Ascendance of a Bookworm (LN) - Volume 5.4 - Chapter 16

Kirnberger’s Country Gate

“Theodore, this is Judithe. We’re almost there.”

From the passenger seat of my Pandabus, Judithe sent an ordonnanz ahead to Kirnberger. By the time she received a response—an assertion that everything was ready for our arrival—the province’s summer estate had already come into view.

“There it is,” Judithe said. “The giebe should be waiting for us in the side building for priests.”

We soon reached the summer estate and convened with Giebe Kirnberger, who had with him the two scholars in charge of the province’s printing industry and several others. The giebe looked and carried himself a lot like a knight; he had a large, muscular build and a rather stern face. His father and predecessor had very openly maintained that Bonifatius was best suited to serve as Ehrenfest’s archduke, and it seemed that his passion had rubbed off on his son. The current Giebe Kirnberger was said to hold Bonifatius in extremely high regard.

So he’s a musclehead, I guess.

After we exchanged greetings, Giebe Kirnberger started giving instructions. Fran, Monika, and the chefs were to be guided to the side building for priests, while the scholars by his side would show the Gutenbergs to the lower city.

“As I understand it, the Gutenbergs have brought much luggage with them,” Giebe Kirnberger said. “I think it would be best for them to go to the lower city first; the chalices and our meeting can come later. What do you think?”

“I agree,” I replied. “The Gutenbergs will surely want to see their new accommodations. I thank you ever so much for being so considerate.”

Fran and the others started moving our luggage, at which point Lieseleta approached me. “Lady Rozemyne,” she said, “rather than venture to the lower city with the others, Gretia and I would like to prepare your chambers before dinner. May we?”

I gave them permission—as attendants, they had their own duties to take care of—and they were led away by members of the estate. In the meantime, I asked the Kirnberger servants to help carry our luggage.

“Now, then—let us go to the lower city.”

Kirnberger’s lower city had seemed so very large and populous from above, but actually traveling through it revealed that not many people lived there. An almost eerie silence hung in the air.

“If your Gutenbergs have any issues, they need only let us know,” Giebe Kirnberger announced, then chuckled and said, “We have more than enough vacant buildings, so we can have them moved to another house in no time.”

The accommodations we were shown to looked perfectly fine, and the Gutenbergs promptly began moving their things into their new home and place of work. Gil and the other gray priests helped as well. Their movements were so smooth and elegant that, even without their robes on, they stood out a little here in the lower city.

Though, by the time we come to retrieve them, they always blend right in.

“I did not expect such a massive city to have so few residents. Is there a particular reason?” I asked the giebe, hoping to kill some time.

He gave me a warm smile, like an old man gazing upon his beloved granddaughter. “This city used to be so much more animated; there was international trade abounding and a never-ending flood of people going to and fro. But then, long ago, the ruling Zent sealed the country gate. It was a time before Ehrenfest, I should add. We were a province within the greater duchy of Eisenreich.”

“I was taught the history of Ehrenfest, but the name ‘Eisenreich’ received no more than a passing mention at the start...” I mused aloud. “I certainly didn’t know it was a greater duchy.”

If the country gate hadn’t been opened since the days of Eisenreich, then that meant it had been closed for at least two hundred years. Several of the other gates were closed too, but that was only because the missing Grutrissheit was required to open them. The giebe assured me that Kirnberger had its own, unique reason for its gate being closed, and that alone filled me with excitement; I could smell one heck of a story.

Oh no. I’m starting to get too amped up. What should I do?

“Can you tell me more about these unusual circumstances?” I asked, staring up at the giebe. I couldn’t wait to find out more—but then Lutz announced that everyone had finished moving the luggage.

Giebe Kirnberger snorted in amusement and gazed toward the far end of the city. “Judithe did mention your interest in the country gate. How about we go there after we’ve discussed the printing industry? It should make an excellent backdrop for the tale.”

I’ll need to get a notepad ready!

I smiled and gave a simple nod—though, on the inside, my heart raced at the very thought of learning a new story.

After showing the Gutenbergs to their new home, we visited the giebe’s summer estate. There, Benno and the Plantin Company discussed the establishment of guilds with Kirnberger’s scholars while I delivered the chalices to Giebe Kirnberger and concluded Spring Prayer. This was an annual occurrence for me, so I was more than used to it.

“Now, let us go to the country gate at once,” Giebe Kirnberger said.

I climbed into my Pandabus, then we were off. Seeing the province from above for a second time, I couldn’t help but compare it to Ehrenfest. The buildings were as one would expect—largely wooden structures built atop foundations of white stone—but everything else was backward. Back in Ehrenfest, reaching the aub’s castle would require one to pass through the lower city and then the Noble’s Quarter. Here in Kirnberger, however, the city’s entrance led straight into the Noble’s Quarter and to the giebe’s estate. The farther you ventured, the more common the city became.

“It intrigues me that Kirnberger has its estate so close to the front of the city...” I said. “The estates in Illgner, Leisegang, and Groschel are all much farther back.”

“A long time ago, visitors from other countries used to flock to Kirnberger,” Judithe explained from the passenger seat. “As a result, the inns for foreign merchants and the homes for the commoners doing business with them were built on the side of the city closest to the country gate, with the giebe’s estate securely behind them. That’s what I was taught, anyway...”

All of a sudden, she pointed ahead of us. “Oh, there it is! Can you see that gate with a weird hue, on the other side of the white one made by the aub? That’s our destination!”

Beyond the white border gate, which looked just like the one leading into Ahrensbach, I saw another gate of a similar size. “Wow...” I murmured. “The ivory structures made by the aub are beautiful, but gates and walls made by the Zent are on another level entirely.”

The border gate and Kirnberger’s outer walls were pure white, like the walls around the city of Ehrenfest, but the structures beyond them blew me away. They shone with a faint, mother-of-pearl iridescence and seemed to stretch in both directions as far as the eye could see. It brought to mind the Great Wall of China, but rather than twisting and adapting to the contours of the land, it continued in an unnaturally straight line. A single glance was all that was necessary to realize it was an artificial creation, and seeing it was terribly disconcerting.

This border was definitely drawn by the first Zent.

It was taught in geography that Yurgenschmidt and the barrier around it were perfectly circular—like someone had pressed a round cookie cutter into a bigger continent—but this was my first time seeing the country’s border with my own eyes. I’d assumed it would be invisible like the borders of duchies, but even the walls were awash with a plethora of colors.

“The country gate truly is beautiful,” Judithe said. “You can’t really see it from within the city limits—the lower city’s wooden extensions get in the way.”

I remembered visiting Kirnberger during my first Spring Prayer, but I’d never seen the country’s border before; the lower city’s four-story buildings were about as tall as the gate, so it couldn’t really be seen from the giebe’s estate. Of course, it probably hadn’t helped that Ferdinand had been in charge of greeting the giebe, and most of my time had been spent drinking rejuvenation potions in the carriage or being told to keep my head down.

The grand white doors of the border gate were completely open, with what looked to be knights guarding it from the front. Farther beyond it were the iridescent, firmly closed doors of the country gate. They were covered with complex patterns that must have served the same purpose as the designs on Schwartz’s and Weiss’s clothes: disguising the magic circles beneath.

“Is the Kirnberger border gate always open like this?” I asked Judithe.

“No, today is a special occasion. According to Theodore, Giebe Kirnberger asked for the aub’s permission to open it so that you could see the country gate. I’m so moved—I really wasn’t expecting to see it up close like this!”

The border gate was said to be closed most of the time, meaning one rarely had a chance to see the country gate head-on.

“Even growing up in Kirnberger, all you ever see are the closed border gate and the walls around it,” Judithe grumbled. “The border gate is basically the same height as the country one, so you’d need to stand at the perfect angle just to catch a glimpse of the colorful glow.”

As a kid, Judithe had been desperate to see the country gate. Becoming a knight had simply been an excuse for her to get close to it.

She continued, “I got to see the country gate for the first time after getting a highbeast in the Royal Academy. It was so impressive that I almost cried. U-Um... By the way... This is true for most knights from Kirnberger. I’m not strange or anything. Theodore is the same way!”

Judithe’s orange ponytail swished around as she repeated over and over again that she wasn’t alone in her obsession. I could tell that she was wishing she hadn’t revealed her entire motivation for being a knight, and seeing her trying to backpedal was amusing beyond words.

“Is that so?” I asked with a small smile. “But, as I recall, Theodore said that he wished to serve Giebe Kirnberger as his father does.”

“Ngh... He was just acting cool. In truth, he feels the same way I do. Honest!” She sounded so desperate that I decided to let it go for now.

I’ll double-check with Theodore later.

“Lady Rozemyne, remember to land your highbeast after the giebe,” Judithe said.

I did as instructed and touched down atop the border gate. A few Kirnberger knights greeted us upon our arrival, waiting in a neat line, and among them I saw Theodore. I smiled at him, then he smiled back. It was good to see him enjoying his apprentice work.

“Lady Rozemyne, allow me,” Giebe Kirnberger said after I put away my Pandabus, then slowly escorted me to the edge of the gate. Perhaps because we were so high up, the wind was strong and very chilly. The country gate glimmered in front of us.

Border and city gates often contained several work and waiting rooms, but the country gate looked to be only three or four meters thick. Plus, while the roof of the border gate beneath me was flat and large enough for several knights and their highbeasts, its iridescent counterpart had a pitched roof. It hadn’t been designed to be landed on.

“Beyond this point, we see what is known only to the knights of Kirnberger,” the giebe explained as we took one more step toward the edge of the gate. From there, we could see what existed beyond Yurgenschmidt—a sprawling ocean of sand. It reminded me of the dust that formed when something was completely empty of mana.

“I expected to see another country beyond the wall...” I said. “Didn’t you say that Kirnberger used to trade with foreign visitors? Did their country run out of mana and end up a desert...?”

A small part of me didn’t want an answer, especially when I thought about how much Ahrensbach was degenerating from its lack of mana. Maybe the neighboring country had turned to sand after the gate was closed.

Giebe Kirnberger shook his head and smiled. “No, I don’t believe so. The country gate is a massive teleportation circle for connecting two countries. One cannot pass through it without the Zent’s permission, no matter how much mana one has. I only know this from tales that have survived the generations, but when the gate is open, there is an enormous magic circle that floats above it.”

Foreigners from other countries would teleport to Yurgenschmidt through the country gate, then pass through the border gate to enter Kirnberger. In short, one had needed the permission of the Zent and the ruling aub to access the province.

“Was there ever anyone who ended up stuck between the two gates?” I asked. “Perhaps someone who had permission from the Zent but not the aub.”

Giebe Kirnberger laughed; maybe he hadn’t expected such a question, or maybe he was imagining a merchant floundering between the two gates. “Perhaps a merchant that foolish existed at one time, but we have no records of such an entertaining tale or anything like it ever happening. Besides, anyone in that situation would need only return through the gate from whence they came.”

“In that case, what stories can you tell me?” I asked, taking out my diptych and eagerly looking up at him.

“We have many tales about the celebrations that were held to welcome the Zent. The country gate would be opened in spring and then closed again at the end of autumn, and the Zent would come each time to perform the process.”

Kirnberger’s lower city still passed down tales of spring from long ago. The season had once marked the beginning of trade for the year, since foreign merchants would pour in when the gates opened, so the residents had needed to prepare themselves. It followed that there were also plenty of stories about merchants hurrying home in the autumn. Those who failed to leave before the Zent closed the gate would need to endure a harsh winter for which they hadn’t prepared. There were plenty of stories sympathizing with and making fun of merchants who had needed to spend all their earnings to survive the cold.

“The visiting merchants would also forget all sorts of belongings in their rush to leave,” the giebe continued.

“Yurgenschmidt has quite a few country gates, doesn’t it?” I asked. “The Zent must have been very busy having to open and close them all each year. I feel nothing but sympathy for him; I end up bedridden just from circling Ehrenfest.”

The Zent had an astoundingly hard job. Even traveling by highbeast, having to tour the country with a huge retinue of guards and retainers sounded exhausting.

“There’s no need to worry about that,” Giebe Kirnberger cackled. “To my knowledge, there are teleportation circles within each gate. They can be used only by Zents wielding the Grutrissheit.”

Oh, of course.

The Zent had the power to create teleportation circles between duchies—and, since the country gates existed outside of the aubs’ borders, he probably hadn’t even needed their permission to make them.

Oof. Is it just me or is having the Grutrissheit a game changer?

I really hadn’t understood why so many people were up in arms about Trauerqual not having the Grutrissheit; it had seemed to me that the country was doing at least okay under his rule. Now that I was finding out more about the duties expected of the Zent, however, I was starting to understand its importance.

“Still, why was Ehren—no, Eisenreich’s country gate closed?” I asked. “It must have been crucial for trade.”

Ahrensbach was maintaining its reasonably high rank almost exclusively because it had the last open country gate in Yurgenschmidt. Such gates were clearly of tremendous importance, so what had happened to warrant this one’s closure?

Giebe Kirnberger pointed at the gate and said, “Those doors once led to a country known as Bosgeiz. During those days, this land was a greater duchy known as Eisenreich, and its territory included most of what is today known as Frenbeltag. The border also reached even farther north than Haldenzel, into an area with a colossal mine which produced the duchy’s exports.”

Eisenreich had sold ore from the mine and products made from the extracted metal to Bosgeiz. It had also used some of the metal to fashion weapons, which the people of Haldenzel had used to defeat feybeasts.

“There is one key factor to note,” the giebe explained. “Any country doing business with Yurgenschmidt wants one export above all else: feystones. They don’t seem to exist elsewhere—or are exceptionally rare, at least—so even the small stones from feybeasts weak enough for commoners to slay can be sold for a considerable profit.”

This was my first time hearing about such countries, and my mind was immediately flooded with questions: How did they use feystones if they didn’t have them otherwise? Did this mean that Ahrensbach was selling feystones to Lanzenave? I noted them down on my diptych as Giebe Kirnberger continued in a quiet voice.

“The duchy’s decline all started when Bosgeiz convinced Aub Eisenreich to overthrow the Zent,” he said. I stared up at him in shock, but he merely stroked his chin for a moment before continuing his tale. “The aub of the time wielded enough power to realize this goal, so he invited the instigators from Bosgeiz to Eisenreich and established a foothold in the Sovereignty. His focus? Securing the Grutrissheit for himself.”

Aub Eisenreich had wanted to depose not a contentious ruler like our current king but a true Zent who had actually carried the Grutrissheit. Bosgeiz had sent Eisenreich tons of provisions and other resources, while the aub had used the teleportation circle to the dormitory to gradually move knights and supplies to the Sovereignty.

“Did nobody warn the aub against taking such extreme action?” I asked.

“Many tried, but he ignored them all. His daughter sensed that he could not be stopped, so she flew to the Sovereignty on her own and, in secret, informed the Zent of the trouble that was brewing. Her news enraged the Zent, who immediately closed the country gate before returning to the Sovereignty and, with the Sovereign Knight’s Order, launching a surprise attack on the Eisenreich Dormitory. The onslaught continued until the aub was dead, and the Eisenreich archducal family was executed for treason, as were all the important Eisenreich nobles who had been moved to the Sovereignty.”

“What happened to the aub’s daughter—the one who informed the Zent?” I asked. “Was she also deemed guilty by association?”

“She alone narrowly escaped execution. In fact, to show his appreciation for her loyalty and her decision to reveal her father’s scheme, the Zent declared her the new Aub Eisenreich.”

That was a huge relief; had she been executed as well, it would have left an awful taste in my mouth. But the giebe’s tale didn’t end there.

“You must understand, however—that post was no great honor. The greater duchy Eisenreich was divided in two, becoming a middle duchy and giving rise to Frenbeltag. As for the ore-rich mountains to the north, those were given to Klassenberg. The daughter had also been engaged to a member of the royal family, but that union was swiftly canceled. Instead, she was paired with an archduke candidate more appropriate for a mere middle duchy.”

The daughter’s life had been spared, but she had been made the aub of a torn duchy that had lost its core industries. Her loved ones had all been executed, leaving the duchy without an archducal family to support it, and she had even lost her engagement to a prince. Worst of all, no matter how much Eisenreich had struggled, the Zent had refused to offer even the slightest assistance. Her assignment had come as more of a brutal punishment than anything else.

Giebe Kirnberger continued, “Eisenreich was scorned as a duchy of traitors, and it quickly became a shadow of its former self. Losing ore as an industry also thrust farming into the limelight, so the Leisegangs’ power swelled almost overnight. Of course, there were Eisenreich nobles who were none too pleased about this.”

The archducal family and other key nobles had all been executed, but plenty more Eisenreich nobles had remained. Most had yearned for their former glory and complained ceaselessly about the current state of the duchy.

“And the duchy’s nobles hadn’t been the only ones to complain—the abrupt closing of the country gate had stranded countless visitors from Bosgeiz. Those who had wished to return to their former home gathered in Kirnberger, the province closest to the gate. Minstrels came as well, eager to hear firsthand accounts of such a grand event and spread them through song.”

Songs about the suffering of the Bosgeiz citizens and the foolishness of Aub Eisenreich’s decision had apparently become a tremendous hit all throughout Yurgenschmidt.

“The descendants of the late Aub Eisenreich formed a new archducal family. They grew up hearing tales of their duchy’s former glory as well as the minstrels’ songs. So, when it came time to choose the next aub, they fell into two camps.”

“Two camps?” I repeated, tilting my head at him.

Giebe Kirnberger offered a grave nod. “One wanted to beg the Zent to reopen the country gate so that the Bosgeiz visitors could return home. The other believed that the visitors should be punished for having corrupted the former aub in the first place.”

The archduke candidates had taken one of two sides, recruiting either those who wished to reclaim the duchy’s former glories or those who thought it wiser to simply ride out their punishment. This had culminated in a war that split the duchy in two.

“The aub bemoaned her lack of power,” the giebe said. “After failing to stop her father from plotting treason, she had then failed to keep her children and grandchildren from ripping the ailing duchy in two. She gave her position and status back to the Zent and requested that someone else be assigned to rule.”

The Zent had come to Eisenreich with the Sovereign Knight’s Order and the first ever Aub Ehrenfest. Together, they had crushed the Eisenreich nobles who wished for the gate to be opened again, then used the Grutrissheit to change the location of the foundation such that Eisenreich would never again seek its former glory. Its name was changed as well.

“It is said that Eisenreich’s castle was once located somewhere in the province we now know as Groschel. With that in mind, perhaps Groschel was indeed a fitting location to house Lady Gabriele when she came from Ahrensbach.”

I wrote everything down, then gave my notes a quick look over. “These events don’t quite add up with what I was taught. As I understood it, the first Aub Ehrenfest attacked Eisenreich and stole the foundation himself.”

“That isn’t entirely incorrect—he did come with the Zent and the Sovereign Knight’s Order to take the foundation from the ruling aub. But it certainly does give a different impression.”

I shut my diptych with a snap and looked up at the giebe. “I happen to know about Eisenreich already. Many of the stories I’ve collected speak of a foolish aub who defied the Zent, but they use the name of a separate duchy that I never associated with Ehrenfest.”

In truth, I had assumed it was no more than an educational tale meant to deter people from committing treason; I never would have imagined that it was actually based on ancient Ehrenfest. I wanted to compare it with the stories told in other duchies.

“Does Kirnberger have any written records of this story?” I asked.

“It has mostly been preserved through oral tradition, with parents telling their children, and giebes telling those who serve them. We have records, but they are rather old, and the antiquated language makes them difficult to read.”

They exist!

I wanted to read these records from where the event had taken place, so I made my appeal without a moment’s hesitation. “Giebe Kirnberger, would you allow me to read them? I’m something of an expert when it comes to ancient language. I also wish to compare the oral accounts, the archducal family’s version of events, and the records that remain with the royal family.”

Giebe Kirnberger took a step back. “E-Erm... Of course. If you wish.” He seemed a bit put off, but I didn’t care about that; he had given me his word that I could delve into the records.

“I thank you ever so much, Giebe Kirnberger. I will need to transcribe them during my short stay here.”

The giebe looked down at me quietly. “And what do you think of the story?”

“Well, it made me realize the true importance of the Grutrissheit. A king without one cannot open country gates, redraw borders, or remake foundations. If an aub attempted to depose our current Zent, he would not be able to respond as forcefully as the Zent from long ago. I can only imagine how much he is struggling to rule Yurgenschmidt.”

It had really hit home for me that a Zent’s authority came from the Grutrissheit. Because the current king lacked it, he had no choice but to endure slights against him and couldn’t take firm action against greater duchies. Trauerqual sure had it rough.

Giebe Kirnberger must not have expected my answer; he looked taken aback. “It sounds as if you are focusing on King Trauerqual specifically...”

“Is there something wrong with that?” I asked, quizzical.

The giebe sighed, then looked at me intently and said, “Allow me to change the question. What quality would you say is required of Aub Ehrenfest, who must rule a duchy that can no longer use its country gate after an act of treason against the Zent?”

“What quality...?” I repeated. This might have been one of those questions that I couldn’t afford to get wrong, so I paused to seriously consider my answer. “Could it be the capacity to understand that foreign trade is no longer an option? A skilled aub would surely focus on improving the duchy without it.”

Giebe Kirnberger gazed toward not the gate but the sprawling city in the opposite direction. “As he who rules Kirnberger, it is my belief that Aub Ehrenfest is expected to serve the Grutrissheit-wielding Zent without allowing others to influence their position. That is why I remain uneasy about Lord Wilfried taking the role. He is too easily swayed by the Leisegangs, nobles of his own duchy.”

Wilfried was working so hard to earn the Leisegangs’ support, but his efforts were having the opposite effect on Giebe Kirnberger. That reminded me—one of the giebe’s sons served Wilfried as a retainer.

“Did you hear something from your son, by chance?” I asked.

“Nothing that you haven’t already been made aware of, I imagine...” The giebe then fell silent and showed no signs of elaborating. He couldn’t provide any more details, but his source was already clear to me; I would need to gather the information I required myself.

I’ll need to listen to Cornelius’s report later.

“Lord Wilfried may have my son in his service, but that doesn’t mean he automatically has my support,” the giebe said, his voice now low and stern.

I straightened my back; this was a discussion about my fiancé, and it was my duty to support him. Before I could speak, however, Giebe Kirnberger continued.

“Tell me, who convinced the aub to marry Giebe Groschel’s daughter after he so foolishly and obstinately refused to take a second wife? Who decided to give up members of her own retinue to support the archducal couple and even retreated to the temple to avoid any unnecessary conflict? Lady Rozemyne, I would ask that you become the next aub instead.”

Umm... No?

Sylvester’s decision to take a second wife was entirely the result of Brunhilde’s go-getting attitude, Rihyarda had returned to the aub’s side entirely of her own volition, and Clarissa was only working with Philine under Leberecht because taking her to the temple would have been a political disaster.

“Giebe Kirnberger, I am afraid you are mistaken on several counts,” I said. “The aub came to his own decision to take a second wife, after considering the duchy’s needs and circumstances. In fact, I even tried to stop Brunhilde, knowing that the aub had eyes for only his first wife.”

The giebe received this news with a look of surprise, so I pressed the attack. I explained why Rihyarda and the others were working alongside the archducal couple... but, even then, he didn’t seem convinced.

“So you say, Lady Rozemyne, but the royal family trust you more than they do any other Ehrenfest archduke candid—”

“Giebe Kirnberger,” I said, broadening my smile. I’d started my life in this world as a commoner; I was not going to become the next Aub Ehrenfest. “Is it not obvious that my brother, the next aub, would seek to obtain the Leisegangs’ support? Furthermore... were I to accept your request, would I not be allowing another person to influence me, thereby demonstrating my unworthiness to rule? How are you hoping I’ll answer, exactly?”

The giebe’s eyes widened, and after a moment of silence, he laughed. “I now understand your position, Lady Rozemyne. The wind is quite strong here; let us return to my estate. I will ask for those records to be dug up for you.”

At last, he seemed to have realized that he would never convince me, no matter how much he tried. I produced my highbeast and climbed inside, relieved.

Soon after our return to the giebe’s estate, the records I’d sought were delivered to me. I skimmed the old-looking boards, then Roderick and Hartmut helped me to transcribe them. We needed to work as quickly as we could; we were going to leave Kirnberger once Benno and the scholars finished their meetings and negotiations, and the Gutenbergs set up their new place of work. This process became quicker each year as the scholars working in the printing industry adjusted to their jobs, so we really needed to hurry.

The surviving records weren’t collections of stories but rather simple descriptions of what had occurred each year, focusing in particular on the lives of the former Eisenreich nobles and those who had been unable to return home to Bosgeiz. They seemed to be transcriptions of reports that had previously been given to the Zent.

As expected, these records don’t quite match the oral history.

The events were covered impassively and in chronological order, which made everything seem so much drier than in verbal accounts. The records did, however, elaborate on the role that Bosgeiz had played, which had received almost no mention in my history lessons and the giebe’s retelling.

In the years before Aub Eisenreich’s treason, there had apparently been a massive increase in the number of merchants visiting from other countries, with the same merchants visiting several times from spring to autumn. This had also aligned with an increase in how much food was traded. After the gate was closed, because only the absolute richest of the stranded Bosgeiz merchants had been able to afford citizenship, most had become traveling merchants and scattered to the four winds to earn a living.

That makes sense. Not having citizenship means they wouldn’t have been able to rent homes or stores, find employment, or get married.

How many years had passed since Otto first told me about traveling merchants? Vague memories of all that he had said to me came to mind. Perhaps he was a descendant of the Bosgeiz stragglers.

In the end, we managed to complete our transcriptions with time to spare. It soon came time for us to leave, so I returned to the temple with Benno, as per usual. I asked him to deliver some of Kirnberger’s specialty materials to Heidi in her ink workshop, we discussed the training of those from Groschel, then I saw him off.

“And thus concludes my Spring Prayer,” I announced to Zahm and Fran upon returning to my High Bishop’s chambers. “I should have a bit more free time now.”

“Lady Rozemyne,” Zahm replied, “we will soon be accepting the apprentice blue priests, so things are sure to get busier again.”

“Oh, but you and Fritz took the lead in directing the gray priests who will soon be their attendants, did you not? I would assume those preparations are already complete.”

Zahm nodded with a wryly amused smile. The chefs we had received from Freida and their gray shrine maiden assistants had already begun their training, which meant there was more food in the orphanage. We could also expect new vendors to come by the temple, as ingredients were being bought from stores favored by the home families of the apprentice blue priests.

“Their rooms now contain furniture and study implements,” Zahm informed me. “We have arranged their schedules such that they will have as much freedom as possible while adjusting to the ways of the temple. Lady Philine even offered to advise us on what is needed to educate noble children.”

During my absence, Philine had taught my temple attendants all sorts of things.

“Well, if the preparations have all been made, I suppose I shall welcome the children,” I said. “The temple will get much busier starting tomorrow.”

I wanted to be around to keep an eye on things when the apprentice blues moved into the temple, which was why I’d asked for them to stay in the playroom while I was away for Spring Prayer. I sent an ordonnanz to the castle and asked for the children to be brought over by carriage.

That should take care of them. As for the rest...

“Now then, Cornelius—how is Wilfried doing?” I asked. It was a question that I hadn’t been able to pose in the giebe’s estate, where anyone might have been listening.

All of my retainers twitched, and the atmosphere in the room suddenly became a lot heavier. Everyone was hiding their true feelings behind a mask of composure, but I started to feel tense.

“Is it as Giebe Kirnberger said...?” I pressed. “Is he being unduly influenced by Leisegang?”

Cornelius gave a slight smile and shook his head to calm me down, then answered in a bright tone, “It seems that, rather than being influenced by them, he is caught between his pride and duties.”

And what does that mean, exactly?

“I’m not sure I follow, but... is there anything I can do?” I asked, my brow furrowed. “Lamprecht did ask for our help. I don’t mind assisting them in ways that don’t interfere with my temple duties, but I don’t know what I can actually do.”

Cornelius shrugged. “To put it simply, Lord Wilfried will need to settle these matters himself. It would be best for him if you did not interfere.”

I gave him a searching look, sure that he was hiding something from me. “Is that really true? Did Lamprecht say that?” I then turned to Leonore, who had been with him.

“Wilfried seems to be unsatisfied in various regards,” she added with a smile, “largely as a result of the aub speaking about his Leisegang tasks and taking Lady Brunhilde as a second wife. He has not voiced these concerns to the aub, but he does often mumble them to his retainers. To make matters worse—though we expected this from the start—the Leisegang nobles whose provinces he visited for Spring Prayer did not have any kind words for him. They spoke at length about why you should be the next aub.”

The key members of the former Veronica faction had all been punished in some form or another, so it didn’t surprise me that the Leisegangs had chosen to demean Wilfried at every opportunity—presumably through obscure noble euphemisms. He was, after all, the only archduke candidate to have been raised by Veronica herself.

“It wouldn’t have been easy on my schedule, but perhaps I should have found a way to accompany him on those visits...” I said. “I might have been able to protect him.” Maybe I could have managed with enough rejuvenation potions and some carefully timed rests.

Cornelius grimaced and shook his head. “That wouldn’t have helped. If Lord Wilfried wants to become the next aub, he needs to follow the Leisegangs himself. Having to rely on you would have wounded his pride and undermined his attempts to improve his reputation. Wouldn’t you agree?”

“Perhaps, but the Leisegangs wouldn’t have been so openly critical...” I wouldn’t have been able to help Wilfried get in their good graces, but I could have at least stopped them from disrespecting him so much.

Cornelius raised an eyebrow at me. “This isn’t something for you to worry about, Rozemyne. The temple is in an unfortunate state with so few blue priests, and you already had enough on your plate. Plus, it was Lord Wilfried who offered to circle the provinces for Spring Prayer so that he could meet with the giebes. He could have just traveled around the Central District and then had you accompany him on his visits to the Leisegangs, but he opted against it.”

I knew that Cornelius was trying to comfort me and even thought he was making some very reasonable points, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that he was being too hard on Wilfried.

“In that case,” I said, “perhaps I could advise him that he doesn’t need to improve his reputation with the Leisegangs right away. The aub may need to piece our shattered duchy back together posthaste, but Wilfried should have plenty of time to gain support before he needs to become the aub.” Maybe he would feel more at ease after being told that he didn’t need to rush.

Leonore gave me a troubled look. “I agree that he does not require their support right away, but I believe it would be best for you to keep your distance from him when you can. According to Rihyarda, he is at a complicated age. If you interfere now, it might end badly for everyone.”

I cocked my head at her, not really understanding her concerns. Hartmut stepped in to explain for me.

“Leonore is worried that Wilfried, still wounded by his failure to obtain the Leisegangs’ support, won’t be able to take your advice sincerely. Especially when you are the candidate they want as the next aub.”

Ooh, right... Even my best advice might come across as an insult to him.

If my retainers were being this vocal, I could only assume that Wilfried was losing his mind over his inability to secure the Leisegangs’ support. I wanted him to overcome that misery and get back on his feet, so I made a mental note that I was determined to follow:

Avoid unnecessary contact with Wilfried.