ocean, and the absence of the Grutrissheit meant that the others had to remain shut. The one open gate couldn’t be closed either, which meant that Ahrensbach was having to manage all international trade.

“Is there some kind of problem with the other country?” I asked.

There was a pause before Anastasius said, “We fear that a conflict may arise with Lanzenave.” That reminded me—Ferdinand had mentioned in one of his letters that a princess of Adalgisa was coming. “Though that may not have much to do with any of you...”

He was right—it wouldn’t have much to do with me or Ehrenfest. Ferdinand, however, was a seed of Adalgisa. He was also in Ahrensbach, which was responsible for the handover. And, as Ferdinand was important to us, we weren’t entirely unrelated to the matter.

“I would disagree,” I said. “Ferdinand is in Ahrensbach, so if something is going on, I must ask that you please tell us. I will save him, no matter what.” But in response to my declaration, Anastasius and Sylvester shouted in perfect unison:

“Your getting involved would absolutely make things worse!”