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

Rozemyne’s Disappearance and Return

“Prince Sigiswald,” Rozemyne said to me, “I must go up to the second floor for a moment to supply a magic tool.”

We had just finished the first of the Royal Academy’s Dedication Rituals, and now I was about to observe the donation of yet more mana to the library. Rozemyne had some business to attend to upstairs—she had climbed up to the second floor with her retainers, following the guidance of the shumil magic tools—so I moved to the first floor’s reading room for the time being.

The library’s storage room for magic tools was cramped. At the very least, it had not been designed to accommodate royals and archduke candidates with their crowds of attendants. Not all of my retainers were able to enter with me.

“For someone who has classes to focus on, Rozemyne certainly does supply the library with an abundance of mana,” I observed.

“Indeed,” Solange replied. “If not for her generous donations, it might have fallen into disuse by now. I am ever so grateful to her.”

We were discussing Rozemyne’s role here at the library when a minor clamor was heard on the floor above us. Cries of surprise reached us, drawing my attention upstairs, only to fade a short while later.

Soon enough, two blue-robed individuals returned to us. One was Hartmut, the High Priest of Ehrenfest. The other I did not know. As they both knelt before me, Hartmut made a regretful appeal.

“Prince Sigiswald, my sincere apologies, but Lady Rozemyne has asked to be given some reading time. The ceremony has now concluded, and today is Earthday—under normal circumstances, this would be her day of rest. Klassenberg and the Sovereign temple will take charge of the cleanup while I perform final checks as High Priest. Might I ask you to grant my lady’s request for a brief reprieve?”

Rozemyne had come to the library on business—and with a prince, no less—so I struggled to believe she had dropped everything to read. It was true that she had a shockingly rude tendency to block out the rest of the world once absorbed in a book, but she possessed at least a modicum of reason before picking one up. Something must have happened—something they did not wish to mention in front of Solange and my retainers.

“I shall permit Rozemyne to read,” I said. “In return, I must ask you to accompany me to the Farthest Hall to perform the final checks.”

“Understood. Damuel, take care of the rest here.”

The other blue priest—Damuel—nodded and returned upstairs.

After gathering my retainers and saying farewell to Solange, I exited the library with Hartmut. We had just started toward the central building when I gave him a sound-blocking tool and said, “Now then, what happened to Rozemyne?”

“She vanished while supplying mana.”

I swallowed the urge to ask what madness he was spouting and smiled. “She vanished, did she? Is there nothing more you can tell me?”

“The two shumils claimed she was taken to ‘Gramps.’ I asked for more information, since I did not recognize the name, but they told me only that he is someone old and powerful. Does the royal family know any more about him?”

Hartmut was looking ahead of us and wearing a smile so as not to arouse my retainers’ suspicion, but his emotions were thoroughly disturbed; I could sense an overwhelming enthusiasm bubbling within him. He did not seem to be lying. In the first place, he had no reason to lie to a member of the royal family.

“Do you know when Rozemyne will return?” I asked. “Did the magic tools say anything?”

I would not normally have cared about such a tale, but Rozemyne was special: she had agreed to join the royal family in the spring and obtain the Grutrissheit for me. That we had lost track of her was immensely problematic.

“I do not,” Hartmut replied. “She might be gone for days, or she might have already returned. In any case, Ehrenfest would rather this matter be kept secret. We intend to claim that Rozemyne collapsed from exhaustion shortly after the Dedication Ritual and that she is currently bedridden.”

“I shall inform only my father of what truly happened to her,” I said. “We will preserve your secret until next Earthday.” If she remained missing for over a week, we would need to hold a family meeting. She was that important to us.

Hartmut thanked me, evidently relieved to have been given more leeway.

By the time we arrived at the auditorium, the Sovereign temple had finished cleaning up. I got to work sealing the Farthest Hall while Hartmut looked around as a representative of the nobles.

That night, I told my father about Rozemyne’s disappearance and Ehrenfest’s intention to disguise it as a bout of illness. He sighed in response, a frown creasing his brow; we did not have enough information to come to any decisions.

“If she really could return at any moment, then it would be wise not to cause a stir,” he said. “We shall act as Ehrenfest desires.”

We concluded our discussion by agreeing that if she did not return by the following Earthday, the date of the mednoble Dedication Ritual, we would gather with the rest of the royal family to discuss her disappearance.

An entire week had passed. Still, Rozemyne was nowhere to be seen.

My first course of action was to speak with Hildebrand, who was eager to participate in his first religious ceremony. I gave him clear instructions to ask Ehrenfest about Rozemyne’s health. Then I told Anastasius and Eglantine that I wished to speak with them after dinner. Eglantine had given birth to a girl at the end of autumn and was already overburdened, so allowing her a chance to eat first seemed wise.

Nahelache had given birth to a son during autumn last year when she was still my first wife. Eglantine’s pregnancy had come to light half a year later as the result of a most bizarre occurrence during the Archduke Conference; while praying at one of the shrines, she had received a message from a divine voice informing her that she was with child. It had instructed her to stop praying—for she was expending her mana and placing a burden on her body—and then returned the mana she had given up in the form of a blessing.

Great care had been taken to keep Eglantine’s pregnancy a secret, but the revelation had thrown the royal family into disarray. Her mana duties had subsequently been given to Nahelache, who had completed the minimum amount of nursing for her child, and Adolphine, to whom I was now married. She had also been forbidden from circling the shrines so that she could pour mana into her child.

To keep the birth of her new child a secret, Eglantine was still carrying out her professorial duties at the Royal Academy. She was receiving some support from Nahelache, who was teaching a few grades in her stead, but her postpartum aches meant she was still struggling with her workload.

Nonetheless, Eglantine had ardently wanted a child; I considered it only natural that she should need to work hard. Nahelache had needed to welcome Adolphine as my first wife while carrying my firstborn son; then she had needed to hurry back to her administrative duties because of Eglantine’s pregnancy. I would not listen to Anastasius’s complaints about his wife having too much on her plate.

In truth, I wished that Eglantine and Anastasius had waited for Adolphine and me to have a son before conceiving a child of their own. At the very least, I thought, they should have waited for Rozemyne to join the royal family and obtain the Grutrissheit. Then we might have had more royals available to supply mana.

It certainly is worth celebrating the royal family’s growth, but Father is much too soft.

If not for the abundance of mana we were securing this year by holding multiple Dedication Rituals and the revelation that Rozemyne was close to obtaining the Grutrissheit, Eglantine’s pregnancy would not have been good news. If nothing else, I was relieved she had given birth to a girl. Aub Klassenberg was already doing everything in his power to increase his duchy’s strength, so if she had given birth to a boy instead, he probably would have pushed to make Anastasius the next king.

The royal family was weak without the Grutrissheit—but in an era that had no Grutrissheit at all, we were forced to put on airs nonetheless. If Eglantine truly wished to halt Klassenberg’s ambitions and bring stability to Yurgenschmidt, it would have made more sense for her to postpone having a child.

Though I recognize that this is almost entirely Anastasius’s fault, how can I not blame Eglantine too? She was the only one who could have stopped him.

Over dinner, Hildebrand reported on the day’s Dedication Ritual. The divine instruments had indeed shone, but the flow of mana hadn’t been strong enough for the statues wielding them to shoot out pillars of the seven divine colors as they had with Rozemyne. Hildebrand was making his disappointment perfectly clear, but he was still glad to have finally taken part in a ceremony.

Once we had eaten, Anastasius and Eglantine joined us. We royals cleared the room of our retainers and took hold of sound-blockers; then I informed everyone of Rozemyne’s disappearance. I conveyed that she had abruptly vanished on the library’s second floor and that, according to the two shumils, she had gone to see someone called “Gramps.”

“What?” Hildebrand asked, his eyes widening. “Rozemyne isn’t actually bedridden?”

I shook my head. “Ehrenfest asked us not to cause a stir. Speaking of which, what did they say during today’s ceremony?”

“Nothing out of the ordinary... They told me that Rozemyne was still unwell and that they appreciate our concern.”

In other words, they intended to continue lying about her disappearance.

“Eglantine, how was the Royal Academy?” I asked. “Did anyone there know the truth about Rozemyne’s absence?”

“No, I do not believe so. Everyone merely accepted that she was once again bedridden. Well, except for Professor Fraularm, I suppose. She was quite adamant that such a prolonged bout of illness was abnormal.”

Who was Fraularm again? I searched my memories and recalled one professor who was particularly hostile toward Rozemyne. Ahrensbach could do to send us more respectable teachers.

Though the same goes for Ehrenfest.

I was also reminded of Hirschur and her unilateral focus on research, which in turn reminded me of the Sovereign nobles we had sent back to Ehrenfest. It was a duchy we knew shockingly little about—our divergent perspectives made it hard to tell what they were thinking—but we would most likely obtain some valuable intelligence this year.

Eglantine continued, “Lady Rozemyne’s absence has not caused any notable changes within the Royal Academy. Certain individuals are more worried than others and even sent personal letters of concern, but she was sickly to begin with and tended to hurry back to Ehrenfest as soon as she was finished with her classes. Her absence seemed normal, if anything.”

Lady Rozemyne was a strange honor student; she skipped so many classes that it was more unusual to see her attend one. Some students rarely ever saw her.

“Though many duchies are attempting to socialize with Ehrenfest to meet her, once again, Lord Wilfried and Lady Charlotte are the only ones participating.”

It truly was a year like any other—and despite the circumstances, Ehrenfest’s students were largely unaffected. Over a week had passed since one of their archduke candidates disappeared, yet they seemed fairly nonchalant.

“We should discuss our next move in the event that Rozemyne does not return,” Father said, looking downcast. The royal family was currently acting on the assumption that she would obtain the Grutrissheit for us, but if our plan fell through, we would need to change our approach.

My father and I lacked the divine protections of the primary gods, meaning we would need to circle the small shrines and pray. This was much easier said than done, however. Zent candidates of the past had used the entirety of their time at the Royal Academy to accomplish such a feat, whereas we would need to balance it alongside our usual work. Furthermore, the smaller shrines had been made not by a Zent but by a historic figure who had wished to help those lacking elements to reach certain gods. As a result, some were broken, some contained only statues, some were hard to find, and some seemed not to have been made at all.

Father had obtained the protections of several subordinates by repeating the protections ritual, but I had obtained only two.

On top of that, I will not be able to reach the Grutrissheit without circling the larger shrines.

My situation made me appreciate what great heights Rozemyne had managed to reach. She truly was extraordinary. That she had managed to create seven pillars of light during her Dedication Ritual without even breaking a sweat was enough to make one’s head spin.

“Eglantine,” Father said. “In the case that Rozemyne does not return, you will need to begin circling the shrines as soon as you are no longer required to personally feed your baby.”

“Father,” Anastasius protested at once, “that is too great of a burden to place on Eglantine, and Klassenberg—”

I raised a hand to stop him. “Now that we can finally see a path to the Grutrissheit, are we not obligated to follow it? If we are unfortunate and Rozemyne does not return by the melting of the snow, we will need to take matters into our own hands. Eglantine is the only one among us who is already omni-elemental.”

“Perhaps, but she has just given birth,” Anastasius said scathingly.

Father gazed at him for a moment, then gently shook his head. “If we do not know Rozemyne’s whereabouts by the end of the Archduke Conference, I will command Eglantine to take action. By that point, she will not need to personally nourish your daughter. You would also do well to remember that Nahelache returned to work early to support her. Now, that debt must be repaid. It will be Eglantine’s duty as a member of the royal family to circle the shrines.”

“I shall do as you ask, Zent Trauerqual,” Eglantine replied with a nod and a smile. “That said, I do hope Lady Rozemyne returns soon. I would find it terribly sad if another student came first-in-class this year.”

If she did not return to class, her three-year streak would come to an end. The very thought was unfortunate. Even now, I could remember the proud smile she had given when attending the awards ceremony for the first time last year.

“If she does not return before the Dedication Ceremony for laynobles, then let us speak with Ehrenfest,” I said. “We will need to discuss their plans moving forward and what they wish to do about Rozemyne’s classes. That duchy is strange enough that I sincerely doubt we would ever be able to guess their intentions.”

Anytime we acted according to normal noble standards, they treated it as bothersome. Even now, I did not have the slightest idea of what they wanted us to do. Rozemyne was soon to become a royal, but she and Ehrenfest would end up being unknown elements within our family. Even trying to give her orders would be complicated, considering that she was the one due to obtain the Grutrissheit. It would take a lot of very cautious trial and error for us to figure out how to navigate the situation.

Must I marry her...?

Rozemyne was pretty and overflowing with mana, and she was a Yurgenschmidt noble... but try as I might, every attempt I made to reach a mutual understanding with her ended poorly. Not even her temple upbringing could explain her uncanny and quite simply bizarre nature; there was something fundamentally unique about her way of thinking. Her culture, as it were, was nothing like those of the country’s nobles and the Sovereign temple. Facing her down in private had made that more than clear to me.

At this point, I could only agree with Anastasius that Rozemyne could not be given power; Yurgenschmidt would inevitably descend into chaos.

The laynobles’ Dedication Ritual came and went, but there was still no sign of Rozemyne. It was finally time for us to meet with Ehrenfest, so we invited all the blue-robed nobles who had participated to a tea party ostensibly celebrating their contributions. Because we had extended invitations specifically to the blue-robes, although Rozemyne’s retainers and Ehrenfest’s archduke candidates were invited, Klassenberg’s students were not.

Rozemyne’s retainers, now wearing noble attire rather than blue robes, entered the room behind Wilfried and Charlotte. Their group comprised Hartmut, Cornelius, Leonore, Angelica, and four students. They seemed tense about participating in an event hosted by royalty but exuded neither concern nor anxiety.

We performed our greetings, demonstrated that nothing was poisoned, and then used an area-affecting sound-blocker so that we could start discussing Rozemyne.

“She has been missing for quite some time,” I said. “Are you not worried? Ehrenfest must be suffering in her absence.”

“Of course we are worried,” Wilfried replied. “But Ehrenfest has been preparing to function without her for over half a year now; her absence is not troubling us as much as you might imagine.”

By cutting through the euphemisms, one could easily deduce what the boy was trying to say: as far as Ehrenfest was concerned, this “Gramps” person’s decision to steal away Rozemyne was no less troublesome than the Sovereignty’s attempts to do the same. My first thought was to interpret this as a sharp critique of the royal family... but knowing Ehrenfest, perhaps he had meant something else entirely.

Conversing with Ehrenfest is anything but straightforward...

“Though her long absence is a cause for concern,” Hartmut said, “our knowledge that she is well keeps us from fretting too much.”

His peers all wore rigid smiles, but not a single one of them spoke out in protest. It was terribly strange. The royal family was genuinely considering the possibility that she might have died.

“How can you say that so confidently?” I asked.

“I am able to feel my lady’s mana,” he replied with a smile. “And if she had climbed to the towering heights, I would already have gone with her.”

Out of the blue, I remembered one of the terms of Rozemyne’s adoption: her name-sworn would go with her, whether they were underage or not. And judging by what Hartmut had just said...

He gave her his name, then?

Under normal circumstances, one would never disclose such information—but Hartmut had casually announced that he was under the influence of Rozemyne’s mana and was even gazing appreciatively at the feystone ornament hanging from his neck. It was adorned with Rozemyne’s personal crest, which was present on the last page of every Ehrenfest book.

Hartmut continued: “I do not know Lady Rozemyne’s location, but I can feel her mana growing stronger by the day—and at a shocking rate, might I add. It is because we know she is in good health that we can carry on with our lives.”

Will this Hartmut be accompanying her to the Sovereignty? He revels so openly in the bliss of her mana... The number of known eccentrics in Ehrenfest only increases by the day.

Everything else aside, Ehrenfest was sticking to its story that Rozemyne had taken ill. They were telling anyone who asked that she had been sent back home out of concern for her health.

“If possible, we would ask the professors to hurry Rozemyne through her remaining lessons when she returns,” Wilfried ventured. “Any excuse will do. We would also be grateful if you could let her stay in the Royal Academy beyond the winter months.”

I nodded. That would always have been necessary now that she was joining the royal family.

“Wilfried, there is something I must ask you,” I said. “The upcoming adoption will result in the cancellation of your engagement to Rozemyne. How do you feel about that?”

“I consider it an inevitable development. And to be frank, I was ill-suited to be Rozemyne’s fiancé in the first place. You are a better match for her than I, Prince Sigiswald.”

He did not seem at all perturbed that his engagement was being canceled. One could assume he was wrestling with more conflicted emotions on the inside, but it was an excellent display of self-control.

“Incidentally...” he continued, “if you would permit me to make a suggestion, I would advise that you start crafting charms as soon as possible. Rozemyne wears so many for protection that, if you do not start soon, you will most likely struggle to replace them before the engagement.”

That brought to mind two incidents when Rozemyne’s charms had unwittingly been activated, once by Rauffen and another time by an Immerdink student. Considering that she would soon have the Grutrissheit in her possession, more charms would absolutely be necessary to protect her.

I thanked Wilfried with a cup of tea.

In the end, Rozemyne did not return in time for the Interduchy Tournament or the graduation ceremony. Ortwin was made first-in-class in her absence, which naturally caused a stir among the duchies.

Even now, Ehrenfest held to their story that Rozemyne had merely fallen ill. Fraularm had continuously screeched that they were lying and that Rozemyne had in truth ascended to the distant heights, so she had ultimately been plucked from the Interduchy Tournament, relieved of her teaching role, and sent back to Ahrensbach. Thus was the unanimous decision made by a committee of professors at the Royal Academy.

On a whim, I ended up visiting the library the day after the graduation ceremony. I found myself concerned about whether the magic tools Rozemyne had tended to remained well. If no one supplied them with mana over the winter and Solange had to rely on feystones from the Dedication Ritual, they would surely run out during the spring.

“I thank you ever so much for your concern, Prince Sigiswald,” Solange said once I was done. She also informed me that Hildebrand and Hannelore had been working hard as Library Committee members and that Wilfried and Charlotte had delivered some mana-filled feystones since my last visit. Her reassurances calmed the nagging voice in my head.

Satisfied that the library was in safe hands, I decided to return to my villa. But as I stepped out of the librarians’ office and passed the door to the reading room, I paused. It was here that Rozemyne had disappeared.

To avoid arousing any suspicion, I’d decided not to inspect the second floor on the day Rozemyne had vanished; more students had been visiting the library at the time, and the appearance of a prince would doubtless have caused a stir. But with the graduation ceremony now over, there wouldn’t be anyone around today. I entered the reading room and climbed the stairs on the left.

Ehrenfest capes?

To my surprise, I wasn’t alone; three individuals wearing dark-yellow capes were at the back of the reading room. Perhaps the magic tool that Rozemyne had supplied with mana was also nearby.

“Prince Sigiswald...?” one of the three said. It was Ferdinand, the man for whom Rozemyne had cast aside all conventions. He must have been here because he knew she was missing, not ill.

“Worried about Rozemyne, I presume? It certainly has been a long time.”

“Truly... Might I ask what brings you here?”

“The same as you, I would imagine—I came to inspect the magic tool Rozemyne was supplying at the time. I could not come before when there were so many students around.”

In truth, it was convenient that Ferdinand was here; I was aware that Rozemyne had disappeared while supplying mana to one of the magic tools on the library’s second floor, but that was all. I decided to start by asking which tools could even be found here.

In response, Ferdinand detailed every single one. Including those big and small, there were more than ten in total. I did not know which one Rozemyne had been supplying at the time of her disappearance, and as Ferdinand now lived in another duchy, it seemed safe to assume that he was equally unsure.

I gave Ferdinand my thanks, then turned to leave. I only made it a few steps before an exhausted murmur stopped me in my tracks.

“Rozemyne, you always find a way to ruin my plans...”

Ferdinand spoke in a low voice, but his words rang out clearly—perhaps due to the emptiness of the room. When I turned around, I saw him glaring at a statue of Mestionora with a book in her arms.

Once the students had all returned to their duchies, knights were put in place for the purposes of communication and dormitories were shut. Ehrenfest alone sent a request to keep their dormitory open; they wanted two attendants—Lieseleta and Gretia—two knights, and a chef to stay at the Royal Academy so that they could tend to Rozemyne when she returned.

And a few days later, it happened. I received an ordonnanz from my father just as I was finishing dinner.

“Sigiswald: Hildebrand received a message from Ehrenfest. They want us to open the Farthest Hall. Hildebrand insists on going, so I must ask that you accompany him.”

No sooner had the bird concluded than I rose from my seat, recalling Magdalena’s concerns about her son’s attachment to Rozemyne. I responded to my father, then sent messages to Hildebrand and Ehrenfest, telling them to meet me at the auditorium.

Upon my arrival, an attendant carrying what appeared to be some cloth approached me. “I am Lieseleta, Lady Rozemyne’s head attendant,” she announced. “My sincerest apologies for troubling the royal family at this late hour, but my lady has appeared in the Farthest Hall. If we had sent a standard petition, she might have been stuck in there for days...”

The moon hung resplendently in the sky, fighting back some of the darkness, but it was still much too late to call on the royal family. Lieseleta had decided to anyway—and in truth, she had made the right call.

“Our convenience is trivial in the face of such news,” I said. “Let us hurry.”

“Sigiswald, may we open the door now?”

“Be calm, Hildebrand,” I replied. He was making his excitement much too obvious.

At my order, the door to the auditorium was unlocked. We hurried through it, shrouded in darkness, hearing only the sound of our footsteps, until we reached a feystone at the back of the room. I touched it, opening a second door, and then passed through an iridescent film into the Farthest Hall.

“Rozemyne...?” I said, inhaling sharply.

Amid the moonlight streaming in through the room’s narrow windows, I could see a figure resembling Rozemyne holding a glowing tablet. She looked almost magical, to the point that I struggled to perceive her as a being of our world.

Her hair as dark as the night sky was wrapped around an unforgettable hair ornament bearing rainbow feystones. She turned to peer at us with eyes as golden as I remembered, and it was then that I noticed she was wearing the same High Bishop robes as when she had disappeared. In many ways, she hadn’t changed at all—yet at the same time, she was almost unrecognizable. Before, she had looked young enough to be a new student at the Royal Academy, but that disparity between her appearance and age was nowhere to be seen.

Rozemyne’s round, somewhat babyish face was now slim and more refined. Even her fingers were long and slender. Her body looked soft and overtly feminine—and as she had yet to come of age, she had the transient beauty of a girl approaching adulthood.

It’s the blessing of the gods...

That was the only thought I could muster. Nothing else could describe what I was seeing. Rozemyne had always been pretty, but it had never crossed my mind that she might grow into someone so beautiful.

As I swallowed, completely transfixed, Rozemyne’s retainers rushed forward from behind me.

“Lady Rozemyne!”

“I see you brought what I requested. Thank you ever so much, Lieseleta.”

“I am glad to see you safe. We were truly worried.”

Lieseleta put the cloak she was holding over Rozemyne, hiding her lady almost entirely. I was about to protest, since I wanted a better look, but I quickly suppressed the urge.

“Rozemyne, why are you...?” Hildebrand asked, his voice breaking in surprise. It was no wonder he was so taken aback; Rozemyne had previously been his height, but now she was more than a head taller.

“I visited the Garden of Beginnings, where His Divinity Erwaermen asked Anwachs the God of Growth to make me larger.”

Then, before Hildebrand could question her any further, Rozemyne unmade the glowing tablet in her hands and approached me. She had stood only as tall as my chest the last time we’d met, but now she reached as high as my chin. She was on the shorter side for an adult woman, but considering her age, it was likely she would grow a touch more.

“Prince Sigiswald,” she said, her previously high-pitched voice now gentle and mature. Though she had the same look in her golden eyes, now that she was taller, I couldn’t help feeling that we were closer than ever.

“Yes?” I asked.

“I do not wish to inconvenience you, but can we discuss the details of my absence during the Archduke Conference? I must return to Ehrenfest at once to speak with the aub.” She was making no attempt to hide her urgency, and it seemed that she was looking straight through me.