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

Epilogue

After the graduation ceremony concluded, students would leave the Royal Academy and return home. This was true for every duchy. Even in Ahrensbach, luggage was being carried to the dormitory’s teleportation hall stack by stack.

“Lady Detlinde,” called Martina, an apprentice attendant. “Everything is ready. Shall we go home?”

Detlinde looked across the common room, her brow furrowed in a very clear show of dissatisfaction. “I am a graduating student, you know. Much like Fatiehe, my intention is to stay here at the Royal Academy until the very last moment. Do recall that my ceremony was cut unfairly short.”

After expending far too much mana during her dedication whirl, Detlinde had been rendered unconscious for two days—and the instant she awoke, she had started angrily ranting about “Lady Rozemyne’s trickery” ruining her precious graduation ceremony. Martina recalled how she and the other retainers had all worked to cheer her up by informing her of the Sovereign High Bishop’s words. “He said you’re closest to being the next Zent!” they had cried. “And naturally so!”

That aside, it was indeed a privilege for graduating students to remain in the dormitory until the very end of the academic year, but few wanted the ever-selfish Detlinde to stay. Her continued presence would compel the other graduating students to be overly considerate, and her retainers from lower years would not be able to return home. Furthermore, with the passing of the archduke, there was much for her to do back in Ahrensbach.

Above all else, nobody wanted her to cause any more trouble at the Royal Academy than she had already.

Her troublemaking affects our grades as attendants, after all.

Martina exchanged a look with her fellow retainers; they needed to think of a way to raise Detlinde’s spirits. Soon enough, Fatiehe herself came forward.

“I understand your desire to stay all too well, Lady Detlinde, but your presence here will make it harder for the first-years to leave. If possible, we would ask that you go back to Ahrensbach for your greetings.”

Martina nodded. “If you are waiting for them, everyone will surely rush to return home.”

Detlinde gave a self-satisfied smile and started toward the teleportation hall. “My, my. I suppose we cannot have the first-years waiting forever in my honor. Very well, then. Professor Fraularm, do take care of matters in my absence.”

Detlinde’s head attendant hurried alongside her, while the other retainers worked together to remove any and all potential distractions.

“That’s our biggest job done,” Martina said, heaving a relieved sigh. They had somehow convinced Detlinde to leave on schedule. Her adult retainers would be awaiting her arrival on the other side of the teleporter, which meant those still at the Royal Academy could get some much-needed rest while their belongings were being packed.

Martina continued, “Fatiehe, you are the same age as Lady Detlinde, correct? Please spend these coming days at your leisure. You also have to speak with your fiancé, I imagine.”

“And you are a fifth-year,” Fatiehe replied, “which means you will get an entire year of peace here at the Royal Academy. I must express some envy.”

“So you say, but you were late to become her retainer and are due to marry into another duchy next spring. I would much prefer that.”

Martina had received an instruction from her father to join Lady Georgine’s faction immediately after her baptism, so she had scarcely had any time to relax. On top of that, since she was favored by Detlinde, the next aub, it would be hard for her to escape to another duchy through marriage.

“Furthermore,” she continued, “Father is already finding me a partner in Ahrensbach. He must consider it our duty as a branch of the archducal family to support the aub.”

“Oh, of course. Your father used to be in the archducal family, correct? In Ahrensbach, as soon as the aub changes, the other archduke candidates are demoted to archnobles—but that did not occur in Werkestock. You would have been an archduke candidate in another duchy. Truly a shame.”

Indeed, Martina had on many occasions tried to imagine being an archducal family member with her own retainers, as opposed to an archnoble required to serve another. But now she rejected that fantasy.

“I do not consider it one,” she said. “My mother is from Frenbeltag. Being in an archducal family might have cost me my life.”

During the purge that followed the civil war, many among the losing duchies’ archducal families had been executed. That was common knowledge. Frenbeltag had lost its archducal couple and the pair due to succeed them, while the child of the third wife—a boy who had never been involved in politics—was assigned to rule instead. Meanwhile, Ahrensbach’s second wife, from Werkestock, was executed. Her two children were spared after much pleading from their archduke, but they were still demoted to archnobles.

“As I understand it,” Fatiehe said, “because of the purge, Lady Georgine’s son Lord Wolfram was the only male archduke candidate remaining in Ahrensbach. I do not know the details, though. I only became a retainer after his sudden passing away, when Lady Detlinde was chosen to be the next aub.”

Fatiehe was an archnoble from Old Werkestock, which was now under Ahrensbach management. During that tumultuous period, nobody had known how their duchy would be treated. Little wonder, then, that she knew so little about Ahrensbach’s circumstances. She had also likely been hesitant about questioning the death of her lady’s older brother.

Martina searched her memories. After the purge, Georgine had collected a force to oppose Ahrensbach’s first wife, with Wolfram at its core. To incorporate the second wife’s faction, she had arranged a marriage between her daughter Alstede and Blasius, one of the second wife’s sons who had been demoted to an archnoble. Their child was to be adopted into the archducal family, as Georgine’s child.

“At the time of my baptism, Lady Georgine did not have much power,” she eventually said. “A middle duchy like Ehrenfest could not provide much support, and many were uncertain about Lord Wolfram becoming the next archduke, even though he was the only male candidate. Once it became clear that the first wife was seeking her own granddaughter’s adoption, the faction divide was inevitable.”

“And you were asked to serve Lady Detlinde in that political climate?” Fatiehe asked, clearly taken aback. “How bold.”

On the contrary. It was a standard noble maneuver.

Martina chuckled. “Father did not recommend me to the aub as a potential retainer for Lady Detlinde; rather, he simply told me to join Lady Georgine’s faction. Make no mistake, though—he made sure he had children in the first wife’s faction too. I was only chosen to support Lady Georgine because, as I mentioned, my mother was from Frenbeltag.”

In truth, there were many reasons why Martina had been sent to Georgine’s faction. One, Georgine’s younger sister had married into Frenbeltag, and her husband had become its aub. Two, Ahrensbach’s first wife was from a winning duchy, which would have made joining her faction more complicated. Three, Martina’s elder sister Aurelia, who had already been sent to Georgine’s faction, had sent back no meaningful intelligence. On top of all that, Martina had been of a good age to become Wolfram’s second wife or Detlinde’s retainer.

“To be honest, I would have appreciated my elder sister being a bit more competent...” Martina said. “She is so bad at obtaining information and interacting with others that she even chose to be a knight rather than a scholar.”

“An understandable decision,” Fatiehe replied. “As I recall, Aurelia rarely spoke, and she always wore such a strict, intimidating expression. I am told she married one of the sons of Ehrenfest’s knight commander. How is she doing?”

Aurelia’s resting expression was certainly cold, and she had very sharp eyes—but anyone who thought she was well suited to becoming a knight was sorely mistaken. Many assumed she was deliberately aloof—even her own father said she was anything but cute—when she was actually a reclusive coward.

Alongside her sister Martina, Aurelia had experienced great animosity as a result of their mother being from a losing duchy. Having a timid personality and an intimidating appearance on top of that had effectively doomed her, which had in turn inspired Martina to always appear bright and bubbly. These efforts to seem more likable had ultimately borne fruit; she was now favored not just by her father but by Georgine and Detlinde as well.

“Lady Georgine incorporated the second wife’s faction into her own,” Martina continued, “but just as everyone began to think Lord Wolfram would be the next aub, he passed away in a sudden, unexpected accident.”

Naturally, all of Ahrensbach had descended into panic. Wolfram’s death had meant that Detlinde was the only remaining archduke candidate; those who had already married into other duchies or been demoted to archnobles could not return. The problem for many was that Detlinde had never received the proper education.

“On top of that, Lady Letizia was taken in from Drewanchel, correct?” Fatiehe asked. “I remember it well. Power seemed to have returned to the first wife, but then everyone roused themselves to support Lady Georgine, who had done so much to save Old Werkestock.”

Around the time that Lady Letizia arrived in Ahrensbach, the first wife abruptly took ill and succumbed to her poor health. Georgine had subsequently taken her place as first wife.

Fatiehe continued, “Lady Georgine really was considerate of Old Werkestock. She also worked tirelessly to ensure those two couples would not be torn apart by interduchy disputes. It was because I was so inspired to repay her that I decided to serve Lady Detlinde.”

“I see,” Martina replied with a thin smile. In Ahrensbach, most believed that Georgine had saved Aurelia’s and Bettina’s marriages charitably and in the name of love. Few realized that the two girls were actually spies sent to gather valuable information about Ehrenfest.

Not that my sister has actually obtained any. She married into the family of Ehrenfest’s knight commander, but even now she is completely useless. Thank goodness for Lady Bettina.

In a problematic turn of events, Aurelia had not sent any intelligence back to Ahrensbach, nor had she formed connections with the nobles whom Georgine suggested. She simply kept to herself. Even when Martina had visited for Detlinde’s engagement ceremony, she had refused a meeting—though it was still uncertain whether that was by her own will or the wills of Ehrenfest’s archduke and knight commander. Not even sending her letters produced any results; Aurelia would speak only of trivial matters such as how well she was being treated.

Just what is she thinking? She is useless no matter where she goes.

Martina was on such good terms with Detlinde that she had been ordered to stay by her side, so she found it hard to gather intelligence on other duchies at the Royal Academy. She had hoped that Aurelia would make up for this in Ehrenfest... but things were not yet going very well.

“So, Martina... why did you choose to serve Lady Detlinde?” Fatiehe asked. “Your father’s orders, I suppose?”

“Lady Georgine arranged it, not my father.”

Martina had joined Georgine’s faction after her baptism, as per her father’s instructions, and immediately began gathering intelligence and treating everyone with the utmost politeness. Georgine soon noticed this. “I find girls who are honest and hardworking to be absolutely delightful,” she had said. “Become an attendant and serve Detlinde.”

Even though my real intention was to become a scholar and serve either Lord Wolfram or Lady Georgine herself.

Still, Martina cast aside her wish and accepted the instruction with a smile, deciding it was the more clever way to live. That very same day, she started training as an attendant under a noble assigned to her by Georgine.

Martina naturally reported the situation to her father, who praised his daughter for putting down such deep roots. As soon as her training began, however, he realized that it was all a devious plan by Georgine to control the flow of information and prevent any complaints from being brought against the situation. Martina’s father soon grew irritated that he was receiving barely any intelligence, bemoaned that his daughter was serving the lowly Detlinde, and even started to curse Georgine’s name, calling her “Ehrenfest’s chamaewarein.”

“I consider Lady Georgine to have excellent politicking skills,” Fatiehe said, then sighed. “I simply wish she had been a bit more strict when educating Lady Detlinde.”

Martina agreed, but she also came to Georgine’s defense. “Lady Georgine’s other children, Lady Alstede and Lord Wolfram, were far more normal as archduke candidates. Lady Detlinde seems to be something of a special case.”

It was Martina’s and the other retainers’ duty to keep Detlinde from falling too far in the eyes of other duchies. They had been expected to prop her up and guide her through her graduation without issue—assignments that Martina thought were a lot harder than simply collecting intelligence.

Martina sighed. “Lady Detlinde could not ask for a better role model than Lady Georgine. How, then, did she end up so incredibly thoughtless? It boggles the mind.”

“In a way, it must be nice living in such stupendous ignorance,” Fatiehe intoned.

Indeed, no matter how much care her retainers took, Detlinde remained an unstoppable force of chaos. Each year, she had managed to cause problems through some unnecessary act or another. Worst of all were all the rude and careless remarks she had made during tea parties, when her attendants were powerless to stop her.

Fatiehe continued, “This year was her big finish—one last punishment for us to endure. Any hope I was clinging to slipped through my fingers like sand, and although it was my own graduation ceremony too, I could not muster even a shred of delight.”

By collapsing during her dedication whirl, Detlinde had brought unprecedented shame upon herself. Her retainers hadn’t spoken a word during the lunch that followed; Ahrensbach’s dining hall had been engulfed in silence. Then, while they were preparing for the afternoon ceremony, an ordonnanz had arrived from the royal family. Ferdinand was to be questioned about his fiancée’s status. It was clear to all that he was going to be thoroughly rebuked.

“Though the Sovereign temple did make things easier,” Martina said. During the afternoon ceremony, the Sovereign High Bishop had announced that the magic circle everyone saw during Detlinde’s whirl was for choosing the next Zent, meaning she was suited to the role.

From there, Ahrensbach’s discussion of the graduation ceremony had shifted to the magic circle and the reveal of there being a future Zent among them. They couldn’t speak about how one of their own archduke candidates had committed a grave and shameful blunder that could never be undone, but they could discuss how, by making the circle appear, she had achieved something that not even the royal family was capable of. Everyone quickly disregarded the report that Ferdinand gave upon his return from speaking with the royal family—that she had actually failed to activate the circle and thus could not be considered a Zent candidate.

“Lord Ferdinand said she will never rule Yurgenschmidt, but that matters little to us,” Martina said. “Ahrensbach was not rebuked by the royal family. Now, we must do everything we can to hide our lady’s shame.”

“Right,” Fatiehe agreed. “The priority is avoiding any further troubles in the Royal Academy. Back in Ahrensbach, away from the discerning eyes of other duchies, we can make any problem disappear. Plus, from now on, the jobs of watching and supporting Lady Detlinde will rest with Lord Ferdinand. Our burden is finally being lifted.”

Martina and Fatiehe giggled together. No matter the circumstances, Detlinde had graduated—and that made them happier than anything.

Mere days after Martina returned from the Royal Academy, Detlinde was summoned to Georgine’s villa. “Mother wishes to discuss my future now that I am a Zent candidate,” she explained.

“Ooh, Lady Georgine finished moving while we were in the Royal Academy?” Martina asked, surprised that she had acted so quickly. “I thought she would stay in the archducal living quarters until you finished dyeing the foundational magic.”

The aub had passed away at the end of autumn, but Detlinde had been too busy at the Royal Academy to dye the foundation with her mana. That was why she was still living in the side building for archduke candidates.

There isn’t a single member of the archducal family in the main building. Is that okay?

“Clear the room,” Georgine instructed, so Martina and the other retainers moved to a waiting area. They crossed several nobles along the way. There were more and more unfamiliar faces wandering the villa, Martina thought.

“Were they Lady Georgine’s new retainers?” she asked.

“One of the men had a magic prosthesis for a left hand,” Fatiehe replied. “Perhaps he is another retainer she invited from Old Werkestock.”

“I could not see his hand from where I was standing—his cloak was in the way—but... a prosthesis, hm? How rare. He must have been grievously wounded and not had time to be healed.”

Knights were no strangers to battle, so it wasn’t uncommon to see one with a magic tool prosthesis in place of a hand or foot, but that man had seemed to be a scholar. It was unusual, but there were many in Old Werkestock who had thrown themselves into violent battles during the civil war. Perhaps he had gotten wrapped up in the purge that followed.

“I’m not sure why Lady Georgine would accept someone who needs a prosthesis...” Martina murmured.

“Oh my. Do you question her will?”

“Not at all. I just feel a bit gloomy about what is coming next and wish to distract myself.”

Everyone exchanged glances and partial smiles. To prevent Detlinde from causing problems in the Royal Academy, so much information had been kept from her—but that could continue no longer. Today’s meeting was presumably so that Georgine could reveal the truth.

Martina could already imagine how upset Detlinde was going to be when she learned she was only a temporary aub and that, after her marriage to Ferdinand, a royal decree would force her to adopt Letizia. And when a noble was extremely frustrated, their attendants were often the easiest targets. Martina could not help but feel depressed about what was to come.

“Speaking of which,” Fatiehe said, “do you recall how overjoyed Lady Detlinde was about becoming the next Zent? Do you believe she will accept being an interim aub in these new circumstances?”

“No matter her response, I can say with all certainty that she will never become the next Zent. Ahrensbach needs an aub, and it is not as if we have the Grutrissheit on hand.”

They had all spent so long elevating her, but that was only to make her easier to deal with; not a single one of them actually believed she could be the next Zent. Weighing more heavily on their minds was the future of their duchy.

Fatiehe sighed. “It is troubling that Ahrensbach has only Lady Detlinde and Lady Letizia as archduke candidates...”

“Yes, but once Lady Detlinde and Lord Ferdinand are married, they will also be able to adopt Lady Benedikta,” Martina said, recalling a discussion she had heard. “That will give us one more.”

Benedikta had been born between Blasius, son of the previous second wife, and Alstede, Georgine’s eldest daughter. She was currently an archnoble, but as the child of two former archduke candidates, she was sure to meet the mana requirements to climb back up in status.

“The original plan was for Lady Georgine and Aub Ahrensbach to adopt Lady Benedikta and introduce her to the archducal family after her baptism as Ferdinand and Detlinde’s daughter—but, of course, the aub then passed away.”

“We need more archduke candidates to stabilize our faction, and Lady Benedikta surely has the necessary mana capacity and upbringing. At the very least, she should be more reliable than Lord Ferdinand, born in Ehrenfest to an unknown mother, or Lady Detlinde, who is... well, Lady Detlinde.”

Georgine and the current Aub Ehrenfest were both descendants of Gabriele, meaning they had plenty of mana, but Ferdinand was a bottom-ranking candidate through and through. Neither Detlinde nor Martina could sense his mana, so he was at the lower end of the archnobles at best.

Martina and Fatiehe giggled again—but this time, an adult retainer who had not gone to the Royal Academy spoke up. “Oh my...” she said, a curious hand on her cheek. “We found Lord Ferdinand to be far more skilled than expected. The scholars were joyously vocal about how much of the backed-up administrative work he burned through.”

“Oh, is that so?” Martina asked.

“Still,” Fatiehe added, “being able to do paperwork is not the same as having an abundance of mana.”

“Hopefully his marriage to Lady Detlinde happens soon so that we have more people available to supply mana. The giebes are all struggling.”

Their innocent conversation continued until the summoning bell chimed, at which point the retainers all leapt to their feet. Martina fearfully entered Georgine’s room, expecting the very worst... but Detlinde actually looked content. Georgine was also wearing a faint smile, suggesting that their conversation had satisfied them both.

“Now then, Mother... If you will excuse me.”

“Indeed. See it done.”

Upon returning to her room, Detlinde immediately gathered her retainers. They could not act without knowing what had been discussed and what their lady intended to do next.

“So, Lady Detlinde... what did you speak about with Lady Georgine?”

“Did you discuss the words of the Sovereign High Bishop?”

After sipping her tea, Detlinde grinned at everyone smugly. Her dark-green eyes shone with pride, and with her chest puffed out, she declared, “I will search for the Grutrissheit so that I might become the next Zent. You will all assist me.”

“Did you receive Lady Georgine’s permission?” Martina asked despite herself, wide-eyed. The answer was obvious—Detlinde had come out of her meeting overflowing with confidence—but still... It was hard to believe that she actually intended to rule Yurgenschmidt.

Detlinde looked at her troubled retainers and nodded. “Of course. Mother fully supports my resolve. She said that I may do my best to obtain what I desire—that while it may seem impossible at first glance, the tools at my disposal will allow me to succeed.”

It was hard to imagine Georgine saying something so irresponsible. Detlinde’s aim to become the next Zent was worrying enough, but what about Ahrensbach’s future? Martina and the other retainers exchanged doubtful glances.

“But if you become the next Zent, who will serve as Ahrensbach’s next aub?” someone asked. “As it stands, you are the only archduke candidate equipped to rule the duchy.”

“Correct,” she replied. “That is why I will only spend a year searching for the Grutrissheit. If my efforts bear no fruit, I will accept becoming the next aub.”

Because the death of an aub was always announced during the Archduke Conference, it was sometimes the case that their replacement didn’t have enough time to finish dyeing their duchy’s foundational magic. Thankfully, Detlinde had been instructed not to mention the late Aub Ahrensbach’s death under any circumstances—and with his exact time of death still unknown to other duchies, it would be easy to delay her assignment by a year without raising suspicion.

Could it be that Lady Georgine set this time limit to ease Lady Detlinde into giving up...?

It was hard to imagine Detlinde finding in one year what had eluded the royal family for almost a decade. In other words, this was a bargain: they simply needed to play along with this “search” for a year, then their lady would accept her job as an archduchess. Thinking about it like that helped to calm Martina down.

Lady Georgine is so talented. She really knows how to keep Lady Detlinde under control.

Martina’s relief was short-lived, however, as Detlinde placed a contemplative finger on her chin and gazed upward. In most cases, this was a sign that she was about to make a suggestion or give an order that would make everyone else’s life much harder. Her retainers knew this from experience and immediately tensed up.

“For this next year, my first priority is to get the public on my side. We shall make allies of all those who want a true Zent in power. And if we obtain the Grutrissheit, King Trauerqual will have no choice but to cede the throne to me.”

To the retainers’ surprise, their lady was actually... making sense. Martina could only assume she was regurgitating advice from her mother—which meant Georgine seriously intended for her daughter to become the next Zent.

Ahrensbach is barely surviving this mana crisis... but rather than chastising Lady Detlinde, Lady Georgine is encouraging her?

All of a sudden, Martina understood nothing of Georgine’s intentions. A growing sense of unease began to take hold until she could no longer stay silent.

“Lady Detlinde, I understand that your focus is to become the next Zent, but what about channeling mana into Ahrensbach’s foundation?”

“I suggested that Mother serve as an interim aub. If my one-year search proved unsuccessful, then I would dye the foundation. She refused, however, as she does not wish to become the archduchess. A shame.”

She seemed disappointed, but it was only natural that Georgine would refuse. Maybe she was reluctant to doubt her own mother, but the truth was that not a single Ahrensbach noble would support someone from Ehrenfest becoming the aub—interim or otherwise—when there were still other avenues to explore.

“So,” Detlinde continued, “we have but one option: we shall supply the foundation from the Mana Replenishment hall to avoid dyeing it completely. Letizia will aid us as well.”

“You intend to have a child who has not even joined the Royal Academy help with Mana Replenishment?” All eyes widened at the very thought. Surely it was too great a burden for someone so small.

“In Ehrenfest, archduke candidates start performing Mana Replenishment right after being baptized. It helps them control their mana. They can manage it, so I’m sure she can too.” She made sure to punctuate her callous remark with an exceptionally cold glare in the direction of Letizia’s room. Before, she had been too cocksure to even consider Letizia a threat, but something about her had changed.

Seeing the blatant malice in Detlinde’s expression made a shiver run down Martina’s spine—but it seemed that her lady had more to say.

“After all, how would she not? There must be a reason why both Father and the king wanted her to become the next aub. The king even intended to reduce me to a mere interim by royal decree. I can think of nothing more despicable.”

Ah... So she was told.

It hadn’t been apparent at first; Detlinde had been too busy discussing her plans to become the next Zent. Now that the focus of their conversation had changed, however, the sour mood the retainers had all expected was finally shining through.

As the third child of a third wife—and a female one at that—Detlinde had received barely any attention from her parents while growing up. Now, her father was asking her to be an interim for Letizia’s sake, while her mother wanted her to cede the position of aub to Benedikta. Detlinde’s capabilities aside, Martina started to understand why she was more attached to becoming Zent.

“We are struggling enough trying to maintain Ahrensbach’s mana,” Detlinde said. “For that reason, we plan to have Lord Ferdinand oversee religious ceremonies in the temple.”

“The husband of an aub, sent to the temple?!”

“Indeed. He did the same while in Ehrenfest, and we have all seen how useful those ceremonies are.”

Indeed, the Dedication Ritual performed at the Royal Academy with the royal family’s backing had made the power of religious ceremonies all too clear. There were no nobles in Ahrensbach who would agree to enter the temple, but Ferdinand had spent so much time in Ehrenfest’s that he likely wouldn’t oppose the idea.

Martina gave a small nod. “Still, are you okay with that, Lady Detlinde? You were always so openly opposed to marrying an archduke candidate who has been somewhere as repulsive as the temple...” She thought back to how disastrous it had been when her lady first learned about her engagement to Ferdinand. An inescapable royal decree was forcing her to marry an archduke candidate from a bottom-ranking duchy—one who had actually lived in the temple. Trying to console her while she wailed and wallowed in misery hadn’t been easy.

That said, after actually meeting with Ferdinand and learning of all his legendary accomplishments in the Royal Academy, Detlinde had started to seem more optimistic about their marriage. It had certainly helped that Ferdinand gave her such a kind smile and promised to make all her wishes come true. Martina remembered thinking that their engagement ceremony was like something straight out of a love story.

It was a very valuable learning experience for me. As long as a woman is pretty and enjoys enough status, men will treasure her. Her personality doesn’t matter in the slightest.

“Once I have the Grutrissheit, I can simply remove that royal decree,” Detlinde announced with a chuckle. “I would cut him loose in a heartbeat; after all, I think we can all agree that Lord Ferdinand is not suited to being the husband of a Zent. I am only allowing our engagement to continue for now so that I am not inconvenienced if my search ends in vain.”

In other words, she intended to force Ferdinand into the reviled temple and make him offer mana to Ahrensbach. Then, after exploiting him to the fullest, she would cancel their engagement at her convenience. It was unbelievably self-serving and almost inhumane, but so was Detlinde. She always said whatever came to mind and never looked to the future. Martina and the other retainers knew this well, so they made no effort to chastise her. Instead, they held their tongues, annoyed about what was to come.

It’s obvious how this is going to play out: she won’t find the Grutrissheit, then she’ll end up needing to marry Lord Ferdinand, whom she forced into the temple she despises so much. I wonder how much she’s going to whine then.

“I must do whatever I can to find the Grutrissheit within the time limit,” Detlinde said, then a broad grin spread across her face. “Of course, ending my engagement is not the only reason; I am not blind to Ahrensbach’s plight. As the next Zent, I will issue a decree reinstating Lord Blasius to the archducal family. Then, I will assign him or my elder sister as Aub Ahrensbach.”

“That would make the duchy more stable,” Martina said. Returning those two demoted archnobles to the archducal family would eliminate Ahrensbach’s greatest fear: entrusting its future to Detlinde.

Assuming it ever happens.

Pleased with that response, Detlinde began listing all the other royal decrees she would make.

“Then, after presenting Mother with what she desires, I will search for a husband suitable for a Zent. Incidentally, I am far too wise to carry out a purge as Lord Trauerqual did upon taking the throne. I will respect the existing royal family... to some extent. Perhaps it would be fun to make one of the princes my husband.” Her lips curled into a devious smile. “I could steal Prince Sigiswald from Lady Adolphine or Prince Anastasius from Lady Eglantine simply on a whim.”

Detlinde had mostly been in the wrong on both occasions, but it seemed she still resented the times she had been scolded during a tea party and mocked.

Well, I suppose there’s no harm in letting her fantasize. She’ll never actually obtain the Grutrissheit.

“You say that as if making a prince your husband would be simple,” Fatiehe said, “but doing so would damage your reputation. Do not forget, Prince Anastasius and Lady Eglantine are so deeply in love that they abandoned the throne for one another.”

Detlinde pouted and drew her eyebrows together in a frown. Martina could tell that her lady was getting annoyed, so she quickly changed the subject.

“On a more important note, what if Lord Ferdinand opposes your decision to cancel your engagement? I expect he would rather be married to the future Zent than return to the temple of a bottom-ranking duchy.”

“Oh, that shan’t be a problem,” Detlinde replied. “I intend to have him give his name so that he won’t be able to defy me.”

Hearing their lady take name-swearing so lightly had reduced all the retainers to wide-eyed shock. Of course, Detlinde was oblivious to this, and she continued to speak as brazenly as ever.

“As you said, before he came to Ahrensbach, he was stuck in the temple of a bottom-ranking duchy. He should be more than willing to give his name to the woman he loves. Besides, we cannot have him blabbering about our duchy’s secrets once he is sent back to Ehrenfest. The name-swearing is essential; Mother said as much.”

That might be so, but I can’t imagine Lord Ferdinand ever agreeing to it.

“In fact, I will inform him right now,” Detlinde proclaimed. “Summon him.”

Martina had no choice but to obey. After all, it was a retainer’s duty to accommodate whomever they served—even when their desires were so terribly selfish.

“Lord Ferdinand. You love me, do you not? Then give your name to me.”

Ferdinand met this request from his fiancée with a look of surprise. Naturally. Few would appreciate being summoned away from their work to have such a shameless demand thrust upon them.

I don’t think Lord Ferdinand will ever agree, but I wonder how he’ll get out of this one.

Martina and the other retainers watched on with interest. Detlinde’s attendants in particular were always glad to have someone else endure their lady’s anger for a while.

“You wish for my name?” Ferdinand murmured after some thought. “Do you mean we should offer our names to each other? I recall that happening in a story about two inseparable lovers.”

Martina also recognized that story. Someone had mentioned during a Royal Academy tea party she attended that it was featured in one of Ehrenfest’s books.

Of course, Detlinde was not basing her request on a tale of romance; her motivation was far more inconsiderate. She immediately scrunched up her face and said, “Lord Ferdinand, I see absolutely no reason to give my name to you. To be frank, you should have offered yours to me long ago when I so graciously saved you from Ehrenfest’s temple.”

Ferdinand slowly shook his head, wearing a gentle smile. “I would grant your wish in a heartbeat, but I do not have a name to give.”

In other words... he’s already name-sworn to someone else? It was such an unexpected revelation that a stir ran through the room.

“I am your fiancée!” Detlinde shrieked, turning redder by the moment. “How could you give your name to someone else?!”

Ferdinand gave a quiet scoff. Despite his smile, his light-golden eyes were bitterly cold and completely devoid of affection. “There have been two women who have sought my name to control me: Lady Veronica, and now you. I must say... the resemblance is uncanny. Like grandmother, like granddaughter.”

Demanding someone’s name was far from normal. But even after Ferdinand made his displeasure so clear, Detlinde remained painfully oblivious.

“Grandmother?!”

Instead, all she seemed to care about was the grandmother she had never met stealing the name of a man she didn’t wish to marry. Little did she know, she had made a false assumption—Martina, Fatiehe, and everyone else there had too. Because of the deceptive phrasing that Ferdinand chose, they were all convinced that Veronica had taken his name. In truth, she had only sought it.

“Do whatever you can to get it back!” Detlinde barked. She glared at Ferdinand, her teeth gritted in outrage, but he merely knitted his brow as if troubled.

“Now that I am a central figure in Ahrensbach’s administration, I cannot go back to Ehrenfest so easily. Do you have the authority to let me return?”

It was precisely because Ahrensbach couldn’t risk Ferdinand going to Ehrenfest and disclosing sensitive information that Georgine wanted him under control. Sending him back there to obtain his name stone obviously wasn’t an option; the nobles working with him had been openly against him even staying a night in the Ehrenfest Dormitory’s tea party room, and because Detlinde wasn’t yet the aub, she didn’t have the authority to overrule them.

“You refuse to grant my wish?! You truly are Ewigeliebe come spring!” Detlinde declared, calling Ferdinand useless to his face. He apologized, but his smile never faltered. In the eyes of Martina and the others, he had accepted the abuse he was now having to listen to.

From there, the already irreparable chasm between the couple grew wider and wider.