Ascendance of a Bookworm (LN) - Volume 5.5 - Chapter 10

Letters and a Discussion

Sylvester and I spent the rest of our journey back to the dormitory conversing with each other and asking our retainers to schedule a meeting for after dinner. Upon our return, Lieseleta rushed over to me.

“Welcome back. Professor Hirschur is waiting for you both in the common room.”

“Professor Hirschur?”

Sylvester and I exchanged looks, then went into the common room. Hirschur immediately stood out to us; in a room full of desperately busy adults darting here and there in preparation for the coming days, she was casually standing by the bookshelf, reading.

“Hirschur?!” Sylvester exclaimed. “What are you doing here?!”

“Aub Ehrenfest, Lady Rozemyne,” she greeted us, though her eyes remained glued to her book. Only after she had returned it to its rightful place did she finally look up at us. “Back at last, I see. I come with a letter from Ferdinand.”

“From Ferdinand...?” I repeated. “But his Starbind Ceremony was delayed. Do you mean to say that he came to the Royal Academy anyway?”

“That very same delay means he is still a citizen of Ehrenfest. As a result, while he cannot attend the conference, I would imagine there is little stopping him from visiting the dormitory. One of his attendants gave this to me.”

That reminded me—Ferdinand had sat out an Archduke Conference in the past, only to be summoned to the Royal Academy anyway. Perhaps that had happened again.

Hirschur pointed at a magic box sitting nearby and said, “Please open it at once, Aub Ehrenfest.” It looked much too large for a simple letter, but the advantage was that only the archduke could open it. “I’m told that Ferdinand put some research documents inside as well, to ensure that I would get it here swiftly. A rather cheeky move, wouldn’t you agree?”

“Would you not have neglected to deliver it until next winter otherwise?” I asked. “He simply knows you too well, Professor Hirschur.”

“Obviously.”

Don’t look so proud about that!

Sylvester opened the box with a wry smile, and Hirschur pounced at the documents inside. Once she had them in her hands, she began to skim them with a look of complete satisfaction.

“What are they about?” I asked.

“The library’s magic tools. It would seem that they can be made more easily by splitting the functions of organizing and searching for documents. Still, the creation process is rather difficult, and it requires high-quality materials...”

Magic tools that can organize and search for documents? Wait, does that mean I can put simplified versions of Schwartz and Weiss in my library?!

The two shumils were also responsible for guiding royals to the Grutrissheit, but that part wouldn’t be of any use to me.

“Professor Hirschur, let me see them too!” I cried. “You don’t care about organizing documents, do you?” I jumped up and down, trying to at least glimpse the research, but Hirschur raised it much higher than I could reach.

“I come first, Lady Rozemyne. These tools will be of much more use to me, as my documents will remain unorganized without them.”

Guh... She’s right!

I recalled the state of Hirschur’s laboratory and promptly conceded. She needed an organizing magic tool more than anyone.

“I expect to have completed the finishing touches by the start of the next academic term,” Hirschur informed me. “You may come to my laboratory then, if you are interested.”

“You expect me to wait until winter...? I want to read them now.”

“You would do well to remember that you are supposed to be in Ehrenfest. Wait for the proper time and place.”

As everyone kept reminding me, I didn’t want to be seen wandering around the Royal Academy. I was here purely to assist the royal family, so visiting the scholar building or staying in Hirschur’s laboratory for my own enjoyment were completely out of the question.

Ngh... But my magic tools...

No matter what I told myself, the thought of my very own Schwartz and Weiss was to die for. I started to contemplate how to get my hands on their production method, only for Hirschur to look down at me and chuckle.

“I shall write up a list of the necessary ingredients and deliver it to the dormitory. Perhaps you can hole up in my laboratory this winter to brew with them.”

“Yes!” I declared, my fists clenched in determination. But before I could say much else, Sylvester thwacked me on the head with some paper.

“Rozemyne, this one is for you,” he said, holding out a letter from the box. I went to take it from him, then paused; what if there was invisible ink on it? Nothing had happened when he slapped it against my head, so there was probably nothing to worry about.

I can take it, right? Ferdinand wouldn’t carelessly use shining ink on a letter he was going to package with other correspondence... right?

My hand trembled a little as I reached out to accept the letter. Sylvester must have noticed, because he gave me a suspicious look and said, “What’s gotten into you?” as he handed it over.

“Well, um... will I be allowed to write him back?” I asked while checking the letter for shining ink. “Is it not wrong of me to worry about or contact him?”

Sylvester seemed troubled all of a sudden. “You can respond to him, yes. I’m sure he’s going to give me a lot to think about, so let’s delay our meeting until tomorrow.” He gave the correspondence addressed to him to one of his scholars, then turned his attention to the eccentric professor. “Good work, Hirschur. You can eat dinner with us today.”

“I appreciate the offer,” she replied, “but I must return to my laboratory at once.”

“I see. Well, I won’t stop you.”

After freeing Hirschur with a breezy wave, Sylvester headed off to his room. I then did the same, firmly holding my letter from Ferdinand.

After eating dinner and bathing, I went into my hidden room. Paper and regular ink had already been prepared for me to write my response, but I didn’t have any shining ink—as expected, since I hadn’t anticipated needing to write a letter to Ferdinand during the Archduke Conference.

“There’s so much I want to mention, like the silver cloth and the chance that he might be punished by association... but anything I write will end up being checked, so I need to keep it all innocuous. Well, I’m sure Sylvester will cover all of the important parts.”

I sighed and opened the letter, which was prefaced with a warning: “I wrote this while everyone was absent for the Archduke Conference and got Eckhart to include it with my letters to Sylvester. Pen your response under the assumption that it will be checked.” He was evidently in a position where he could write but not read freely.

You know, Ferdinand, even I understand that my letters to you will undergo inspection.

It was obvious that anything I wrote would be carefully examined not just by Ahrensbach but by Sylvester as well. Dissatisfied to have been thrust into such an annoying scenario, I started reading the letter written in a familiar hand. The first lines of the first paragraph were a scolding.

“So, you have stopped writing to me. How am I to interpret that? You were the one who demanded this correspondence in the first place, as a way to confirm that I am well.”

Ngh... I’m sorry.

I hadn’t sent Ferdinand a letter since Sylvester told me to cease my worrying and stop contacting him so often. He was well within his rights to complain.

“There’s so much I want to tell you!” I grumbled, my lips pursed. I would need to settle for what Sylvester had told me, though, so I put pen to paper and wrote what could essentially be summarized as “I need to be more careful now that I actually look my age.”

That alone wasn’t enough to vent all of my frustrations, though; while I was at it, I mentioned that I was being urged to show the same concern for Wilfried that I’d shown Ferdinand when he was here, and that Wilfried was far from pleased with the results. Nobody here would listen to my complaints, so just being able to write them down was surprisingly therapeutic.

“Getting all that off my chest has really calmed me down. Of course, I can’t actually send this; Ahrensbach would learn far too much about Ehrenfest’s internal affairs.”

I folded up my sheet of complaints, then started a new letter with my one-line summary and an additional note that I was indeed growing at an impressive rate. That settled that.

I continued reading my letter from Ferdinand. In it, he explained that the nobles of Ahrensbach had also been made to participate in Spring Prayer, and that he had gathered plenty of ingredients in the process. Letizia had apparently refused the kindness-infused potions that Sergius had delivered to her, as she “did not yet need potions of such a high quality.”

My stamina had once been so poor that I would end up immobilized in the blink of an eye, but Letizia could get by on normal rejuvenation potions. She had ended up deprived of mana, sure, but she hadn’t collapsed once during Spring Prayer. Ferdinand wrote that he had again been surprised to remember how sickly I was compared to a normal child.

“Well, I’m a lot healthier now than I was when you were around. I ended up bedridden a mere three times this past Spring Prayer, and I recovered after just two days of rest. How about that?!”

I scribbled my response, filled with indignation, but the truth of the matter was that being compared to Letizia depressed me. It felt like I was still so far away from being normal.

You just need to improve, Rozemyne. Bit by bit.

I returned my attention to the letter.

“Alongside this letter are some verinur flowers I obtained while circling Ahrensbach for Spring Prayer. They are an ideal ingredient for making charms. I cannot do much with them myself, owing to my lack of a workshop, but I expect you are now capable enough to brew with them on your own.”

So that was why the correspondence had come in such a large box—he had sent us some materials as well. A good number of my charms had just broken, so it was good timing.

Not just good, actually—perfect. Classic Ferdinand.

I read a section describing the ideal charms to make with the verinur flowers, then continued.

“In return, there are a few things I must ask you to prepare before next year’s Archduke Conference. First, a minimum of three hundred sheets of maximal-quality fey paper. Ehrenfest and Drewanchel published research on improving such paper, did they not? Use that to your advantage. From my workshop, I also require some geschtepferd leather, as well as sonnenschlag and regisch feystones, also of maximal quality.”

Hold on a second. How is that a fair trade for a few measly flowers?!

I didn’t know what Ferdinand intended to do with such materials, but his demands seemed pretty unreasonable. I would probably be able to find everything but the fey paper in the workshop he had given me, but still—this was a big ask.

Maximal-quality fey paper, hm?

A minimum of three hundred sheets meant that not even our supply of trombe paper would suffice. The noble children entering the orphanage this year had made me hesitant to produce more.

Maybe I should ask Brigitte after I get back to Ehrenfest...

Our research into new uses for Illgner’s fey paper had resulted in a joint research project with Drewanchel, and it was possible that the province had invented another kind of paper in the meantime. If not, I would just need to have the children harvest trombes—without telling the nobles, of course.

Ferdinand was asking a lot of me, but I wrote that I would do my best to prepare everything. As I read on, however, his list of demands grew longer. He also wanted us to bring various items with us when we attended Aub Ahrensbach’s funeral next summer, including some luggage and more food. It was starting to feel like he was using me as a very convenient tool.

Hmph. I’m busy too, you know!

The letter continued, “I do not like having to ask so much of you, so I intend to prepare some fish for you in return. I will accept any requests.”

“Yippee!” I shouted. “I’ll get your paper and meals ready in an instant! Praise be to the gods!”

I made a note to tell Sylvester to send over the luggage that Ferdinand needed, then started humming to myself as I wrote down the fish I wanted to eat.

“I don’t want taunadel or any other poisonous fish, but I do want plenty of spresch; that spresch-ball soup we had was delicious. I also want fish that even commoner chefs will be able to skin. So... some of that... and a few of these... Done.”

I grinned at my response, excited to have fish again after such a long time. Now I was really looking forward to summer. Such enthusiasm was tragically short-lived, however; my mood took a nosedive when I read the next part of the letter.

“What in the world drove you to revive an ancient practice during the Starbind Ceremony?”

I didn’t know much about the goings-on of the Archduke Conference; Hartmut and Clarissa only ever reported that they were busy. According to Ferdinand, however, the Sovereign temple and most duchies other than Ehrenfest were petitioning the royal family to have my engagement to Wilfried canceled. They wanted me to join the Sovereign temple as its new High Bishop and then teach Yurgenschmidt how to perform religious ceremonies in accordance with the ancient traditions. I couldn’t be sent to other duchies to do so while serving as the High Bishop in Ehrenfest, but such restrictions wouldn’t be applicable in the Sovereign temple.

It had now been proven that there was a positive correlation between the amount one prayed and the number of divine protections one obtained, so reviving the old rituals and spreading the correct way to perform them would increase the mana average all across Yurgenschmidt. The Sovereign temple was also proclaiming that bringing back the old rituals would allow a true Zent to be chosen.

Ahrensbach already had a Zent candidate, so it was in fervent support of the Sovereign temple’s efforts. Georgine was actively asserting that, by having Ferdinand and the other nobles participate in ceremonies, they would gain more divine protections, and their harvest would increase. She was also riling the archducal couples of other duchies by saying things like “It is unjust for Ehrenfest to monopolize such valuable knowledge” and “The entire country would benefit from Lady Rozemyne becoming the Sovereign High Bishop.”

Ferdinand wasn’t yet married to Detlinde, meaning he couldn’t participate in the Archduke Conference or stop Georgine from speaking her mind during tea parties and meals. He could hear reports from scholars and attendants who were present, then complain to Georgine about her actions, but she would shut him down by saying that she was only telling the truth.

“As the Lanzenave princess has been refused, I expect negotiations with them to be unpleasant once we return to Ahrensbach. That is still preferable to having accepted her, but...”

Ferdinand would need to be involved with said negotiations, but he already seemed to be mentally exhausted. He had decided to leave Justus in Ahrensbach and was spending the Archduke Conference trying to keep Georgine’s attention away from her duchy.

As for Detlinde, she had apparently been fuming after an encounter with “a tremendously rude woman” in the Royal Academy’s library. She was in a much better mood now, though; the others in her duchy had managed to raise her spirits by saying that the revival of the old ceremonies might lead to her being chosen as the next Zent. It seemed to me that they were just humoring her to prevent any more hysterical tantrums before their foundation was fully dyed. None of them intended to actually stop her.

Oof... Ahrensbach is going crazy.

In response to the duchies that were siding with Georgine, Ehrenfest had attempted to protest. “How would you fare if one of your archduke candidates were taken by the Sovereign temple?” we had said. “In the first place, such an act is forbidden.” Unfortunately for us, we were fighting a losing battle; Ehrenfest and Frenbeltag had already demonstrated that a duchy could improve its harvest by having nobles with plentiful mana take part in its religious ceremonies, and considering that most duchies were in dire straits, having to wrestle with mana shortages and worsening crop yields, Ferdinand thought that we were basically doomed. Even if we forestalled them now, we were guaranteed to fail next year.

“If you were to become the Sovereign High Bishop, it would allow you to restrain the royal family and the Sovereign temple, spread the traditional way of performing ceremonies, and assist other duchies. It would also free King Trauerqual from his current burden, if your efforts led to the establishment of a Zent by proper means.”

Ehrenfest and I would suffer, but nobody else. That was why everyone was searching for ways to get me into the Sovereign temple.

“As you were brought into the archducal family through adoption, if you were disowned and reduced to the status of an archnoble, then it would be possible for you to move to the Sovereignty. You, Sylvester, and Karstedt would all need to agree, though. No matter how much pressure the royal family might put on you, they cannot use a royal decree to cancel your adoption.”

One thing that a royal decree could accomplish was canceling my engagement to Wilfried. The king would simply need to retract his approval, which would return us to the time when everyone had been fighting for my hand in marriage, no matter what Sylvester tried to say or do.

“In general, do not refuse to assist the royal family—doing so will only harm Ehrenfest’s reputation further. Now that we are being treated as though we were on the winning side of the civil war, we will surely face the envy of the losing duchies. At the same time, however, the victorious duchies will seek your assistance. Expect to be summoned and consulted, as I once was. And, should you receive such a request, do not refuse; instead, buy time. You must endure for at least a year, though do try to hold out for even longer.”

Ferdinand then gave me a response for if the royal family tried to force my hand: I was already doing so much for them, so why would I agree to be reduced to an archnoble? He also advised me to tell fans of Elvira’s stories that I was so deeply in love with Wilfried that I wanted to prevent our engagement from being canceled under any circumstances.

I appreciate the warning and advice, but... I don’t think I could pretend to be in love with Wilfried. I’ve never been in love with anyone. Hmm...

Even as I climbed into bed that night, I continued to ponder my situation. So much had happened... which was probably why I woke up the next morning with a fever.

“You did spend all of yesterday morning outside,” Ottilie said while preparing some rejuvenation potions for me. “At least today is Earthday—you can rest as usual without fear of what others might think. The aub has said that your discussion can wait until you have recovered.”

Seeing me bedridden had given Clarissa a minor panic attack. Lieseleta was consoling her by saying that this was a regular occurrence for me.

“Um, Clarissa... do you think I will end up in the Sovereign temple?” I asked.

“Ehrenfest cannot afford to lose you, Lady Rozemyne. But fear not!” She gave her chest a mighty thump. “Hartmut and I will protect you!”

I appreciated her enthusiasm, but Ferdinand had said that we were basically doomed. Sylvester must have been under an enormous amount of pressure. I doubted he would ever admit it, though; he always acted tough and tried to hide the weirdest things from me. That was probably what Anastasius had meant yesterday.

“As someone from another duchy, what do you believe Ehrenfest should do?” I prompted. “If the Sovereign temple wanted someone other than me, what would you think?”

Clarissa’s expression flattened; then she gave me a look of complete seriousness. “I would think it was the best opportunity we would ever have to earn favor with the royal family and other duchies. By complying with the Sovereign temple, Ehrenfest would prove that it deserves its place among the victorious. We would need to negotiate a few terms—how long the arrangement would last, the order in which the duchies would be taught, and so on—but we would never have another opportunity to gain so much from the loss of a single archduke candidate.”

She gave me a troubled smile. “On the other hand, if we monopolize you, it will earn us the jealousy and ire of every other duchy. Because of my familiarity with Ehrenfest’s internal situation, I understand why we cannot afford to lose you... but I would not have been as sympathetic back when I was living in Dunkelfelger. I would have been shocked to see Ehrenfest being so self-centered, especially when there must be hordes of people eager to watch the Saint of Ehrenfest perform her miracles!”

That was a shame; Clarissa had come across as such a competent scholar before those last few words. In any case, I now had a better idea of how the other duchies viewed our situation. Sylvester had doubtless been going through hell while I was translating in the archive, becoming a Zent candidate, and getting rejected for not being a royal.

By dinnertime, my fever had gone down, so I went into one of the dormitory’s meeting rooms to speak with Sylvester. Florencia was with him, and she welcomed me with a smile.

“It is good to see that your fever has gone down.”

“Ferdinand told me what has been happening during this year’s conference,” I noted, then took out his letter to me and my response. Sylvester read them both before returning the former and giving the latter to one of his scholars.

“In any case,” he said with a grin, “I don’t intend to cancel your engagement or send you to the Sovereignty.”

Florencia looked at us both, clearly worried. “Has the royal family said anything?”

“They want me to hand over Rozemyne, since it’ll repair their relationship with the Sovereign temple and grant the other duchies’ wishes. In their words, ‘a deeper understanding of religious ceremonies will benefit the entire country.’ That doesn’t matter, though; I’m turning them down.”

Sylvester had argued that the idea was unthinkable when most nobles still aggressively looked down on the country’s temples. Plus, the royal family had promised that my involvement in the Archduke Conference’s Starbind Ceremony would be a onetime thing and that it would solidify Prince Sigiswald as the next Zent; demanding that I now join the Sovereign temple was nothing short of outrageous.

Sylvester had gone on to say that the royal family’s reason for wanting my assistance—the strength of my mana—was also why Ehrenfest considered me such a crucial pillar of support. “It would be unacceptable if both Ferdinand and Rozemyne were stolen from us to support other lands,” he had said. “Besides, is it not against the law to move archduke candidates to the Sovereignty?”

“The Zent accepted my argument,” Sylvester continued. “I’m guessing he only asked on the off chance that I might concede, since pretty much every single duchy is pushing for it. The thing is...” He crossed his arms, then told us the most important part of all: Sigiswald was in agreement with the other duchies.

The first prince had apparently said that this was Ehrenfest’s only chance to earn favor from all of the other duchies, and that Yurgenschmidt’s highest priorities were performing religious ceremonies, obtaining divine protections, and making everyone’s mana more efficient. He was pushing for me to join the Sovereign temple.

Wait, what? When did this exchange take place, exactly? Does neither Trauerqual nor Sigiswald know that I’m a Zent candidate now?

Everything that Sylvester was saying had to do with making me the Sovereign High Bishop; Anastasius seemed to be the only person thinking about securing me as a Zent candidate. We had only visited the shrines yesterday, so perhaps Trauerqual and the others in the royal family were simply unaware, but Eglantine and Anastasius had presumably told them all about it.

Or, what, have they not told them anything at all...?

Anastasius hadn’t been confident in my status as a Zent candidate before he accompanied me to the shrines. He had told me afterward that he was acting alone, and if Eglantine was keeping the purpose of the shrines a secret to avoid starting chaos, then Magdalena wouldn’t have known either.

She must have noticed all of that hullabaloo in the underground archive, but again, that only happened yesterday... Maybe the Zent is learning what happened as we speak.

I was contemplating how much information was being shared among the royal family when I saw Sylvester shrug. “I got a letter of invitation this morning,” he remarked. “The royal family summoned me for a meeting two days from now. The Zent still seems to be on my side, so I’m planning to turtle up and wait for the Archduke Conference to end. No matter what anyone says, the only way an archduke candidate can be moved to the Sovereignty is through marriage.”

Sylvester intended to wait out the time limit, but if this new invitation was the result of the entire royal family learning that I was now a Zent candidate, then we were facing an entirely new situation.

“Well, erm...” I reluctantly began. “I think you’re going to have a much harder time turning them down from now on.”

“Why’s that?” Sylvester asked. He and Florencia were both staring at me in surprise.

I directed Ottilie to bring out some sound-blockers, then gave one to Sylvester and another to Karstedt, who was standing in his usual position as a guard. I didn’t give one to Florencia, which made her look very concerned indeed.

“The shock of what I am about to say might be great enough to impact the baby...” I said. “Sylvester, I will allow you to decide whether we take that risk.”

“Is it really that serious?”

“Yes. I would even advise that you clear the room.”

Sylvester waved a hand, and our retainers all exited, leaving only the two of us, Karstedt, and Florencia. I gripped one of the sound-blockers and made my declaration:

“I’m a Zent candidate.”

Sylvester and Karstedt both yelped, their eyes wide in terror. “That doesn’t make any sense,” Sylvester replied. “What are you even saying?!”

“I don’t really understand it either, but here we are. I just kind of went with the flow, doing as the royal family asked, and... Yeah.”

I’d prayed at the Royal Academy and in Ehrenfest’s temple, then let Anastasius drag me to all of the gods’ shrines. That much had made me a Zent candidate, but then I’d been told that I wasn’t qualified, since I wasn’t registered as a royal.

“I’ll spare you the details, since I’m not sure whether I should be saying any of this in the first place, but I expect that I’m closer to becoming the next Zent than anyone else in the country. I wouldn’t actually be able to rule, though; my blood isn’t registered as belonging to the royal family. I expect that the royals are about to put more pressure on us than ever before.”

“How am I only hearing this now?!”

“It only happened yesterday.”

I’d wanted to tell him immediately upon my return from the underground archive, but my letter from Ferdinand had taken priority. Then, I’d ended up with a fever. I was feeling better now, at least, which was precisely why I was here.

“No matter what we do, my engagement is going to be canceled,” I said. “We can hope that a member of the royal family obtains the Grutrissheit in the three years between now and my coming of age, but they will want me in their pocket in case they fail to manage that on their own.”

Anastasius had retracted his claim that Sigiswald would take me as his third wife, but only so that he and his family could explore other options. The Zent might have been willing to respect Ehrenfest’s circumstances and ignore the demands for me to become the next Sovereign High Bishop, but I doubted he would turn a blind eye to the fact that I was their best option for installing a proper Zent with a Grutrissheit as quickly as possible.

“My letter from Ferdinand was about me being taken by the Sovereign temple,” I said, “but in any case, he wrote about how the royal family could force me to move to the Sovereignty. He also gave me some advice on how to cope if it came to that. We will need to consider what we will do if Ehrenfest is given a royal decree.”

Sylvester scrunched up his face. This was an issue bigger than anything to do with the Sovereign temple. Not even an archduke would be able to refuse an order related to the next Zent and obtaining the Grutrissheit.

“Perhaps we should summon Wilfried as well,” I said. “The results of this could change his life.”

Sylvester contemplated the idea for a moment, then shook his head. “Nah. Not this time.”

“Are you sure? This really could change everything for him, couldn’t it?”

“It could, but will summoning him achieve anything? We won’t be able to defy the king’s orders, no matter how we feel about them, and the last thing we need right now is Wilfried causing a scene here at the Royal Academy. If the news sends him into a frenzy or he leaks everything to his retainers, we’ll just have even more problems to deal with.”

It was true that Sylvester and Florencia wouldn’t need his help to make a case for why I should stay in Ehrenfest. On top of that, we didn’t want him spreading the news that I was a Zent candidate before we’d even had a chance to formally discuss it with the royal family.

“I just won’t have the time to spend with Wilfried if this sets him off,” Sylvester said. “We need to decide on Ehrenfest’s official position, plan how to negotiate with the royal family, and think about what conditions we should put forward. Furthermore, Wilfried is still underage; he can’t attend the Archduke Conference, nor has he been summoned by the royal family. I see no reason to have him come here. He’ll need to accept whatever happens, but that shouldn’t be a problem; as his parents, we decide whom he marries to begin with.”

Sylvester was speaking in the impartial manner of an archduke, but his brow was furrowed in a way that made his displeasure more than clear. “The royal family didn’t invite you to this upcoming meeting either,” he continued. “I’ll negotiate as best I can, but I’m the archduke of a duchy that isn’t a very influential player on the country’s stage. The result may not be the one you want, so I want you to be prepared for whatever might happen.”

My only choice was to leave all the negotiating to Sylvester and Florencia. I understood that perfectly well.

“I have not forgotten that you saved me and my family all that time ago,” I said. “Although things seldom go as I expect, I have always tried to carry out my duties as an adopted daughter. Thus, as long as you continue to protect my family and those in the temple, as well as the Gutenbergs, then I will obey any decision that you make as the archduke.”

I could tell that Sylvester was gritting his teeth. His frustration betrayed his love for me, and as I basked in the joy of that realization, I handed a sound-blocker to Florencia. “If you were both invited, then she needs to know as well. Sylvester, please explain everything to her.”

Sylvester opened his mouth, but he was so overwhelmed that no words came out.

Florencia smiled. “Based on the urgent look on your face, can I assume that we do not have time to waste on your agonizing?” she asked, urging him to speak.

“The truth is...”

Upon hearing that I was a Zent candidate, Florencia froze, smile and all. Then, after a pause, she placed a hand on her forehead. “I thought that I was used to her surprises after the winter reports, but perhaps not...”

“The royal family likely wishes to avoid any unnecessary chaos,” I said, “so do not tell anyone what I have told you.”

“That much is obvious,” Sylvester replied. “The real mystery is the royal family’s endgame.”

Eglantine had told me that the royal family hoped to maintain the status quo. In their eyes, the best result would include avoiding another war between the greater duchies, and establishing Sigiswald as the next Zent.

Then I realized something: that was only what Eglantine wanted. Anastasius had said that he hoped to ease her fears, so perhaps they were the only two who felt that way. I definitely hadn’t heard the Zent or Sigiswald himself speak a word about wanting me to obtain the Grutrissheit and become the first prince’s third wife. Given how poorly information seemed to flow between members of the royal family, it was dangerous to jump to conclusions about what they desired.

“You are correct,” I said to Sylvester. “We do not know what the royal family wants. Thus, let us stop thinking about their aims and instead consider how we can squeeze as much value for Ehrenfest out of them as possible.”

“Rozemyne?!” Sylvester exclaimed. He and Florencia were both taken aback by my suggestion.

“After saying that he wanted me to become the first prince’s third wife, Prince Anastasius declared that Ehrenfest should deal with its own problems. The royal family will not show us any consideration, nor will they care about what will benefit us most. That is why we must focus on our own interests. Using last year’s publishing negotiations with Dunkelfelger as guidance, let us think of a term you will refuse to budge on, one you think you can probably secure, and one that would mark the sweetest victory if obtained.”

Sylvester exchanged a look with Karstedt, then put on a wry smile and said, “You’re sounding a lot like a merchant.” It seemed unlikely that his meeting with the royal family would immediately turn into a hard-core negotiation, but adopting the right mindset couldn’t hurt. I decided to put forth basic conditions for whether the discussion was about me entering the Sovereign temple or my being a Zent candidate.

“Now, as for my three terms... I refuse to accept there being a limitation on the number of retainers I can bring to the Sovereignty. If they send me to the Sovereign temple, then I would ask to be treated as an archduke candidate, not an apprentice blue shrine maiden. I would also attempt to negotiate for more books than can be found in Ehrenfest’s book room.”

“C’mon, Rozemyne,” Sylvester said with a grimace. “That stuff’s valuable to you, not Ehrenfest.” He was probably used to merely reviewing whatever options his scholars put together and picking the one he thought was best.

“If you think so, then make some suggestions of your own. We don’t yet know how many we can tell about my circumstances, so you can’t just consult your scholars as you normally would. You will all need to come up with your own ideas to secure value for Ehrenfest.”

Sylvester and Florencia finally came to their senses and started considering what would benefit our duchy. They had spent more than enough time listening to scholars and discussing things with the other aubs attending the conference, so it didn’t take them long to get into the swing of things. I wrote their stream of suggestions on my diptych; sorting them all based on their importance would make it that much easier for us to turn the upcoming negotiations in our favor.

“The royal family will presumably state their intentions without inquiring about our own, but we can still negotiate with them,” I said. “Make it clear that we are willing to cooperate with them, but only if the arrangement is mutually beneficial. You must be firm about that. Last of all, tell them that they will need to speak with me as well. After all, they will need my consent if they wish to cancel my adoption.”