Ascendance of a Bookworm (LN) - Volume 5.6 - Chapter 13

Letters from Ferdinand

“Well, I suppose it would make sense to read and respond to the letters sooner rather than later...” I mused to my retainers after dinner. “But I sent the box containing them to my library. Guess I’ll need to wait until tomorrow.”

“And the goods here that still need to be sorted through?” Ottilie asked, shooting a concerned glance at the boxes of cloth.

“My attendants may choose cloth that will suit me of each divine color. Then they can select some to be given to Florencia, Charlotte, Mother, and Aurelia.”

“You will need to host tea parties to distribute it. Do you have any dates in mind?”

“Hm? Tea parties...?”

In a shocking twist, such exchanges were best done in private. This was to prevent the recipients from comparing their gifts and then wishing they had gotten something else.

Ouch, this is annoying. I don’t want to hold a ton of tea parties just to distribute souvenirs!

“Ottilie, I do not have the time to select the cloth and then hold a tea party for each individual,” I said. “Please think of some other way we can distribute it.”

My retainers knew better than anyone that I was too busy with the handovers. They fell into thought, contemplating an alternative.

“I would not like to ask this of Florencia while she is pregnant,” I said, “but after we have put aside a few pieces for me, I could always entrust her with distributing the rest.”

Ottilie shook her head. “That would not be ideal. People would assume they were gifts from Lady Florencia. Considering faction politics and the balance of power, I would advise you to make it clear they are from you.”

In truth, I was fine with people assuming that the cloth was from Florencia. “I will not be here in a year’s time, so perhaps it would make more sense for her to take the credit. Her position is the most unstable of all, and the cloth should make it easier for her to reinforce her faction.”

Wilfried was fine with our engagement coming to an end; he had wanted to escape it so desperately that he had even told Sylvester he would give up on becoming the next aub. Charlotte and Melchior were fine with it as well, since it meant they had more options for their future. Indeed, according to Hartmut, Florencia was the one who would struggle most. Her power had only been secure because of her son’s engagement to me, and the support of the Leisegangs that would come with our marriage. Sylvester’s decision to take Brunhilde as a second wife wouldn’t have given her any cause for concern if everything had gone to plan.

Brunhilde was a similar age to me, so her children would never have been prioritized over a child born to Wilfried and me. That was why Florencia had welcomed her as the duchy’s second wife. But the cancellation of my engagement had turned everything on its head—the Leisegangs were going to side fully with Brunhilde, and if she had any kids, the chances of Florencia’s children becoming the next aub would plummet.

“Would you not also prioritize Brunhilde, a Leisegang and one of your retainers?” Ottilie asked quietly. “If your engagement to Lord Wilfried is being canceled alongside your adoption to the archduke, then your only connection to Ehrenfest is going to be through your blood relatives. That is, the Leisegangs.”

My retainers were patiently awaiting my answer. It would surely have an enormous impact on those who remained in Ehrenfest.

“I wish to strengthen Florencia’s and Charlotte’s positions,” I said clearly while looking over my retainers, most of whom were Leisegangs. I didn’t want Florencia to be any worse off, nor did I want Charlotte to be stifled when she was staying in Ehrenfest to act as a mediator for me. “Brunhilde sought to be the second wife so that she could unify the Leisegangs and stabilize the duchy. She does not want to threaten Florencia’s position. Thus, I will continue to support Florencia, the first wife.”

In a similar turn of events, Elvira had once been worried about Trudeliede destabilizing her position as the first wife, so I doubted she would criticize my decision.

After a short pause, Ottilie said, “Understood. We can give half to Lady Florencia, then you can keep the rest.”

“Wait, do I need that much?” I asked. I’d assumed that I would take only a small selection of each seasonal color.

She gave an impish smile. “Oh, do you not plan to give any to your hardworking retainers?”

The idea hadn’t even occurred to me, but she was right—it was better to reward my retainers for their hard work before Florencia. I selected a few pieces of cloth that I wanted to keep, then told my retainers to each pick one as well. Once they were done, I sent the rest to Florencia with a letter saying that she should give them to whomever she wished.

The next day, I went to my library with all of my scholars and guard knights, and with Gretia as my sole attendant. We would need to sort through the spices and seasonings—and also break for lunch and dinner—so Hugo and Ella were accompanying us as well. I’d already sent an ordonnanz to Lasfam informing him of our arrival.

“Welcome back, Lady Rozemyne.”

“Thank you, Lasfam. We have arrived to sort through the luggage that was sent here. Were the ingredients taken to the workshop? Furthermore, as per my ordonnanz, I wish to read some letters in the hidden room. If you could have a table and some writing utensils set up inside for me...”

“Everything has been prepared. As for the hidden room, we shall start getting everything ready as soon as you open the door.”

After watching the servants guide the chefs to the kitchen, I followed Lasfam to the workshop. The luggage had already been brought inside, as requested.

“Scholars, start sorting through these ingredients,” I said. “Be sure to follow Hartmut’s instructions. I would also ask my male knights to assist them; there may be boxes that Philine or Clarissa cannot lift on their own.”

It was a common occurrence that when I mobilized my scholars, I subconsciously included Damuel among them. I didn’t want to draw everyone’s attention to that fact now, so I was getting all of my male knights involved. Some of the containers were heavy, and some shelves were fairly high up, so they would have plenty to do.

“I am going to the hidden room to read my letters and write my replies,” I said. “In the meantime, finish sorting through and putting away the ingredients. I assume you are all familiar with the system we use.”

“Of course,” they replied. “You may count on us.”

My workshops in the temple and my library had both been set up by Ferdinand, so they were organized in the same way. Hartmut and Clarissa were proudly declaring that they had the layout memorized, so it seemed okay to leave everything to them.

I asked Gretia to fetch the letters from Letizia’s box, then went with Lasfam to my room on the third floor. “Because we are so short of time,” he said, “I plan to use this table and these utensils. Is that acceptable, Lady Rozemyne?”

“Certainly. There is no need to prepare new furniture.”

I opened the hidden room. Inside were several chairs, and the magic tool containing the highest praise that Ferdinand ever gave: “very good.” I didn’t really want anyone to touch the tool, so I took the bag in which it was stashed out of the hidden room while everything was prepared.

Once the table was ready for me, I asked Gretia to fetch the ink and paper brought from the castle, as well as the letters. I also had my invisible ink with me.

Perfect.

“Well, I am going to read,” I said. “Angelica will suffice as my guard. The rest of you can help with the sorting. I will summon you if you are needed.”

I entered the hidden room alone, then briskly read through Letizia’s letter. I was starting with hers because Sylvester had told me to respond to her as soon as I could. It definitely wasn’t because I expected the ones from Ferdinand to be full of complaints.

Letizia had apparently been delighted to receive a cute shumil that spoke messages from her parents—and while she had initially struggled to use the other shumil against Ferdinand, Justus had shown her the ropes.

“‘Thanks to Justus, I am now quite skilled at using the shumil.’ Hm... That’s kind of surreal to imagine.”

I could picture him calling out, “Now!” partway through a lesson, while Ferdinand watched them with a deep furrow in his brow. The thought actually made me snort with laughter. Ferdinand would probably frown even harder when he heard my voice say that he should be more generous with his compliments, but he would comply in the end. Of course, I would only ever watch this happen from afar; making my presence known would cause Ferdinand to vent his frustrations at me.

“Still, Lady Letizia must struggle without sweets...” I mused aloud. “Be more kind to her, Ferdinand.”

The letter said that her education had intensified after the conclusion of the Archduke Conference. She didn’t state the reason, only that it was absolutely necessary for Ahrensbach. And while she was still exhausted, she said that Ehrenfest sweets and her shumil magic tool were playing crucial roles in helping her get through it.

“Mm... She may need new kinds of sweets, then.”

I’d previously sent over bags of cookies and sliced pound cake so that Ferdinand wouldn’t even need to consider portion sizes when rewarding Letizia, but perhaps she would enjoy something that needed to be stored in the time-stopping magic tool, such as ice cream or tiramisu.

In any case, Letizia had written to say that she was extremely grateful—and when she had learned that Ferdinand was sending me some thank-you presents, she had decided to add a few of her own. She hadn’t actually known what to give me, so Justus had advised something that would expand my cooking options, such as spices or seasonings. They must have been on good terms.

Or maybe he’s just more approachable than Ferdinand or Eckhart...

“Let’s see... ‘As you might not know how to use seasonings that aren’t found in Ehrenfest, I have followed Justus’s advice and included some Ahrensbach recipes acquired from my head chef.’ Wow! Lady Letizia is such a good girl!”

I wasted no time looking over the recipes. They all required ingredients I’d never used before, so I couldn’t even begin to imagine what they might taste like. I would need to wait for Hugo and the others to make them for me, and I couldn’t wait.

Maybe I should give Lady Letizia some of the food we make with the spices and seasonings she sent us...

I wrote that I would be sending her new kinds of sweets to make her studying even a little bit more enjoyable, that I was glad she appreciated the shumils we’d given her, and that I would let her try some of whatever we made with the spices and such we’d received.

I couldn’t just ask Ferdinand to go easier on Letizia; even she understood that there was probably a reason he was being stricter with her education. At the very least, though, I would say that he needed to lower his requirements for giving out praise and commend his pupil more generously.

She might even need a sound-recording magic tool that says “very good” on demand.

After finishing Letizia’s letter, it was time to read the ones from Ferdinand. There were several—some full of praise and others full of criticisms, I presumed.

“Where to start...?”

My heart raced as I broke the first seal... and immediately saw a massive wall of criticisms.

To begin with, Ferdinand said that it was completely abnormal to negotiate with royalty for a mere fiancé to be given a hidden room, and that I must have been worrying too much to have felt compelled to bargain for his safety from Detlinde’s wrongdoings. He then explained why fiancés were seldom given a room of their own: because of my actions, the royal family had ordered Detlinde to share a room with Ferdinand—a man—before their marriage. It had made Ferdinand put his head in his hands, since he had been trying to keep as far away from her as possible.

Noooo! That wasn’t my intention! Not in the slightest!

To resolve the issue, they had both agreed that Ferdinand would receive a room in the western building instead of staying in the main building where the aub’s partner would normally live. But even then, Detlinde had refused to carry out the order straight away—for her safety’s sake, she had waited until right before the funeral, when the royal family were due to check whether their demand had been met. This had required Ferdinand to move while he was already busier than ever.

In the end, the room that Ferdinand received was the same one that Georgine had used as Ahrensbach’s third wife. Justus and Eckhart had performed so many checks for poison before allowing their lord inside that the other retainers had been put off.

But, well, I understand their concerns. Safety first.

According to the letter, after confirming that the room was free of poison, they had cleaned it with one massive waschen and then started the move. In the meantime, Ferdinand had been turning his new hidden room into a workshop.

“‘This room is farther from the office where I work,’” I said, reading the letter aloud. “‘It has also put me farther away from Georgine’s villa, which makes it harder for Justus to gather information. I could have lived just fine without a hidden room—though it is true that I wished to obtain one sooner rather than later, so I will overlook your...’ Wait, but he just spent an entire page complaining at me! He isn’t overlooking anything!”

I scowled and grumbled at the letter. It seemed that “overlook” was another word I would need to discuss with Ferdinand.

“‘On a related note, I feel more at ease sleeping in my hidden room than in my bed, so I would like a bench or sofa. As I recall, the one I used during the Interduchy Tournament was exceedingly comfortable.’ Uh, that was the bench he gave me, wasn’t it? The one he said would support me in his place. Is he asking for it back? Or is he ordering another one?!”

It was clear that Ferdinand wanted to enjoy his hidden room to its fullest, but I could sense that he was on the verge of staying inside for good. I would need to consult Eckhart and Justus before I sent the bench to Ahrensbach.

As well as the letter about the hidden room, there was an entire report about Ahrensbach’s factions, focused on the presence of Lanzenave. He had presumably written it before the funeral.

After being informed of the king’s refusal to accept the Lanzenave princess, the country’s representatives had apparently launched into a sob story about their circumstances. Detlinde had sympathized with them, which had resulted in a troublesome situation indeed.

Detlinde had apparently tried to arrange a forum between Lanzenave and the royal family during the funeral. To make matters worse, she had started pushing for feystones to be given to Lanzenave for free during the height of our own mana crisis, thereby interfering with international trade. So dangerous was her behavior that Ferdinand had shouted at her—but rather than reflecting on her misdeeds, she had screamed, “You don’t love me at all!” before fleeing to the estate where Lanzenave’s representatives were staying.

“‘Nobody who saw her outburst was able to comprehend where it had come from. As a fellow eccentric, do you perhaps have any idea...?’ Wait, whaaat?! How am I supposed to know?!”

That aside, the letter made one thing clear: Detlinde was rampaging all over the place. She had taken such a liking to the king of Lanzenave’s grandson that she had been more or less glued to his side. This had given Ferdinand more time to focus on his duties, which was good... but it had also caused his workload to balloon to incomparable heights.

“Lady Detlinde is going to be the next aub, isn’t she? This seems kind of bad...”

Georgine was now engaged in a valiant battle to stop her daughter from spending all of her time with Lanzenave’s envoys in their guest villa. According to the letter, it was a common sight to see her dragging Detlinde back to the castle.

It was because of Detlinde’s brazen, shameful behavior that Letizia’s education had needed to be intensified. The factions of Ahrensbach’s castle were all coming together to make Letizia the next aub as quickly as possible.

Mm... So I guess Detlinde’s actually doing a good thing. Unintentionally.

The third—and last—letter from Ferdinand had been written after Sylvester’s arrival in Ahrensbach. In it, he spoke only about the fey paper I’d sent him. He said that our samples had been of a much higher quality than he’d expected, and that he’d suffered a splitting headache when he saw how much mana our “extremely inefficient” recipe required. He hadn’t even known what to give me in exchange for such a mana-intensive magic tool.

“‘For the above reasons, I improved upon your recipe without delay. Use my version to brew some more paper, then send me the results.’ I did wonder why he’d pulled those all-nighters, but to think it was because of my recipe! You’re such an idiot, Ferdinand. Was it really that urgent?!”

I understood why he’d worked so hard—asking for three hundred sheets of maximal-quality fey paper was pretty unreasonable, so he’d wanted to allow me to start brewing them as early as possible—but still... That wasn’t a good enough excuse for him to have pushed his body well past its limits before a funeral, of all things.

“And all those boxes he sent me were just ingredients for this new recipe! That can’t count as a gift, can it? Ngh... Curse you, Ferdinand. Couldn’t you have at least said that you appreciated my crazy decision to petition royalty to get you a hidden room, and that you had so much fun brewing that you couldn’t stop?!”

His letter contained so many irrelevant, thoroughly detailed ramblings about random ingredients unrelated to the recipe that I could tell he had been having the time of his life. Would it really have been so hard for him to admit that?

As for the new and improved paper recipe, it was written on the back of the letter in invisible ink. I touched the text to make it shine, then began transcribing it for Hartmut and Clarissa.

“Hm...?”

As I reached the end of the page, I realized that the very last sentence wasn’t part of the recipe. I set down my pen and stared at the words.

“‘Please tell me your Geduldh’?”

I couldn’t figure out what he meant. Was my Geduldh supposed to be my hometown, or was it something else entirely? How was I supposed to respond? And on that note, how would he react to my answer? The more I thought about it, the more it confused me.

Maybe this was about my scheduled departure from Ehrenfest. Or maybe the other duchies’ actions during the Archduke Conference had made Ferdinand assume that I was becoming the Sovereign High Bishop. I was racking my brain for a hint of some form... and then his face came to mind. He was wearing a silent expression, devoid of emotion. His light-golden eyes stared into mine, and in a chilly voice, he asked a single question:

“Do you wish to rule, Rozemyne?”

Back when he’d asked me, I’d said that my only desire was to read. But now I wasn’t so sure. My feelings had changed now that Ferdinand was living in Ahrensbach and under constant threat.

“To save you, Ferdinand... I wouldn’t mind obtaining the Grutrissheit and becoming queen.”

I’d already acted without consulting him. I was a Zent candidate now, and my aim was to become a princess and acquire the Grutrissheit before the next Archduke Conference.

I wonder what he’d think about that...

Just imagining his reaction was scary enough, and it stopped me from answering about my Geduldh. I wrote around the question instead, then exited my hidden room.

“We need to brew three hundred sheets of fey paper according to this new recipe from Ferdinand,” I announced.

Making this paper would most likely be my final interaction with Ferdinand. I wouldn’t be able to brew for him after my adoption, and we wouldn’t even be able to exchange letters once I was engaged to Sigiswald. My days spent freely were becoming fewer and fewer, but I wanted to help Ferdinand while I still had the chance.

I’ll give my answer once I’ve finished the paper.