Ascendance of a Bookworm (LN) - Volume Short Story-1 - Chapter 21

Philine — I Serve Lady Rozemyne

A previously unpublished short story that takes place halfway through Part 4 Volume 4. While helping out in the temple, Philine looks back on how she came to be Rozemyne’s apprentice scholar.

Author’s Note: Rozemyne and Philine’s meeting was cut from the main books because it was just too long to include, but I turned it into this short story to celebrate reaching fifty thousand Narou points. You might notice that Philine’s relationship with Jonsara wasn’t always so bad.

We were on our way to the winter baptism ceremony and debut, where I would first meet Lady Rozemyne. My heart fluttered as I climbed into my carriage and we pushed through the snow; as a laynoble, it was my first time going to the castle. I was nervous about the debut in particular, but my special red dress eased my heart. My late mother had worn it when she was young, though it had been altered slightly since then.

After we reached the castle, Father informed a scholar near the entrance of our arrival. We were given directions to a waiting room, so I made my way there with my great-aunt while my father and the others went to the grand hall.

My great-aunt was the younger sister of my grandmother on my father’s side. Laynobles often struggled to prepare noble attendants fit for visiting the castle, so it was common to have a family member fill that role instead.

Upon our arrival at the waiting room, I saw several other kids with adults. “Philine,” my great-aunt said, “all the children here are going to be your future classmates. Take care not to offend them or behave poorly.”

I nodded obediently. In terms of status, I ranked low even among the laynobles, so I was under strict orders to watch my every word and action.

Of all the children, Lady Rozemyne stood out the most. She was sitting elegantly and gazing out the window, her glossy midnight-blue hair rolling down over her shoulders. I could see that she was wearing a fancy hairpin of a style I’d never seen before, as well as a new outfit fashioned from the most beautiful cloth; she had probably had it made specially for today. I could not help but compare her vibrant reds to the duller shades of my own clothes.

“That girl is an archnoble, right?” I asked.

“No, that is Lady Rozemyne,” my great-aunt replied. “She was adopted by Aub Ehrenfest, so take care not to stare uncouthly.”

Seeing another girl my age was such a rare occurrence for me that I couldn’t help but look at her. My mother’s friends had at times brought their own children to play with me, many of whom were about as old as me, but that had stopped after she passed away. My father had then married the much younger Lady Jonsara, whose friends were similarly too young to have any children my age.

These days, the only child with whom I regularly interacted was my brother Konrad—but he was so young that he barely spoke any words at all.

My great-aunt told me that laynoble children should play with other laynoble children... but how am I supposed to recognize them?

Lady Rozemyne turned away from the window and leisurely scanned the room. She had remarkably pretty features and golden eyes that sparkled with amusement. The next thing I knew, we were looking straight at one another—and a moment later, she was smiling and waving at me! I was completely taken aback. How on earth was I supposed to respond without seeming rude?!

Of course, when I eventually came to discover what Lady Rozemyne was like, the answer became clear to me: I should have just returned the gesture.

The baptism ceremony went about as I’d expected; I repeated everything that my family had taught me, and it ended without incident. Next came the debut. We would each play the harspiel, offering our music to the gods.

“Philine,” the High Priest called.

I took the seat waiting for me at the center of the stage, after which Lady Jonsara brought me my harspiel. It was a small children’s model which my mother had used, and on it I played the song that Lady Jonsara had taught me.

“Well done, Philine,” Lady Jonsara said. “You played perfectly.”

“You were no shame of a noble, that is for certain,” my great-aunt added.

“Indeed,” Father agreed. “You did well.”

All three of them praised me upon my return. Now, I only needed to listen to the kids due to perform after me. I could tell as time went on that the songs were getting more and more complicated.

I struggled enough just trying to learn my song. I wonder how much the archnoble children had to practice.

At the time, I was unaware of what a tremendous impact a person’s tutor and the quality of their instrument had on their playing. I was simply impressed by how hard I imagined the other kids had worked.

The last child to perform was Lady Rozemyne. Her name was called, and even the elegance with which she took the stage and sat down made her seem like she was from a completely different world than me.

Before the performance actually started, Aub Ehrenfest took a moment to tell us the circumstances surrounding Lady Rozemyne’s adoption. He introduced her as the Saint of Ehrenfest, a girl who had enough mana to justify her place in the archducal family, so much compassion that she had worked to save mere orphans, and the skills to create new industries from the ground up.

Lady Rozemyne sat patiently throughout the speech, listening with a smile. She certainly was pretty... but she didn’t seem all that extraordinary. I could tell that the adults in the audience were just as dubious.

Once the archduke was finished, a beautiful young musician brought an ornate-looking harspiel onto the stage. Lady Rozemyne accepted it, then plucked one of the strings, causing a high-pitched thrum to resonate through the hall. The melody she played was far more complex than any of the others that had come before, and she paired the beautiful rhythm with the most enchanting singing.

“Now consider me impressed. This song is complex enough that it could be taught in the Royal Academy.”

“It seems that she is as impressive as the aub said.”

Many in the audience quietly voiced their amazement. Lady Rozemyne’s playing was simply a cut above the rest.

“What...?” I muttered, rubbing my eyes in disbelief. It seemed to me that the blue light of a blessing was flowing out of Lady Rozemyne’s ring. I thought it was an illusion at first... but another voice nearby confirmed my suspicions.

“Is that a blessing?”

It continued to pour from Lady Rozemyne’s ring with each new note she played, slowly filling the grand hall. Seeing such a large-scale blessing for the first time had put me in a daze, but I wasn’t alone—Father, Lady Jonsara, my great-aunt, and everyone else were just as awestruck. We all stared at the light over our heads, not even realizing that the performance was over.

“Behold, the Saint of Ehrenfest! May she be blessed for the wealth and glory she brings to our home!” came a sudden call. I returned my attention to the stage and saw the High Priest now carrying Lady Rozemyne in his arms. Everyone around me raised their schtappe into the air and made it shine.

“I see... So she is a saint.”

“That was an extraordinary blessing. She must have the love of the gods.”

As everyone stared at Lady Rozemyne in shock, she gave a gentle smile, waved, and then calmly left the stage.

“So saints do exist...” Lady Jonsara said.

“She has a lot of mana, that much is clear,” Father replied. “I’ve never seen such a blessing before. Still... no matter how compassionate she’s said to be, I can guarantee she won’t treat laynobles any better than the rest. She’s going to be your classmate, Philine, so you’ll need to be especially careful around her.”

The next day, I entered the playroom with great caution, keeping my father’s warning in mind. We children were going to be grouped in accordance with our ranks. My great-aunt had told me not to defy the archnobles or mednobles no matter how they treated me; in her words, the playroom was a very tough place for laynobles until they could obtain the protection of an archnoble.

As it turned out, however, the playroom was nothing like what everyone had told me. The other children were all especially excited about the karuta and playing cards that Lady Rozemyne had brought with her, and sweets were distributed to all, regardless of status. Our professor read from a picture book about the gods, and we studied the alphabet and simple math. Then, the personal musicians of Lady Rozemyne and Lord Wilfried taught us more about playing the harspiel. It was then that I first discovered how great an impact the quality of your tutor and instrument had on your playing.

While the rest of us studied, Lady Rozemyne sat on her own, reading thick, complicated-looking books she had borrowed from the castle or writing down stories to make into books of her own. She was far beyond the rest of us in her studies, carried out her duties as the High Bishop, won every game whenever she decided to participate, and could produce blessings simply by playing the harspiel. Calling her the Saint of Ehrenfest no longer seemed the slightest bit strange to me.

One day in the playroom, Lady Rozemyne came to me with a request: “Philine, do tell me your mother’s stories.” My mother’s passing meant there was nobody else who could share them, so it really warmed my heart that Lady Rozemyne was willing to listen and write them down.

“Philine, you should transcribe these to learn your letters,” Lady Rozemyne said to me when I was done. “I am sure you will pick them up quickly.”

She then gave me my mother’s stories she had written out and a bunch of paper to practice with. Her handwriting was so good that it was hard to believe we were the same age. I had only recently learned to write the alphabet, so I was sure her examples would help me massively.

“I expect you to be able to write your mother’s stories by next winter,” Lady Rozemyne said to me. She allowed me to borrow a picture-book bible as well—and, as a show of gratitude, I decided to transcribe the other stories my mother had told me too. I was sure that Lady Rozemyne would enjoy reading them.

Writing out my mother’s stories made me feel as though I were by her side again, and only during those moments was I truly happy. By that point, my mind was already made up: I wanted to serve Lady Rozemyne as her retainer.

It wasn’t long before I ran out of paper, so I asked my father to prepare some wooden boards for me. I continued to write, eager to show off the fruits of my labor during next year’s winter playroom... but when it came time for me to return, clutching my shakily written stories, Lady Rozemyne was nowhere to be seen. We were told she had been attacked, poisoned, and put into a long slumber. Nobody knew when she would wake up.

I wanted the playroom to stay the same as when Lady Rozemyne was there, so I did my best to help Lord Wilfried and Lady Charlotte in her absence. There was only so much I could do, but Damuel was always there to guide us when we were struggling. He had served Lady Rozemyne since her time in the temple and, while he normally stood quietly to one side, he was always quick to answer any questions put to him.

“Damuel, do you have a moment?”

“Of course, Lady Charlotte.”

Damuel, who had become Lady Rozemyne’s guard knight despite being a laynoble, had somehow managed to secure the trust of all three archduke candidates. I found myself both admiring and envying him.

“So even laynobles can enter Lady Rozemyne’s service...”

Eventually, I decided to share my wish with him. I said to him that I wanted to serve Lady Rozemyne too.

“To what end?” he asked, taking my claim seriously instead of dismissing it outright. “What can you do for Lady Rozemyne?”

I paused to consider the question, and my eyes automatically wandered to the transcriptions I’d brought with me. “I can gather new stories,” I said. “Lady Rozemyne was overjoyed to hear them before, and my hope is to gather even more for her.”

“She certainly would appreciate that... Well, Lady Rozemyne doesn’t pick based on status so, if she recognizes your hard work, she’ll consider you for sure. Do your best, and good luck.”

Holding those words of encouragement close to my heart, I continued writing stories while waiting for Lady Rozemyne to wake up.

“Philine, why are you always writing stories?” Lady Charlotte asked me one day, her eyes drawn to the boards piled in front of me.

“I intend to offer them to Lady Rozemyne,” I replied. “I want her to rejoice when she awakens.”

“Oh my... Do you mean to say that you aim to become her retainer?” Lady Charlotte’s indigo eyes widened in surprise, which made me surprised in turn.

It was unthinkable for a laynoble to become an archducal retainer. Damuel was serving Lady Rozemyne simply because he had been with her for so long and most knights were loath to visit the temple—and, even then, there had been plans to replace him with a medknight or an archknight after the first year of her adoption. The only reason he hadn’t yet been let go was because Lady Rozemyne was still unconscious.

“I have heard that, because he is a laynoble, Damuel is going to be replaced when Lady Rozemyne returns to us,” I said. “I am a laynoble as well, so I do not think I could ever become her retainer. That is irrelevant, though; I simply wish to serve her.”

“And why do you wish to serve my sister? You met her for the very first time during last year’s playroom, did you not?”

I stroked my transcriptions. The stories that Lady Rozemyne had written for me endured in the form of paper and wood. No matter how many times I read them, Mother’s kind storytelling voice arose in my mind.

However, the stories that hadn’t been recorded continued to fade from my memory. There were several that I no longer remembered at all.

“By listening to and recording my mother’s stories, Lady Rozemyne kept her alive in my heart,” I said. “She did what no other could, and that is why she is my one and only lady.”

All of those experiences had gotten me where I was now, working as Lady Rozemyne’s apprentice scholar. I still didn’t quite know why she had chosen me, but I was determined to serve her to the best of my ability until the day came when she told me I was no longer needed.

“Philine, scrap this and start again,” Lord Ferdinand said to me, heartlessly returning the board I’d given to him. I was being asked to do math work in the temple, but it felt more like I was being tutored. Lord Ferdinand would expressionlessly reject my calculations more often than he accepted them, so it was hard to say that I was being of any use to Lady Rozemyne.

Lord Ferdinand wore a peaceful smile whenever he was at the castle, but here at the temple, he was generally expressionless—except for when he would knit his brow in a frown. He had nothing if not a pretty face, but those moments made my heart stop. It always felt like he was glaring at me.

“It’s okay, Philine,” Lady Rozemyne would say. “You’ll get used to his expressionlessness eventually. In fact, I think you’ll come to realize that his smiles are what you should really fear.” I still didn’t understand what she meant, which only went to show that I wasn’t yet suited to being her retainer.

“Rejected again...” I said, returning to my seat with my board of calculations.

Hartmut raised an eyebrow at me. “Try calming down a bit, Philine. A lot of your errors are simply because you’re looking at the wrong digit.” He was doing real work, not mere worksheets.

Damuel nodded in agreement; he was also working alongside us. “Your fingers are moving faster than before. You just need to be more careful about making mistakes. Plus, I can assure you—Lord Ferdinand isn’t angry at you, no matter how much you might think otherwise.”

I nodded in turn and said, “I will do my best.” Lord Ferdinand definitely seemed annoyed, but I knew it was wise to trust Damuel about these matters.

As I was redoing the math, Lady Rozemyne stood up and presented some documents to Lord Ferdinand. He looked them over and then said, “Very good” before handing her some more work to go through. It was ever so subtle, but I was sure that I saw his eyes soften a little as he praised her. Maybe it was just my imagination, though.

“This originally came under the High Bishop’s duties. Learn to do it.”

“It seems a bit troublesome...”

Lord Ferdinand was merciless when he delegated work, but Lady Rozemyne would always complete it without fail. I intended to do my best and be of as much use as possible, but I still had a long way to go before I could be deemed worthy of serving as Lady Rozemyne’s retainer.

“You’re working hard,” Hartmut said to me. “Lady Rozemyne rejoiced when she read the stories you gathered at the Royal Academy.”

“You’ve gathered many stories of your own.”

But while I was searching for stories that would make Lady Rozemyne happy, Hartmut was simply recording where the legend of her sainthood had started and how it had developed from there. He would always gleefully visit the temple, saying that the gray priests and attendants from her chambers and the workshop offered the most riveting insights, entirely unlike anything heard in the castle.

“Hartmut, where are you going?” I asked.

“To the orphanage. Lady Rozemyne’s attendant Wilma and former attendant Delia are there, and they both tell very intriguing stories. People who find themselves in the same situation can still provide entirely unique tales about Lady Rozemyne depending on their position and relationship with her.”

Lord Ferdinand and Lady Rozemyne gave Hartmut even more duties than they did me, but he would always finish them swiftly and then start helping the gray priests with their work. He normally used that opportunity to speak with them about one thing or another.

The temple attendants were generally tense around nobles, but Hartmut had managed to get past that by interacting with them casually and always starting up rousing conversations about what made Lady Rozemyne so amazing. I thought his people skills were very impressive, but he assured me that his techniques had all come from Lord Justus.

Incidentally, I still didn’t know very much about Lord Justus—other than that he would apparently cross-dress to obtain information.

“Keep on transcribing that Dunkelfelger book,” Hartmut said to me. “I’ll be back before Lady Rozemyne looks up from her reading.”

Hartmut only ever had spirited discussions about Lady Rozemyne in the orphanage, the workshop, or the High Bishop’s chambers—basically whenever our lady was focused on her books. I didn’t know how he managed it, but he always seemed to wrap things up right before Lady Rozemyne stopped reading. And, no matter where he went, he always got back in time.

On a daily basis, Hartmut’s supreme competence made my shortcomings all too clear to me.