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

Epilogue

“Done at last.”

After the conclusion of the Archduke Conference, Hildebrand sat down to have dinner with his mother, Magdalena; he was too young to participate in the Dedication Ritual, so he wanted to know how it had gone. He had considered asking his retainers to take part and then questioning them instead, but his guards were unable to leave their charge unattended. It had also been necessary for them to stay and assist with guarding the Sovereignty while so many were absent for the ceremony.

“How was it, Mother?” the prince eagerly asked. “Did you see any pillars of light?”

Instead of merely watching the ritual as a member of the royal family, Magdalena had participated as a Sovereign noble. Hildebrand could not wait to hear about her experience; the ceremonies that Rozemyne performed as the High Bishop were always so dramatically unique.

Magdalena cut into the herb-wrapped bird on her plate, popped a morsel in her mouth, then scanned the room. The prince’s excitement must have rubbed off on his attendant and guard knights, as they were also listening with great interest.

“No, I did not even glimpse the ‘red pillar’ that the other royals said occurred during the winter.”

“Oh... Is that so...?” Hildebrand replied, crestfallen. He had assumed that strange occurrences were a given when Rozemyne performed a ceremony.

“Lady Rozemyne speculated that using one of the temple’s divine instruments rather than her schtappe might have been the reason—or the fact that we were performing a winter ceremony in the spring.”

“Were you disappointed, Mother? I know how much you wanted to see it.”

Magdalena had not been able to participate in the previous Dedication Ritual, since she had needed to stay at the palace to complete administrative work. She had heard about it from the royals who did attend, though, and their descriptions had made her declare that she would one day see it for herself.

“That said,” Magdalena continued, her red eyes narrowing into a mischievous smile, “one of the chalices did glow the same divine red, and we witnessed the most wonderfully fantastical sight as the light shimmered up into the sky.”

“I knew it! Something did happen!” Hildebrand exclaimed, in high spirits once again. “Please tell me more, Mother.”

Just as Magdalena had said, the pillar of red seen during the winter Dedication Ritual had not made a second appearance—but that did not mean she had nothing to report. As the participants had gradually begun to pray in sync, they had started to feel as though they were becoming one. Entrusting themselves to the flow of mana had actually been quite comforting. Hearing the delight in his mother’s voice made Hildebrand resent the age restrictions that had kept him from attending as well.

“It was my first time performing a religious ceremony with so many in attendance,” Magdalena continued, “and I must admit, the joy it brought me was indescribable. Even the exhaustion afterward was pleasant enough.”

Several of the participants had apparently collapsed during the previous ritual, so Rozemyne had ended its spring repeat much sooner. Thanks to her consideration, none of the nobles had passed out from a lack of mana.

“That is not to say that nobody collapsed, though,” Magdalena noted. “The mana flowed so quickly that the Sovereign temple’s blue priests and shrine maidens were unable to stop in time. Rozemyne was very troubled, as she had already told them that they did not have enough mana to keep up.”

It was only natural that there would be a huge mana disparity between priests who had never compressed their mana before, and the aubs and retainers who supported their duchies. Even in Ehrenfest’s temple, Rozemyne was said to perform the Dedication Ritual separately from the local blue priests.

“I suppose it could not be helped, as the Sovereign temple has never before performed the Dedication Ritual with nobles,” Magdalena said with a laugh. She believed that the Sovereign temple had gotten too cocksure ever since its discovery of a means to find the next Zent. It had made demand after demand of the royal family... but its humiliation during the ceremony had satisfied her desire for vengeance.

After dinner, the mother and son moved from the dining hall to a parlor. Arthur prepared them both tea, after which Hildebrand cleared the room; it had been such an aggressively turbulent Archduke Conference for the royal family that they had no shortage of confidential matters to discuss. Even the least serious of them required privacy and the use of sound-blocking magic tools.

Hildebrand gripped one such tool, then looked at Magdalena, who was leisurely enjoying the aroma of her tea. “Did it work?” he asked in a low voice. “Did we strengthen everyone’s impression of Rozemyne as a saint, and demonstrate that she is special enough to be adopted by the king?”

“Quite. The ritual alone would have sufficed, but then she repeated a prayer that would make it easier for everyone to brew their own rejuvenation potions. The events that followed were not part of our plan, but they were exceedingly convenient; seeing the chalice shine green must have erased any lingering doubts from the minds of the nonbelievers. Everyone should now agree that Ehrenfest should not be permitted to keep her to themselves.”

Rozemyne had not only reinforced the fact that her religious ceremonies produced bizarre phenomena, but also demonstrated that she knew the words to a prayer that could rejuvenate gathering spots. Then, she had caused a divine instrument to shine simply while attempting to share her knowledge. It was all more than enough to warrant her reputation as a saint used to speaking with the gods.

Magdalena continued, “Even without the Grutrissheit, she belongs in the Sovereignty. Ehrenfest will consider it a great loss, but few others will protest her adoption.”

Indeed, when it came to religious ceremonies, Rozemyne had a wealth of wisdom and experience. Her mana capacity befitted a Zent, and the translated slates from the underground archive indicated that, because she had managed to enter every one of the Royal Academy’s shrines, she was omni-elemental. Even if she could not become the country’s next ruler, her mana would greatly benefit future generations of the royal family.

“I find it so very hard to believe that she is the same young woman who requested a book room as a prerequisite for her marriage...” Magdalena said with a sigh, then sipped at her tea.

Hildebrand picked up his cup as well, taking care to hold it as his mother was holding hers. “Rozemyne simply does not want to marry Sigiswald,” he said, then took a sip himself.

Rozemyne had teared up and started trembling midway through her private conversation with Sigiswald in the underground archive. That she had given him such an impossible condition was proof enough that she wanted to avoid marrying him at all costs.

“We are fortunate that Aub Ehrenfest agreed to do away with that request,” Magdalena said.

“But, um... has Father really approved of this? We mean to end Rozemyne’s engagement to Wilfried, so...”

Rozemyne’s current engagement had already received the king’s support, and the king’s word was absolute. Were they really able to pair her with someone else? If so, Hildebrand wondered, would it be possible for him to cancel his own engagement? So many questions ran through his mind.

Magdalena set down her cup and gave a light shrug. “He did not object, as this new arrangement is the most peaceful way to resolve our problems. Lord Wilfried might have been able to join Lady Rozemyne in the Sovereignty as her prince consort, were Ehrenfest more powerful, but Aub Ehrenfest was clear that the role would prove too much for his son. I expect that, with his duchy’s low population, he wished not to lose any more talented nobles.”

As far as Magdalena knew, Ehrenfest’s sudden rise through the ranks was largely due to Rozemyne, and its most talented individuals were among the younger generation.

She went on, “Aub Ehrenfest displayed a willingness to swallow the demands put to him, as one would expect of a lesser duchy... but one of the young scholars with him objected, introduced his own terms, and displayed an intention to negotiate.”

After receiving so many requests from the other duchies for Rozemyne to be made the High Bishop of the Sovereign temple, Sigiswald and the Zent had made the suggestion to Ehrenfest. The aub and his retainers had said not a word in response, merely looking troubled, until one young scholar had dared to protest.

“That is out of the question,” he had said with a calm and dazzling smile. “The first Zent was a High Bishop—and, for some time, so were those who followed. Ehrenfest honors this by selecting its own High Bishops from among its archduke candidates. Likewise, should a temple under the royal family’s jurisdiction not be overseen by a member of the royal family? I would suggest Prince Hildebrand. Have him serve as High Bishop until he comes of age. If you wish to know what he will need to study in preparation, I will explain; I am already supervising the education of a future High Bishop.”

The royal family had just proposed moving an Ehrenfest archduke candidate to the Sovereign temple, so they were in no position to refuse to send one of their own as well.

“So I would need to endure the temple on top of moving to Ahrensbach...?” Hildebrand asked. He was treated so poorly compared to his elder brothers, who were both getting to stay as royals. Was he really so inferior in his father’s eyes?

“I would never allow that to happen,” Magdalena declared, comforting her son with kind eyes. Her warmth made him feel safe, though he still spoke quietly as he said...

“Must I marry into Ahrensbach...?”

Hildebrand wanted to hear the same words of reassurance—that his mother would never let him be taken—but she gave him a dry smile. “That is a royal decree, I am afraid.”

“It unnerves me to think that Detlinde is my future mother-in-law. And will I really be able to get along with an archduke candidate raised by someone like her?”

He had only briefly heard Detlinde’s voice when they were in the underground archive, and most of her other remarks he had only learned about from other people, but that was still enough for him to gauge what kind of a person she was. And then there was the ordonnanz from Ahrensbach expressing her refusal to participate in the Dedication Ritual. Still, he could not openly refuse a royal decree. His mother was the only one to whom he could express his unease.

Magdalena stood up at once and gently embraced the seated prince. “Everything is going to be alright. I will eliminate Lady Detlinde before you must leave for Ahrensbach. Her fiancé, Lord Ferdinand, would normally be expected to keep a close eye on her and prevent her from committing such malicious acts, but I see no reason to count on him for that.” Her tone became more forceful as she continued, “He must know better than anyone that her misdeeds will affect him as well once they are married, and that he was expected to train her before he was locked into such a miserable fate—but an entire half year has passed, and she remains so unruly.”

Magdalena went on to list Detlinde’s many misdoings, chastising Ferdinand all the while for having allowed them to happen. In her words, he did not understand the hearts of women and was much too careless when it came to taking care of others. His shortcomings were not just with the opposite sex, though—he was the kind of person who would refuse to interact with most people in general.

“Let me be clear,” she said, “Lord Ferdinand is an attractive man, he obtained prodigious grades, and his strength as a knight is undeniable. From afar, he would appear to be the perfect man. He can negotiate, manipulate factions, and devise plots so malicious that nobody would wonder why he is called the Lord of Evil... but that is all. He is an emotionless husk of a man, incapable of engaging with others on a personal level.”

Hildebrand met his mother’s vicious character analysis with wide eyes. Her description of Ferdinand was so far removed from all the positive things that Rozemyne had said about him during tea parties and over lunch.

“Um, Mother... Could you be mistaking him for someone else? He was Rozemyne’s mentor, was he not?”

“He was, but I am not mistaken. Lord Ferdinand must have made his retainers look after Lady Rozemyne on his behalf.” She paused, then sincerely announced, “That man could never raise a young child. Never.” He was apparently so strict and unforgiving that any child in his care would wither before they ever had a chance to grow.

“Still, Rozemyne made his safety one of the conditions for her adoption, did she not? Does she not hold him close to her heart, then?” She would need to have strong feelings for him to have made such a demand during negotiations with the royal family.

Magdalena nodded, looking unsatisfied. “Indeed, that appears to be the case. To be honest, when Prince Sigiswald told me, I could not contain my shock; I never thought that anyone but Aub Ehrenfest would care for Lord Ferdinand as family.”

Ferdinand must have been receiving the most unfortunate treatment in Ahrensbach; why else would Rozemyne have found it necessary to petition the royal family, beseeching them to improve his living conditions and spare him from punishment by association?

“Mother, I want to be the next Zent. Then I won’t have to go to Ahrensbach, correct? It must be a terrible place if Rozemyne had to resort to such means.”

“I will stop at nothing to correct Ahrensbach before your move there, all so that you can live without fear,” Magdalena said, still embracing him tenderly. “However, you cannot become the Zent.”

“Why not?”

“Even if you started now, there would not be enough time to prepare you. We are already in such dire straits that we can barely wait a year for Rozemyne’s adoption. Meanwhile, you do not have enough elements, nor have you even enrolled at the Royal Academy. How long do you believe it would take you to obtain the necessary qualifications? Yurgenschmidt’s collapse will not wait for you to grow up. But even those reasons are only secondary. Most important of all, if we do adopt Rozemyne next year, and she successfully obtains the Grutrissheit... she will become the next Zent.”

There could not be two Zents at once—and if the young Prince Hildebrand, son of King Trauerqual, came to be recognized as a Zent candidate, the subsequent contest for the throne would divide the country.

“Neither the current Zent nor I will allow the royal family to be disturbed during the reign of a new queen, especially one whose engagement we canceled and whom we forced into power for our own reasons. As a royal yourself, you must not introduce such instability.”

The prince hung his head at his mother’s harsh words. Though he knew that she spoke true, he did not want to believe her.

“Mother, Rozemyne is sickly—she couldn’t endure the harsh duties of a Zent. She needs someone to support her. I just want to help.”

Hildebrand already knew from seeing his father’s exhaustion that the obligations of the throne would prove too much for Rozemyne. A girl who was sickly enough to collapse at tea parties could never be expected to rule. Just as the law required archduchesses to take husbands from among the country’s archducal families for support, he believed that a queen would need to marry someone qualified to be a Zent.

“You are right to be concerned, Hildebrand, but Prince Sigiswald is best suited to support her—as both a fiancé and a husband. It is not your place to intervene.”

“I am sure that Sigiswald made Rozemyne hate him...” Hildebrand grumbled, his lips pursed in dissatisfaction. “I would show her so much more kindness.”

Magdalena gave her son a scrutinizing look. “I realize that your time with Lady Rozemyne has made you rather fond of her, but you must not think above your station. You are engaged to Lady Letizia and must learn to cope with your emotions better.”

No matter the extent of the prince’s displeasure, royal decrees were set in stone. The only person who could overturn his and Rozemyne’s engagements was the Zent.

By becoming the Zent, Hildebrand thought, I could save Rozemyne from being forced into a marriage she doesn’t want and from having to take the throne. I also wouldn’t need to move to Ahrensbach.

The prince wriggled out of his mother’s embrace. “If this really is so urgent, then shouldn’t the entire royal family be working toward it?”

“We were able to gather mana during the recent Dedication Ritual, but our duties do not end there. Even now, we are unlikely to have enough leeway for us all to devote ourselves. And even if we did... you will not obtain your schtappe until your third year at the Royal Academy.”

“My... third year?”

“There has been a change to the Royal Academy’s curriculum. You will only be able to obtain the schtappe you will need to enter the shrines after Lady Rozemyne has already come of age.”

But that means I would never make it in time. Why is Father not even giving me a chance?!

Hildebrand swallowed down his dissatisfaction with another gulp of tea; he knew that no matter what he said, the others in his family wouldn’t listen. His feelings did not fade, however; instead, they sat festering in the pit of his stomach.

And with that, their mother-son dinner came to an end.

After the Archduke Conference—which had proven to be especially tumultuous for both the royal family and the third prince personally—Hildebrand returned to his usual routine. He was going to be training with Raublut, the Sovereign knight commander, for the first time in quite a while. The Knight’s Order had been busy with guard duty throughout the duration of the conference, so the prince had merely been training with his guard knights between breakfast and going to the underground archive.

Hildebrand and Raublut started with a practical review of the fundamentals before finally crossing blades. Their exchange was only brief, though; Raublut soon grimaced and demanded that they stop.

“Your bladework is off,” he said. “What in the world happened? No amount of training will stick with you today.”

Hildebrand went with Raublut to the resting area, still carrying his heavy sword. He had thought that he was successfully hiding his emotions, so he was frustrated to have been found out so easily.

The prince’s head attendant, Arthur, was surprised to see his charge return so early. Still, he served the pair some tea.

Raublut drank from his cup. “So, what has you looking so down?”

“I... cannot say.”

Hildebrand was unable to admit his reluctance to marry into Ahrensbach. The thought of Detlinde being his mother-in-law was depressing beyond compare, but he could not reveal that he was searching for a way to escape his current engagement. To do that would be to oppose a royal decree.

He also couldn’t say that Rozemyne was closest to becoming the next Zent; the royal family was keeping such information from their own retainers, so discussing it openly was unthinkable. His beliefs that Sigiswald was a poor match for Rozemyne and that he himself would do much better as her husband were also out of the question.

The third prince wanted nothing more than to speed up his mana compression, circle the Royal Academy’s shrines with his father and Sigiswald, and meet the requirements for him to become the next Zent with Rozemyne by his side. He would need to manage it before his coming of age, but it would secure him the power to cancel his own engagement and free Rozemyne from hers.

But there was a problem—because of the recent change to the Royal Academy’s curriculum, he would now obtain his schtappe in his third year rather than his first, by which point Rozemyne would already be of age, and trying to become the Zent would be pointless.

Unable to voice his true opinions, Hildebrand puffed out his cheeks and changed the subject. He was already frustrated that everyone kept asking him questions about such sensitive subjects.

“I was just wondering what Schlaftraum’s flowers are,” he said.

Raublut shot his head up to look at the prince. “Excuse me?” He seemed unable to keep up with the sudden turn in their conversation, and seeing the shock on his face made Hildebrand smile.

“Hortensia asked Detlinde about them at the Royal Academy, in the library’s archive. Do you like them, Raublut? It seems they can only be found in Ahrensbach. What are they like?” Hildebrand remembered how surprised he had been to learn that the brawny knight commander had a soft spot for flowers—and that he liked ones from Ahrensbach, of all places.

“Oh. She did, did she?” Raublut paused, then adopted the smile that nobles often wore to hide their unrest. His eyes wandered the room; then, after searching for his next words, he said, “Schlaftraum’s flowers are... white. And sweet-scented. I do like them, yes, but they are hard to find. She must have wanted to know whether they were blooming this year.”

Was it rare for them to bloom? Hildebrand cocked his head at the Sovereign knight commander. “Were you not from Gilessenmeyer? How do you know about a flower that blooms only in Ahrensbach?”

A distant look in his eyes, Raublut reached up to touch the faded scar above his cheek. Hildebrand got the impression that it had something to do with his response; the knight commander’s expression was one of a man still mourning a loss.

“Remembering something?” Hildebrand prompted.

“They were a favorite of the lady of a villa to which I was assigned directly after coming of age. It had a greenhouse in one corner, in which the flowers bloomed. Not even the lady herself could say when they first appeared, but generations had treasured them. However... I was reassigned not even five years later. The villa has now been closed, and it no longer has a lady.”

Perhaps the flowers had come from an Ahrensbach archduke candidate who married into the royal family, Hildebrand thought. The civil war had taken place before he was born, but he had heard about villas needing to be closed down after many of the royals were purged. Raublut was surely referring to one of those.

“Now, my old memories aside...” Raublut said, “I would hear your troubles, Prince Hildebrand. If you remain as you are, then your studies will suffer as well as your bladework.” He glanced toward Arthur. “I am not the only one who is worried about you.”

Indeed, Arthur looked concerned as well. Despite the prince’s best efforts to change the subject, they were now back where they had started. Raublut was even jokingly acting offended that Hildebrand would ask questions while refusing to answer any himself.

The young man felt compelled to oblige them... but how? He couldn’t say that he didn’t want to marry into Ahrensbach, nor was he at liberty to say that Rozemyne was closest to becoming the next Zent, or that the king was going to adopt her. And, for obvious reasons, he couldn’t declare that he thought he would make a better husband for Rozemyne than anyone else. At most, he could complain about the change to the Royal Academy’s curriculum.

“I was hoping to obtain my schtappe as soon as possible, but Father has changed the Royal Academy’s lesson plan. That has soured my mood a little.”

“As soon as possible, hm...?” Raublut repeated, his eyes wide. He then squinted at Hildebrand and scoffed. “You are a prince. You can open the door to the Farthest Hall whenever you please.”

“Truly?!” Hildebrand exclaimed—just as Arthur barked out a protest.

“Are you not the Sovereign knight commander?! How could you say such a thing?!”

Raublut raised a hand to silence the head attendant. “However, the Zent must have changed the curriculum for your sake, Prince Hildebrand. You would do well to recognize your father’s act of compassion.”

“What...?” Hildebrand asked. How had it been anything of the sort? He wanted to become a Zent candidate before Rozemyne came of age; then he would put a stop to both of their engagements. To those ends, he needed to get his schtappe right away. How was the change of curriculum anything but an obstruction?

Raublut carefully explained, “We have learned that it is best to compress one’s mana to the fullest extent before obtaining a schtappe. One should also pray to the gods to gain their divine protections and more elements. That is why the curriculum was changed, and it must have happened so suddenly because the Zent wishes for you to obtain the best schtappe that you can.”

Arthur nodded, relieved. “Prince Hildebrand, the knight commander speaks the truth. Please understand that King Trauerqual has done this for you.”

Hearing “the best schtappe” gave Hildebrand pause. His mother had said during a conversation between royals that visiting the Royal Academy’s small shrines and obtaining the divine protections of all the subordinate gods would grant one the protections of the primary gods as well. He wasn’t very skilled when it came to transcribing texts, so he had mostly spent his time in the archive replicating maps.

Will visiting the shrines give me more elements? the prince wondered. Maybe he would be able to become the next Zent after all.

“Does this mean that, assuming I obtained every element through prayer and mana compression, Father would not stop me from getting my schtappe?”

Raublut nodded. “You certainly would do well to compress your mana and obtain new elements alongside the Zent. I will speak to him when the time is right.”

Hildebrand grinned from ear to ear; he knew from his long-term relationship with Raublut that the knight commander was being sincere. Arthur likewise smiled and thanked the man for his consideration.

“It was nothing special,” Raublut said, shaking his head and returning the smile. He then gestured to a nearby knight, who came forward and presented Arthur with a box. “Inside are new learning materials offered to us by Ehrenfest, namely books and toys designed to help with memorizing the names of the gods. They are apparently one of the secret reasons why the duchy’s grades rose so abruptly.”

Ehrenfest would now be selling the resources to other duchies, so copies had been offered to the royal family. The king had ordered that they be given to Hildebrand to help him with his studies, and the inspection of them had just recently concluded.

“Lady Magdalena said that we should wait until you enter the Royal Academy before giving them to you,” Arthur explained, “but there is no harm in getting a head start with one’s studies. Use these materials well; knowing the names of the gods is essential to the prayers you will need.”

Arthur then handed the prince an Ehrenfest book. Hildebrand was used to them by now. He thumbed through it and saw the most splendid illustrations alongside easy-to-understand explanations. Perhaps these resources would help him get closer to Rozemyne.

I’m going to learn the names of the gods, pray to them, obtain new elements, and ask Father for my schtappe.

Hildebrand was glad; at last, he had a path to follow. After wandering aimlessly through the darkness, someone had given him a light.

Raublut grinned and rose to his feet, sword in hand. “Now, Prince Hildebrand—let us resume our training and see if your blade is as straight as your gaze.”

“Right!”

After returning the book to Arthur, Hildebrand took up his own sword and chased after the knight commander.