Ascendance of a Bookworm (LN) - Volume 5.7 - Chapter 4

The First Week of Classes

Classes were due to begin tomorrow, so everyone had started studying desperately the moment we returned from the fellowship gathering.

“Because the change in classwork was announced in advance, we can expect the Drewanchel students to be a mighty foe,” Charlotte said while studying alongside her peers. “Let us strive to maintain our current rank.”

“Ehrenfest has been studying the old curricula for years,” Wilfried assured the others, taking the opposite approach to motivate them. “We don’t have much to worry about.”

Of the adults who had come to participate in the rituals, Damuel, Cornelius, Leonore, and Hartmut acted as tutors, looking after the first-years who hadn’t managed to secure enough study time. Angelica had instead opted to guard me, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t being helpful. Her stalwart presence allowed the apprentice knights to focus on their schoolwork, so she was indirectly assisting the students. It was the same as how her presence in the temple helped the other guards devote themselves to paperwork.

“Lieseleta, Angelica, I wish to return to my room to send a couple of ordonnanzes,” I said.

Together, we went to my room; I didn’t want to distract the others from their studies. My first ordonnanz was to Solange, asking to schedule the new students’ registrations, while the other was to Eglantine, apologizing for Hartmut and Cornelius’s argument and warning her that something unexpected was likely to happen during the Dedication Ritual.

In response, Solange told me to bring our new students at lunchtime two days from now. Eglantine asked me to stay behind after my next class with her to explain what I thought might happen.

How am I meant to elaborate? Her guess is as good as mine.

Everyone spent the next morning studying as much as they could, taking only a short rest for breakfast. Then they headed to their first classes.

This year, we fourth-years had written lessons in the morning and practical classes in the afternoon. Everyone passed the former without incident. Many duchies had seemed troubled about the changes to the curricula, but the top-ranking duchies had studied more than enough in preparation.

In the afternoon, we went to our brewing class. Our exam required us to make a rejuvenation potion of reasonably high quality... which I finished ASAP with the help of a time-saving circle. Compared to the paper Ferdinand wanted, it was so mind-numbingly easy to brew that I ended up needing to while away the rest of the lesson.

As I gazed around the room, I noticed that everyone was more experienced than before. In particular, several of the apprentice scholars were doing very well, most likely because they had so many opportunities to brew.

“You can pick out the apprentice scholars at a glance,” I said. “They look so much more skilled than everyone else.”

“But they were still unable to keep up with your advanced methods, even though you are an archduke candidate,” Hannelore remarked with a bemused smile while carefully cutting up some herbs.

“Oh, but Lady Hannelore, I happen to be a scholar as well. There is nothing strange about my experience with brewing.”

“Rozemyne, normal archduke candidates don’t make their own magic tools or rejuvenation potions,” Wilfried interjected. He had a death grip on his messer-transformed schtappe, while Hannelore was holding hers with an unsteady hand. Their lack of experience was clear to see.

“Still, even archduke candidates are required to brew their own engagement feystones,” I replied. “Lord Ortwin seems rather experienced. Perhaps you should work on your brewing skills instead of always focusing on gewinnen, dear brother. If you cannot even cut with adequate precision, how will you manage to spread your mana evenly?”

Wilfried grunted and stared at his transformed schtappe. Ferdinand wouldn’t hesitate to fail a brew based on how its ingredients were prepared.

The next day meant more written lessons, which we once again passed with flying colors. Perhaps because my retainers had taught them, even the first-years received fairly high scores.

This lunchtime, our new students were due to be registered at the library. I ate quickly, then immediately took them and my student retainers to meet with Solange. Of course, because the registration had nothing to do with the Dedication Rituals, my adult retainers stayed in the dormitory.

As we made our way down the halls, Bertilde approached me and said in a bright voice, “You really love libraries, don’t you, Lady Rozemyne? My sister told me the Royal Academy’s library has two shumils, one black and one white.”

I could guess that Brunhilde hadn’t been the only one to mention Schwartz and Weiss. Lieseleta and the others were always going on about how cute the shumils were.

“Yes, and they truly are adorable,” I replied, then turned to address everyone. “That said, take care not to touch them. There are protective measures in place to keep them from being stolen.”

I opened the door to the library with the pass Solange had sent me, then led everyone inside. As usual, she and the shumils met us outside the reading room.

“It has been some time, Professor Solange.”

“Indeed, Lady Rozemyne. I am glad to see you well.”

As we exchanged greetings, Schwartz and Weiss surrounded me. They were as adorable as ever.

“Here, milady.”

“Gone a long time, milady.”

“I am pleased to see you both,” I said with a smile. “Professor Solange, is Professor Hortensia in the office?”

Solange looked troubled as she said, “No, she is away at the moment. It would seem she took ill and is currently bedridden.”

“Is her room not here in the library?” I asked quizzically. I didn’t understand why Solange sounded so uncertain when they shared the same dormitory.

Solange slowly shook her head. “Hortensia’s husband sent her an order to return home midway through the summer. She hasn’t returned since.”

After the Archduke Conference, Hortensia had ended up with significantly less work to do. Thus, she had started commuting from home—at least until she received an abrupt summons from her husband, at which point she had stopped showing up entirely.

“She was perfectly healthy at the time,” Solange continued. “She sent word that she doubted she would return to the library anytime soon, and that was the last I heard from her. The most recent update I can provide came from her husband right before the term started. He said she had fallen ill at the end of autumn and would not be able to perform her duties as a librarian this winter.”

The snowy Royal Academy was anything but a good place to rest and recuperate. Letting Hortensia return to work would only make her even more unwell, so it was best that she take some time away.

“The end of autumn was quite a while ago, was it not?” I asked. “I sincerely hope she feels better and is only staying away from work to be safe.”

“Yes, truly. I am worried about her, but I cannot check on her at the start of the term when the library is so busy...” Solange said, wearing a sad smile now that she was once again the Royal Academy’s only librarian. “I will simply need to trust that she is going to recover soon.”

From there, she began registering the new students. I decided to take that opportunity to look around the reading room.

“Schwartz, are there any new books?” I asked.

“Here.”

Schwartz guided me toward a bookcase housing various new study guides. I glimpsed the door to the closed-stack archive along the way and remembered what Hortensia had said to Detlinde.

I still wonder what that whole “Schlaftraum’s flowers” thing was about... Ferdinand hasn’t sent me any updates since he told me he’d look into it.

He was probably too busy—and as that thought crossed my mind, Philine came to get me. The registrations were done.

“It was nice to see you,” I said to Solange. “I shall try to come again soon.”

“That sounds wonderful. There is a large-scale ceremony being held this year, I am told. It will test you, I am sure, but you have my full support. Please do return when you find the time.”

Overjoyed that she was encouraging me, I gave an enthusiastic “Right!” and went to leave. But before I could reach the door, Schwartz and Weiss stopped me.

“Mana, milady.”

“Hortensia gone.”

“Oh, that’s right,” Solange said. “They haven’t been supplied with mana since the start of the term. Lady Rozemyne, I don’t mean to impose, but could you replenish their reserves a little?”

I could guess that the feystone Hortensia had given Solange was depleted. As I stroked the shumils’ foreheads, an idea came to mind.

“Professor Solange, since Professor Hortensia is absent, it might be wise to petition the royal family for more support from the Library Committee. I plan to spend most of the term back in Ehrenfest.”

“That is an excellent idea. I shall contact Prince Hildebrand at once,” Solange replied, starting to brighten up. “Plus, it would seem that Hortensia’s husband is teaching him swordplay. He might know more about her condition.”

A wave of relief washed over me as I exited the library.

We had music as this afternoon’s practical class. Same as last year, we were asked to play a song chosen for us and a song of our choice. I’d spent some of my time at the temple practicing with Rosina, so I was able to complete the former without issue; but rather than giving me a pass, Pauline merely frowned.

“Is something the matter, Professor Pauline?”

“That will not do at all, Lady Rozemyne. Where was the blessing?”

“Um... I didn’t think that was part of the test...”

Since last year’s classes, I’d visited the shrines and upgraded my schtappe, so I didn’t need to worry about rogue blessings anymore. I couldn’t say that to her, but still—how were blessings relevant to a music lesson?

“Blessings appear when one plays in earnest, do they not?” she asked. “Refusing to give one simply will not do, especially when you hope to spread the value of religious ceremonies through your joint research with Klassenberg and Frenbeltag. So play again, this time with a blessing.”

Truth be told, I was completely baffled, but I channeled mana into my ring and sang a prayer. It was dedicated to the Goddess of Water, so the light of my blessing came out green.

“An excellent performance,” Pauline said with a satisfied smile. “Flutrane the Goddess of Water must be overjoyed.” She then gave me a pass... but I was starting to get very concerned.

Don’t tell me my whirling instructor is also going to expect a blessing.

Once the lesson was over, I returned to my room in the dormitory. My student retainers were studying in the common room, leaving only Lieseleta, Leonore, and Angelica with me. I consulted them about Pauline’s demand and expressed my concern that the same thing was going to happen during my whirling class.

“If your professor requests it, why not give a blessing?” Lieseleta asked. “Is that not better than having to desperately contain it?”

“I doubt it would cause you any trouble,” Leonore agreed. “Is there a problem?”

I cast my eyes down. “It just bothers me that she didn’t ask anybody else. I was the only one.”

Leonore was right that I could give out blessings with ease, but it still seemed unfair that my grade—and mine alone—had depended on it. I was already being singled out; this was just going to make things worse.

“Could she have done it deliberately to make you stand out?”

“Leonore?”

“By reinforcing the idea that you are special, the professors are making it easier for the other duchies to accept your adoption into the royal family.”

For a moment, I almost agreed with her suggestion—but then I shook my head. The royal family had said they would prepare the adoption in secret; why would they have leaked such sensitive information to the Royal Academy’s professors, who had deep connections to their home duchies and fed intelligence back to them?

“The royal family could easily be pulling the strings, asking them to draw attention to you under one guise or another. It seems safe to assume the professors haven’t been made privy to the real situation, considering how many duchies believe you are joining the Sovereign temple.”

According to Leonore, during their meeting about the Dedication Ritual, Eglantine had asked for me to perform all three ceremonies. Even more evidence that the royal family wanted to cement my reputation as somebody special.

“Furthermore,” Leonore continued, “as you are entering the royal family through abnormal means, this should minimize the jealousy and resentment you face. It’s better to have people understand why they chose to adopt you; otherwise, they’ll wonder why they weren’t chosen instead.”

Now that made sense.

“Well, as long as it’s for a good reason...” I said. “In any case, I think I shall do some reading before dinner.”

“One moment,” Lieseleta said, then held out a box. “Please check this first. I received it from Raimund, who was waiting for your classes to finish. It is a delivery from Lord Ferdinand and Lady Letizia. There are letters inside.”

The letters and everything else in the box had already been checked for anything dangerous. I opened it up and saw a tube with a string at the end, and small glass jars containing what appeared to be red, green, and yellow feystones.

“According to this letter,” Lieseleta said, “Letizia has shared with you a toy and some sweets she received from Lanzenave. The toy can only be used once, it says, but it does something beautiful. She wishes for Ehrenfest to enjoy it as well.”

Letizia had adored the sweets and meals I’d sent her, so she’d sent me some of the presents she’d received from Lanzenave. Ferdinand had told her I would appreciate them “as a lover of strange things.”

“As well as the correspondence from Lady Letizia, Lord Ferdinand included some details about Ahrensbach. If you are confident that you will score highly tomorrow, you may spend the time until dinner responding to them. Hartmut and the others will oversee the students.”

“I thank you ever so much, Lieseleta.”

She nodded, then started instructing the others as my head attendant: “Angelica, guard her door. Leonore, help Cornelius tutor the first-years.”

I put away my harspiel and study utensils, then took the box into my hidden room and started reading the letters. The jars containing what I’d assumed were feystones actually held colorful candies, while the tube was essentially a party popper that shot out pretty things when you pulled its string. Letizia described Ferdinand taking one of the toys and dissecting it.

Seriously? Don’t you ever take a break from being a mad scientist?!

Letizia went on to explain that she had given him the toy in exchange for a reduced workload. It was nice to know she hadn’t ended up in tears, at least. She was probably more used to dealing with Ferdinand now that they’d spent so long together.

“I wonder, what might the letter from Ferdinand say?”

He had written that Ahrensbach’s foundation had been dyed before the start of the current academic term and that he was registered with it so he could supply it with his mana. Letizia was also devoting mana, though she was relying on feystones while she got used to the process. The envoys from Lanzenave had apparently returned home at the end of autumn; then the border gate had been closed behind them.

Ferdinand concluded by saying he wanted to purchase the recipes for the dishes I’d sent.

“I don’t see anything about his Geduldh question. Maybe it wasn’t important after all...”

I touched the letter, but no hidden text appeared. On the one hand, I was glad that he hadn’t pressed me about it. But on the other...

This probably means he’s going to corner me at the Interduchy Tournament and ask me directly.

“Well, if that happens, I’ll just be frank with him: no matter how much I rack my brain, I can’t figure out what he wants from me. Why does he want to know in the first place? He really needs to explain these things!”

I gave a self-assured nod while I wrote my response. On the front, I thanked Letizia and said to Ferdinand, “Those recipes will not come cheap. I am looking forward to our negotiations.” Then I turned over the paper, readied my invisible ink, and penned a simple message: “You agreed to supply Ahrensbach with mana even though you haven’t yet had your Starbinding? Just what are you plotting?”

The next morning’s written lessons went as smoothly as ever. Then we had another brewing class, wherein we were told to create a synchronization potion—a concoction that made it easier to push one’s mana into something else.

Hirschur projected the brewing instructions on a white cloth at the front of the classroom, then cackled and asked us, “Does anyone know what this potion is used for?”

I answered at once, brimming with certainty. “It makes it easier for knights to synchronize with criminals and such when their memories are being viewed.” I’d consumed the very same potion when I had my mind peered into.

Hirschur gave me a very strange look. “Another... unusual example, Lady Rozemyne.”

“Um... does it have other uses?” I asked, tilting my head at her. It was then that I noticed the uncomfortable expressions on the other students’ faces. I could tell they wanted to mutter, “How doesn’t she know?” and “What’s she going on about?”

Hirschur heaved an exasperated sigh before giving me an answer. “This potion is most commonly used to help newly married couples dye each other’s mana. Were it only used in the circumstances you suggested, which require the permission of an aub, it would not be taught in a standard course at the Royal Academy.”

Eep! Ferdinand never told me that!

We were taught to make the potion because it would prove essential to us all in the future. I already knew how to brew it, thanks to Ferdinand... but I evidently hadn’t known its main purpose.

Ferdinand, you dummy! Teach me its normal use, not the weird one!

Still criticizing him in my head, I got straight to brewing. It was a potion that even laynobles could use, so making it was simple enough.

“Your brew is perfect,” Hirschur informed me once I was done. “But your earlier remark was still very bizarre.”

“Please blame my mentor for that,” I replied. “But in any case, why is a potion necessary for dyeing someone? And when exactly would you use it?”

Hirschur made a rare, troubled face and pressed a hand against her forehead. “That Ferdinand...” she groaned.

But since the others weren’t even close to finishing their brews, she played along.

“Let us begin at the start,” she said. “Nobles inherit their elemental affinities from their parents’ mana. You know this, I trust?”

“Yes. They also get the element of their birth season, right? The elements one has from birth are called aptitudes and can be checked using one’s baptismal medal. On the whole, it is easier to cast spells or brew with elements one has an aptitude for.”

Hirschur gave a satisfied nod. “Correct. Channeling mana into something does not immediately lead to mixing—the mana already inside will resist and repulse it. That said, there is minimal resistance between closely related family members. I expect you knew that as well.”

I remembered how much it hurt when Ferdinand poured his mana into me during the trombe hunt. My body had naturally resisted it, but he had exploited that to seal my wound. There was also the time when I touched the divine instrument Hannelore had used and attempted to channel mana into it so that I could make one of my own. Her mana had repelled mine, and we had ended up shrieking a little from the impact.

“That’s right,” I declared, overflowing with pride. “In fact, I have plenty of experience with it.”

Hirschur froze for a moment, blinked several times, then muttered, “You do...?” I must have said something strange.

“I shan’t ask any more questions, for both our sakes,” she eventually said. “The potion reduces the resistance one would usually feel and makes it easier to dye another’s mana. A beverage mixed with this potion is normally imbibed before a couple retires to the bedroom.”

To prepare their hearts for accepting another person’s mana, a man and woman getting engaged would trade feystones containing their own mana and wear their partner’s against their skin. Unlike charms, the stones would consistently leak mana.

“I see. That’s... interesting?” I replied. “Wait, hold on.”

Umm... Has Ferdinand dyed me with his mana, by chance?

Hirschur had more or less dismissed my suggested use for the potion, but he had definitely used one when peering into my memories. Maybe that explained why I’d been baptized with elements when Dirk hadn’t, even though we were both children with the Devouring who hadn’t inherited any from our parents.

Can I not get married anymore?! Like, mana-wise?!

“U-Um, Professor Hirschur... This may be a foolish question, but is the potion only ever used once? That is, once your mana is dyed, does it remain that way forever?”

My question was met with a look of complete exasperation. “Lady Rozemyne, what are you saying? Having one’s mana dyed somewhat through the use of a potion will not prevent it from eventually returning to its normal color. The new mana made within you always takes its natural form.”

Married couples would end up with exceedingly similar mana during their lovey-dovey stretch of nonstop dyeing—but when their honeymoon phase ended, their influence on one another would steadily fade. Once the wife became pregnant, it was best for the husband to regularly channel mana into her so that he would also influence the baby’s mana. That was probably one reason why it wasn’t a good idea to take another wife when one of them was already with child.

“I see... So one would simply have to wait. That is good to know.” Then, without a second thought, I asked, “How does one’s mana flow after they drink the potion?”

This time, Hirschur gave me an exceptionally displeased frown. She rubbed her forehead, then let out a heavy sigh and said, “Lady Rozemyne... Save such questions for Lady Elvira or Lady Florencia when you return home. Your appearance would suggest you are still too young to learn about such things, but I suppose you are at an age when you need to hear them.”

Aah, sex ed. I mean, she did say that couples take the potion before retiring to the bedroom. There’s bound to be some elaborate ceremony or another involved, as is always the case with nobles, but I get it.

I understood at once, but still—I probably shouldn’t have asked in the first place. Everyone in earshot was averting their gaze, clearly feeling awkward. Some couldn’t even muster the courage to come forward when they finished their brew.

S-Sorry... I’ll be more careful next time.

I returned to my table, where the atmosphere was just as uncomfortable.

“Rozemyne, how have you already experienced mana resistance?” Wilfried demanded. “Tell me who you experienced it with.”

“Hm? Lady Hannelore.”

“LADY HANNELORE?!”

A buzz ran through the class, and all eyes fell on Hannelore. She recoiled at the sudden rush of attention, then regarded me with anxious eyes. “Lady Rozemyne, I am unsure what you are referring to...”

“Don’t you remember? It was during our joint research, when we were discussing how to pass on divine instruments. I poured my mana into your instrument, then your mana repelled it.”

“Aah, then...” Hannelore replied with a smile, nodding her understanding. “You only channeled a tiny amount of your mana, and while it surprised me, my own was entirely unaffected. You may rest easy—that was not what Professor Hirschur meant.”

Everyone else went back to work, either grumbling or looking thoroughly disappointed. The spicy drama that had caught their attention had ended up being neither spicy nor dramatic.

“Rozemyne, you seriously need to work on how you phrase things,” Wilfried griped. “That was so misleading. You made it sound as if you drank a potion so that I could dye your mana.”

“Oh, I see...” I replied, looking back on the situation. Neither one of us wanted to spread a misunderstanding like that when our engagement was destined to be canceled.

Wait, why wasn’t he worried about his own mana?! Wasn’t one of those potions involved when Sylvester looked into his memories?!

That was when I realized something important—plenty of people in Ehrenfest had drunk that potion. It wasn’t just Wilfried and me.

“I sincerely apologize for misleading the class,” I said. “But in my defense, there are people all around me who have imbibed that potion. Was I not right to be worried about what might happen to their mana?”

“All around you?”

“I shan’t mention them by name, but there were quite a few children who used it between last winter and spring. Remember? It would concern me if that had a long-lasting impact on their futures, especially after their innocence was proven.”

“You make a good point...” Wilfried replied, then fell into thought.

“Plus, even though it was part of their jobs, the knights who had to synchronize with criminals had a heavy burden to bear...” I said, remembering how they had grimaced at their duty. Using the magic tool meant the flow of mana had been entirely one-sided, but it was still deeply unpleasant.

“You don’t need to worry about that kind of thing. The potion doesn’t last very long. At most, it would have taken a month for the influence to disappear entirely.”

“I see. So everyone’s mana is fine, then.”

Just a month? Hah! I was worried for nothing.

The thought that Ferdinand might have permanently dyed my mana had caused me to panic, but everything was fine. It was also good to know that Matthias and the others wouldn’t encounter any lasting issues as a result of their interrogators having dyed them.

I’d committed some embarrassing faux pas during my brewing class, but today was a new day. I attended my written lesson in the morning before heading to my archduke candidate class in the afternoon. There, I found a stand in front of my desk, which was right beside Hannelore’s.

“Hello again, Lady Hannelore.”

“I am always glad to be beside you in class, Lady Rozemyne. You are a fount of useful advice.”

As we exchanged pleasantries, Eglantine entered as our professor.

Hm...?

Her graceful, dance-like steps, gorgeous blonde hair, peaceful smile, and unfaltering orange eyes were all exactly as I remembered them... but there was something strange about her. She seemed so much prettier than before. Maybe it was her overflowing vigor or her relaxed posture. I couldn’t say for sure, but all eyes were naturally drawn to her.

“It is good to see you all again,” Eglantine said. “The models shall now be brought in.”

On cue, several assistants brought models into the room and set one down on each of our tables. A magic tool modeled after a foundation was nestled in pure-white sand, simulating a duchy.

Once we had all received models and the assistants had taken their leave, Eglantine directed us to dye the magic tools before us. Some of the students who had worked tirelessly to dye theirs last year pulled faces and muttered, “Again...?”

“Yes, indeed,” Eglantine replied. “We could not possibly ask you to sustain your box gardens outside of term time, so each year, you will need to redye them from scratch.”

This certainly was more mana-efficient, but the students who barely had enough mana to be counted as archduke candidates didn’t seem to care about that. They stared at their boxes in vexation.

“Anyone who hesitates to dye a magic tool of this size will never become an aub,” Eglantine said frankly. “A true foundation is larger, and considerably harder to dye and maintain.”

Archduke candidates strove to become aubs, so we really needed to be able to dye a model this small, but several of us were at a clear disadvantage. Under better circumstances, some of the people in our class—namely those from lesser duchies or from the mana-deprived duchies that lost the civil war—would have been demoted to archnobles, but their territories needed someone to supply them with mana.

“Now then—you may begin,” Eglantine announced.

I formed my schtappe, touched it against the magic tool, then started channeling mana into it. The white sand turned into dark earth, from which sprouts began to surface.

“You are as quick as ever, Lady Rozemyne. The next step for this term is to create registration feystones and a replenishment hall for the rest of the archducal family.”

“Understood.”

Only an archduke could create the registration feystones necessary for the replenishment hall. The room had a seven-person limit—there were only as many spots to offer mana as there were primary and supreme gods—but there was no limit to how many feystones one could make. Aub Drewanchel, for example, carried out tons of adoptions, and the duchy’s archducal family was filled with adults. I’d heard from Adolphine that it wasn’t common for minors to supply mana, but they were still registered in case the need arose.

It must be nice to have so many archduke candidates.

“Is something the matter, Lady Rozemyne?” Hannelore asked. “That is quite a stern look on your face...”

“Oh, no, I was just contemplating who can supply their foundation with mana. Truth be told, I envy duchies like Drewanchel that have such large populations. Discounting students, Ehrenfest’s archducal family comprises only three members.”

Hannelore’s expression began to cloud over. “That cannot be easy... Back in Dunkelfelger, my grandmother and grandfather are in good health, as are my uncles. If we include my father’s second and third wives, our immediate family alone contains more than seven adults. And now my brother has come of age as well.”

Next year, the second wife’s child would enroll at the Royal Academy. And they had plenty more underage archduke candidates.

“How I wish we also had such a rich population of elites,” I sighed.

“That said, if a middle duchy such as Ehrenfest is struggling with so few people, Ahrensbach must be in truly dire straits...”

I started. The only adults in Ahrensbach who could supply mana to its foundation were Georgine and Detlinde, who had just recently come of age. I supposed that Letizia could also help out, but she wasn’t even old enough to attend the Royal Academy.

Okay, fine. I’m still mad at them for working Ferdinand to the bone, but I can relate to them wanting all the help they can get. Like, a lot.

As I resisted the urge to let loose a miserable groan, I noticed that my mana had finished filling the box. The feeling was like my flowing blood being turned around and pushed back for a second.

“Professor Eglantine, I am done.”

“Then let us make the replenishment hall. Do you have a feystone ready?”

“Yes, and it is already saturated with my mana. I shall now turn it into gold dust. Will this fey paper suffice for the schematics?”

Because I’d studied under Ferdinand, I already knew what to do. I took out the tools I’d been instructed to prepare for class and went over the steps.

“Yes, it will,” Eglantine replied. “Draw this magic circle with your stylo.”

I turned the feystone I’d brought into gold dust, then glared at the magic circle I would use to make my replenishment hall. It was packed with the sigils of every god, which made it look terribly complex and agonizing to draw.

Can I not copy and paste this?

I tried “selecting” the magic circle with my fingers, but none of my mana came out to cover it. So much for that idea. As much as I adored my copy-and-paste spell, its uses sure were limited. I accepted defeat and got to work with my stylo.

Tch. Serves me right for trying to have some fun.

By the time I’d finished drawing the magic circle, Hannelore had finished dyeing her box. She was currently holding and channeling mana into her feystone, trying to turn it into dust.

“You made short work of that magic circle, Lady Rozemyne,” she observed.

“I would not say that,” I replied. “The process was time-consuming and very exhausting.”

She peered down at my circle. “You drew it exceptionally quickly and exceptionally well.”

It didn’t seem that good to me. From a distance, one could see that several of the sigils were somewhat deformed.

“Do you really think so?” I asked. “Ferdinand regularly scolded me for being slow and not properly balancing my sigils. They were always, in his words, ‘not beautiful enough.’ I doubt this would even receive a pass from him.”

In the case of complex spells, even a slight change in the positioning of the sigils could reduce the magic’s performance. Because this circle was drawn using a stylo, I’d needed to redo it again and again before Ferdinand was satisfied.

“That sounds even harsher than Mother’s tutoring...” Hannelore said, looking surprised. As it turned out, Dunkelfelger’s first wife was strict as well; I couldn’t help but give a little chuckle.

“Ferdinand may be a harsh tutor, but one can eventually figure out the limits of his expectations. From there, it becomes much easier—and quicker—to eke out a pass. You need only find those limits with your mother—and take care not to exceed them too much, lest the bar be raised even higher.”

Hannelore balked, then sighed. “You remain surprisingly at ease even under strict tutelage, I see...”

Hm? “At ease”? Not even close! Studying under Ferdinand is agony. I spend most of my time wishing I could read instead.

My studies were such hard going that I was seldom able to enjoy one of my books. But to everyone else, it seemed as though Ferdinand afforded me all the time in the world.

“Lady Rozemyne,” Eglantine said, “make your replenishment hall when you are ready.”

“Right.”

I used something similar to an entwickeln to create magic tools for supplying mana, then connected them to the foundation. By the time I was done, I’d made seven contribution feystones in total. I’d already made them once before during a tutoring session, so I was pretty sure there was nothing wrong with them.

That’s all, I guess?

I turned in my work, which Eglantine received with a wide-eyed stare. “This is quite wonderful,” she said.

Thanks to Ferdinand, I’d managed to complete my replenishment hall sooner than expected—but it was precisely because I pulled ahead of everyone else that annoying extra work such as the Dedication Ritual ended up being dumped on me.

“From here,” Eglantine continued, “I shall teach you how to make citizenry medals, as well as how to register and dispose of them. But we are out of time, so that can wait until next time.”

In the blink of an eye, my mood darkened. To “dispose of” someone’s medal was to bring about their immediate death. I was reminded of the executions Ferdinand had carried out in Hasse. Eliminating criminals who attempted to flee punishment, such as the former Giebe Gerlach, was a necessary evil, but it still didn’t feel right to me.

Remembering those executions makes me sick to my stomach...

In class, we would simply be registering medals with mana from feystones, then disposing of them all together. Had I not witnessed those harrowing events in Hasse, I probably wouldn’t have thought twice about this... but the sight of the crumbling feystones reminded me of that day. It sickened me and sent me into a depression for quite a while afterward.

It’s fine. They’re only feystones. There’s nothing to be scared about. Nothing at all.

The bell signifying the end of class then rang. As everyone busily cleared away their things and exited the room, Eglantine called me over with a smile. “Lady Rozemyne, would you mind staying a moment? There is something I wish to discuss with you.”

“Of course, Professor Eglantine.”

Wilfried and Hannelore also made to leave, though they shot me several concerned glances as they went. I waved them farewell; then, when the assistants had taken away the boxes, leaving only Eglantine and me in the room, I got straight to the point.

“So, what do you wish to discuss?” I asked.

“You said that something might occur during the Dedication Rituals, did you not? To what were you referring? I would ask for the details.”

That was almost verbatim how she had responded to my ordonnanz. I explained that I didn’t have any more information to give.

“So you know that something will occur but not what that something might be?”

“Indeed. As you know, the Grutrissheit requires prayer. One must create the necessary pillars of light, then pray at the Royal Academy’s various shrines.”

Eglantine nodded. The ivory slates in the underground archive also noted that one had to pray while circling the shrines here at the Academy.

“And,” I continued, “the chapel in the Farthest Hall is a place of prayer. I simply expect something to happen when everyone gathers together as part of the Dedication Rituals.”

“But nothing happened when we performed it last year,” Eglantine replied, a quizzical expression on her face. Sure, we’d seen a pillar of red light, but that wasn’t out of the ordinary here at the Royal Academy. I could only hope that this year’s rituals would be just as uneventful.

“Last year, the Sovereign temple refused to assist us. We also surrounded a chalice made from my schtappe instead of using the shrine’s magic tools, so none of our mana reached them. But now the Sovereign temple is going to help us and we intend to pray to the shrine.”

Not to mention, that Dedication Ritual had taken place before I’d circled the shrines and caused a giant magic circle to appear in the sky above. There were so many new factors to consider.

“If you still doubt me,” I said, “remember that something unusual occurred when the divine instruments were used for the Starbind Ceremony. I sent you that ordonnanz because I thought you might appreciate some time to prepare emotionally.”

Anastasius had outright told me that he preferred surprises he could prepare for. He had also said that something bizarre was bound to happen whenever I got involved, but that was neither here nor there.

Eglantine giggled. “I shall inform the Zent so that we may all prepare ourselves emotionally. That matter aside, a new archduke candidate from Klassenberg enrolled at the Royal Academy this year. She has not yet begun compressing her mana, so she means to attend the Dedication Ritual for mednobles. Lord Wilfried is leading that one, if my memory serves me.”

“Correct,” I replied with a smile. “I would not have managed to perform all three on my own, hence the proposal that my siblings share the burden.”

She smiled in turn—a warm smile, as if she were admiring something sweet. “There can be no mistaking how much your retainers care about you, Lady Rozemyne. During our meeting about the Dedication Rituals, two members of your entourage were very insistent about easing the burden on you.”

Eglantine went on to say that she wanted to invite Lady Gentiane and me to a tea party before the Dedication Rituals, then asked me to give the fresh-faced student my protection. That last part didn’t seem relevant to our joint research, but maybe I was under a misapprehension of some kind.

I could understand being asked to teach her about the Dedication Ritual, but why would a student from Klassenberg the First need protection from Ehrenfest the Eighth? Shouldn’t it be the other way around?

“Is there much I can do for her in my current position?” I asked. “Perhaps I could wait until my adoption, when my status will increase.”

“Come now, Lady Rozemyne. There is no need to complicate things. All you must do is invite her to a tea party and treat her with kindness.”

“Well, if you are sure...” I couldn’t imagine a tea party being too much of an inconvenience, assuming we could find the time for it.

Am I ever going to have time to research those magic tools for my library...? I can’t think of anything I want to do more, but, well...

“I am ever so glad you accept. Let us make our joint research a fruitful collaboration, Lady Rozemyne.”

I cocked my head at Eglantine. “Our joint research”? Yes, it was joint research between our duchies, but she wasn’t going to be involved, and my only role was to assist Klassenberg.

“I am unsure what you mean,” I said. “Is there something Klassenberg hopes to learn?”

“Hm?”

“I know nothing about their intentions. Moreover, Ehrenfest has no need to research the Dedication Ritual any further; we are performing these rituals only because the royal family and a greater duchy demanded our assistance. If there is a topic Lady Gentiane wishes to research, that is news to us.”

Eglantine didn’t respond; she merely covered her mouth in shock, which confused me even more. There was no mission statement for these Dedication Rituals, nor had there been any meetings other than the one spent scheduling them. I was at a complete loss.

“Last year,” I said, “I was informed that joint research stays within the realm of students and does not require the permission of aubs. However, this collaboration began with a request from your aub and only came to be because you insisted on it. Not even the meetings about the rituals have involved students.”

Eglantine looked at me with a start, but I was speaking the truth. Aside from Lady Gentiane, whom we had greeted during the fellowship gathering, I didn’t know a single Klassenberg student.

“How can we be expected to carry out research when the schedule for the Dedication Rituals was decided without us?” I asked. “We do not even know what they hope to discover.”

I didn’t mind participating in the Dedication Rituals to help the students obtain more divine protections, spread my knowledge of religious ceremonies, and increase the royal family’s mana capacity... but calling it joint research made no sense to me.

“There are many benefits to performing the Dedication Rituals,” I said, “so I wish Klassenberg the best with them. Be warned, though—while Ehrenfest will obey the demands of top-ranking duchies this year, once I am a princess, this one-sided joint research with Klassenberg will end. To be frank, I consider it a tremendous inconvenience that I must waste my Earthday carrying out a rote Dedication Ritual instead of dealing with more pressing matters.”

Just as Eglantine had intervened to make this happen, I would intervene to stop it. There was no point in Ehrenfest getting involved when it meant putting a burden on Wilfried and Charlotte and taking valuable time away from the students working hard to secure good grades.

“Does it not benefit Ehrenfest to contribute thusly to the royal family?” Eglantine asked. “Propping up Klassenberg is a fine way to prove your loyalty to Yurgenschmidt.”

Ehrenfest was a winning duchy now, so it was true that we needed to contribute to the country—but there was no obligation for us to help Klassenberg specifically. Plus, was my agreement to enter the royal family not enough? The last thing we needed was to be burdened even more.

“Lady Rozemyne, we cannot hold the Dedication Rituals without Ehrenfest’s support. We do not have anyone who could perform them.” She placed a troubled hand on her cheek. “If you consider it that great an inconvenience, then you should have informed me sooner.”

I met her gaze and shook my head. “By the time I was told about the rituals, they had already been set in stone. At no point was I consulted, so how could I have informed you? Besides, the moment you intervened, they became a royal decree, which is not something Ehrenfest can refuse.”

The royal family’s involvement meant this was no longer joint research between students. It was a peculiar arrangement, to say the least—and not one I was going to play along with.

“If Klassenberg intends to repeat the Dedication Ritual next year, then they should study ours closely and record the process. Perhaps that could be your research theme for this year.”

Wilfried and Charlotte had successfully learned to perform the ritual, and I’d heard that Melchior and the apprentice blues had done excellently during the Harvest Festival. Klassenberg had an entire year to prepare themselves. As long as they were motivated, they would manage.

“Lady Eglantine, please deliver a message to Aub Klassenberg for me,” I said. “‘If you dedicate yourselves for half a year, you will be able to perform the ritual yourselves.’”