Ascendance of a Bookworm (LN) - Volume Short Story - Chapter 2

Roderick — One Day in the Royal Academy

“Farewell, everyone,” Rozemyne said, seeing us off to our classes as she always did. She spotted Philine and me among the leaving senior students and gave a warm smile. “You two have geography today, I believe. Pay close attention to your professors.”

Philine and I had narrowly passed our history and geography exams, but only after tearfully begging our professors to let us. They had eventually conceded, but only on the condition that we alone, out of all the first-years, start attending their lessons.

The classes had only half as many students as when we had taken the exam, namely because the archnobles and archduke candidates of other duchies were passing in droves. That left only the laynobles and mednobles, which made things feel particularly sparse.

I entered the class, then blinked in surprise. The students were all gathered at the front for some reason, which made it seem as though there were more people in attendance than usual.

Are we in the wrong room?

“Did something happen, I wonder?” Philine asked, looking similarly uneasy as she eyed our surroundings. A girl in a light-blue cape must have overheard as she was passing by because she stopped and turned to us.

“Now that all the archnobles and archduke candidates have passed, they must have changed the seating arrangements,” she said. “My older sister told me this would happen.”

The students from other duchies had already been told about this by their seniors, so they weren’t as uncertain, but we weren’t so lucky. We had only been studying with others from our grade, and since we first-years had all passed at once, the older students hadn’t thought this kind of thing was necessary to mention.

“I thank you ever so much. I was feeling quite uneasy...” Philine replied. And with that, we began searching for our new seats. It seemed they were numbered according to the duchy rankings.

“Here. These are the thirteens,” I said. There were two chairs at the very center of one row, right between the twelves and fourteens. Up until now, the students of each duchy had sat together and away from the other duchies, but now, the students all moved to fill the gaps.

“I feel a little tense, sitting next to students of other duchies,” Philine muttered, hugging her belongings to her chest. I shrugged and set my things on the chair next to a seat labeled twelve.

“It can’t be any worse than sitting next to high-ranking students from our own duchy.”

During the hunting tournament two years ago, I had followed my father’s instructions and played with Wilfried, only to end up committing an unforgivable crime. Ever since then, the friends I had once spent time with had started calling me a traitor to the archducal family, and everyone looked at me with cold eyes—even those of my own faction.

Lady Rozemyne’s terrifying proclamation that all first-years would need to pass their written lessons on the first day had made me tremble with fear, but the ensuing struggle had formed tight bonds between us. Now, I was no longer being ostracized. Not to mention, students from the other duchies didn’t know how I was treated at home. It was much easier being in class with them than being in the dormitory.

“Erm, Lord Roderick...” Philine said in a hushed voice, sitting in a seat next to one labeled fourteen. “You’ve been going to the library on the same days as Lady Rozemyne, have you not? Entirely as if you were serving her. This is just, um, a thought... but is it possible that you feel as uncomfortable in the dormitory as you did in the playroom last year? Would you like me to speak with Lady Rozemyne about it?”

Refusing her would mean being stuck in my current situation, but who knew what kind of information would leak to the former Veronica faction if I agreed. Neither was a good response. I thought about it for a moment, then shook my head.

“I use the more distant carrels, so as long as nobody stops me from going there, there’s nothing to worry about. I’m writing a story for Lady Rozemyne right now, so...”

Philine seemed to guess my intentions. “Lady Rozemyne will surely rejoice,” she whispered, her eyes cast downward in a forlorn look that I could only half see. It was probably because she was the only one to have been chosen as Lady Rozemyne’s retainer, despite us both having written and gathered stories in the playroom. “I must ask, though—what will you do when she is sent home for the Dedication Ritual, Lord Roderick?”

A shiver ran down my spine; it was like someone had seized me by the heart. So long as I went to the library at the same time as Lady Rozemyne, nobody would bother me, and I could spend my time there in peace. I hadn’t even considered what might happen when she left.

“Who knows?” I said. “I’ll think about it when it happens.”

“The truth is, I’ve been dwelling on the same thing... I’m safe now while Lady Rozemyne’s here, but people still envy and feel vengeful toward me.”

I couldn’t help but recoil, well aware that even I had shared in those spiteful thoughts about her—about how she was receiving such special treatment despite only being a laynoble. Philine must have sensed that, even though it remained unspoken; such strong feelings of malice were sickeningly easy to detect. But even with all that in mind, my frustration about her getting to be Lady Rozemyne’s retainer didn’t fade.

“I don’t think you’ll need to worry with Lord Hartmut here,” I said. “At least you have someone to protect you.” No sooner had the words escaped me than I pressed my lips together, conscious that my tone had sounded unnecessarily sharp. Before I could say anything, however, a hand reached out for the chair next to Philine, and a purple cape caught my eye.

“Excuse me,” the new arrival said. “I am Anselm of Berschmann. Pleased to meet you.”

“I am Philine of Ehrenfest. Pleased to meet you as well.”

Taking the seat beside Philine was a boy from Berschmann the Fourteenth. I had seen him before during my practical lessons, so he was most likely a mednoble. I made sure to introduce myself as well, not wanting him to make any unreasonable demands of a laynoble like Philine.

“I am Roderick of Ehrenfest. Pleased to meet you.”

The student beside Anselm, as well as the next student after that, were shooting us glances. The closer one then poked Anselm and asked him something—or perhaps urged him to gather some intelligence from us.

Younger students were told time and time again by their seniors to never be rude to the duchies ranked above them. Of course, these older students were used to operating within the bounds of the duchy rankings, but this was a tense time for first-years, who had not yet begun socializing. My circumstances made me an easy fall guy—someone Ehrenfest could dispose of without hesitation—so I was often thrust to the forefront of social situations. I could empathize with Anselm’s situation as a result, so I decided to break the ice.

“Then again, as we already share practical lessons, Lord Anselm, this hardly feels like a first meeting at all.”

Anselm and Philine relaxed at my response; they had both been uncertain about how to respond to this situation. “Indeed,” Anselm said. “Erm, if you don’t mind my asking... Since all of your duchy’s first-years passed their exams on the first day, how have they been spending the time they would have spent in class?”

“Excuse me...?” I asked and exchanged a look with Philine. We couldn’t understand what he was trying to say.

Anselm hastily elaborated. “Other duchies are still attending classes, so they can’t socialize, right? And as first-years, they can’t yet brew or train. So, I was curious to know what your duchy’s first-years are doing right now, as nothing comes to mind. Is it fun to have more free time?”

Now that he mentioned it, there certainly was little we could do in the dormitory. I really had no idea how to answer him; we had all been told to keep matters related to the Better Grades Committee a secret from other duchies.

“We study, I suppose...” Philine answered, eyeing me for my reaction. “Even without lessons to attend, we do the work that Lady Rozemyne assigns us. As other duchies are still going to their classes, we have been told to stay in the dormitory for now unless we have very important extenuating circumstances.”

I nodded; it was a fair enough response. “We have two first-year archduke candidates, but their older retainers haven’t finished their lessons yet. We’ve thus been told not to leave our dormitory during classes unless we are with one of said candidates.”

In truth, Lady Rozemyne was going to the library every day—and so was I, for that matter. My statement to Anselm wasn’t entirely untrue, though, because Wilfried was still waiting for his retainers to finish and was therefore unable to leave the dormitory freely. To be precise, we were spending our time reading second-year study guides in the common room and making new textbooks of our own, but that was top secret.

“Ah, I see...” Anselm replied. “I suppose it’s not especially rewarding to have passed on the first day, then.”

“The truth is, in Berschmann, we’ve been instructed to ensure our grades are not below yours,” the student beside him added. “We thought we could motivate ourselves by learning what the Ehrenfest first-years do with all their free time, but it seems there is little to be excited about.”

Anselm nodded. “It certainly is hard for us lesser nobles, being wrapped up in the orders of archduke candidates.”

I didn’t quite agree. Although it was true that my heart had frozen when we first-years were ordered to pass in one go, Lady Rozemyne had prepared all the resources and strategies necessary to make it happen. After all that, plus how much I had learned from watching the archducal musician play harspiel, I was more thankful for archduke candidates than anything.

“Lady Rozemyne does not...” Philine began, looking a bit annoyed at the Berschmann students. I understood not wanting to hear one’s lord or lady be criticized, no matter how indirectly, but she was speaking to a mednoble. As someone of a lower status, it was better for her to say nothing at all.

I gave Philine a gentle prod on the arm and turned to Anselm. “Keeping up really can be a struggle, but there is much to gain from doing crest-certified work. Isn’t that right, Philine?”

“Wha? Oh, of course. If we transcribe books not currently available in our castle’s library, Lady Rozemyne graciously buys them from us. Those from other duchies interested in Ehrenfest’s crest-certified work may ask for details and participate as well.”

“Crest-certified work” in the Royal Academy referred to the jobs students could take on to earn money, and it was named as such after the order forms used to ensure payment was received. These forms would contain our names, crests, and a description of the job in question. Anyone who didn’t receive the agreed compensation could petition the aub about it during the Interduchy Tournament.

All of the students left in class were nobles who couldn’t afford to spend much on their studies, unlike archnobles and archduke candidates, so they were very open to the allure of crest-certified work. First-years in particular couldn’t make rejuvenation potions to sell to apprentice knights, nor could they risk going to their gathering spot to collect materials for apprentice scholars. A job where all one needed to do was write was very appealing indeed.

“Once we’ve finished several of our classes and are afforded more free time, we will make sure to inquire,” one of the Berschmann students said. And with that, our class began.

History and geography classes were very easy to understand when we could reference Lady Rozemyne’s prepared materials and worksheets during the professor’s lecture. Her study guides were more neatly put together than anything I was capable of, and at a glance, all the more important details were clear to see.

I’m sure Lady Rozemyne’s study guides would sell more copies than any other.

Her writing was the example I strove to reach myself. During my first year in the winter playroom, I had racked my brain for a story to tell so that I could borrow some playing cards. Then, during my second year, I borrowed the newly made book containing my story and transcribed it all onto wooden boards. It was far too expensive for me to buy outright, so I had worked my hardest to copy it all down and memorize it.

And yet, even after working so closely with the text, it was only recently that I came to understand how much she had improved on my own telling of the story. Her writing was so clear and smooth, and no matter how much I tried to replicate it when writing my own stories, I always came up short. The worst part was that I didn’t really know where I was messing up or what to change.

If only Lady Rozemyne and I were in the same faction... Then, I could just ask her for assistance...

I already knew that Lady Rozemyne would readily agree to help me, but her retainers and Lord Wilfried were vehemently against me going anywhere near her. I couldn’t risk trying.

Written lessons ended at fourth bell, and we returned to the dormitory for lunch. Our practical lessons for mana usage would start in the afternoon, and for these, mednobles were divided into two classes: one that contained the first- to sixth-ranked duchies, and another that contained the rest. This was done because greater duchies had such large populations, but it inadvertently made it hard for those of us from the lower-ranked duchies to forge connections with the greater duchies during class.

“Today, I will excel at removing mana from feystones,” Lady Katinka declared. “That much I can assure you.”

“I can push mana into a feystone without issue, but pulling it back out is so much harder,” Lord Elias agreed with a nod.

Lady Katinka and Lord Elias were both neutral mednobles in Ehrenfest. In the past, their houses had appeared to loyally serve Lady Veronica, but after Lady Rozemyne’s baptism, they had started warming up to Leisegang nobles instead. This had lasted until Lady Rozemyne entered her long slumber, at which point they had started distancing themselves somewhat. From my perspective as someone whose father had crossed an exceedingly dangerous bridge—and caused a great deal of chaos—in an attempt to butter up his faction superiors, their houses were behaving expertly as neutral mednobles.

As I followed two steps behind them, I resolved to perfect getting mana into feystones during this lesson. That was easier said than done, though, considering that I was so short of mana. In truth, I was closer to a laynoble than an average mednoble.

The professors brought us low-quality feystones that had previously been used by the archnobles and archduke candidates, which meant there were still slight vestiges of their mana inside them. We had to overwhelm that mana with our own, but again, this was easier said than done for me.

I struggle enough trying to move my mana around at will, so...

The magic tools given to us at birth sucked out our excess mana automatically, meaning we didn’t need to move it on our own. I knew what it felt like for mana to flow into the tool, and I knew that I needed to move it in the same way... but actually doing it was another matter entirely. The archnobles and archduke candidates had apparently managed it in one go during their class, but it really didn’t seem that easy to me.

“Nghhh...!”

Once again, I clenched the tiny feystone and tried to pour my mana into it. Controlling the flow had become a little easier since getting my schtappe, but even then, the task before me was beyond daunting.

“Guh?!” I cried out despite myself as an explosive burst rushed through my hands. The mana I was trying to build up had scattered, and my failure brought with it a flood of exhaustion.

“Perhaps the student who used that feystone before you has especially strong mana,” Lord Elias said. “Might I suggest asking Professor Hirschur for an exchange?”

“An exchange...?” I repeated, looking down at the clear feystone.

“It feels to me that some feystones are easier to use than others.”

This was my third practical spent trying to dye a feystone. Each attempt had ended in failure, so they had all seemed equally impossible to me, but I really believed the issue was with my own skill. Even so, Lord Elias had gone through the trouble of giving me advice, so I decided to at least humor the idea.

“Professor Hirschur, may I exchange this feystone for another?” I asked.

“You should be able to dye any feystone of this size... but as this is practice rather than a test, I shall allow it. I gather that you’ve realized not all stones require the same amount of effort to dye,” Hirschur replied and pushed a box filled with them toward me. Of course, I hadn’t realized anything myself—I was only here because of someone else’s advice—but at least she had provided some confirmation.

That said... I can’t tell which ones are meant to be easier.

The feystones were all equally transparent. I thanked Professor Hirschur, took one at random, and then went back to my seat.

“Nghhh... Oh?”

This stone was easier to dye than the other one; it was a slow process, but I could feel my mana steadily going into it. There was some resistance, but not enough to cause my mana to burst again, so I tightened my grip and desperately continued to pour. Eventually, light started to shine through the crevices of my fingers.

“Oh my, Lord Roderick. It would appear you’ve succeeded,” Lady Katinka said, and I opened my fingers with timid disbelief. The once-clear feystone was now dyed a yellowish orange, the color of my mana.

“I actually did it...” I muttered. “But, er, well... Unlike your feystones, there are still bits of the other person’s mana floating in mine, so it’s not a complete success.”

“You will need more practice, but you should not disregard your achievement,” Lord Elias said, praising me.

“Indeed,” Lady Katinka added. “And your task is not yet over, Lord Roderick—now you must remove your mana.”

I was glad that we could talk like this, even if only during class. Had I been of a different faction, perhaps these conversations would have been the norm for me.

Praise be to Lady Rozemyne, who formed the Better Grades Committee.

I was already familiar with the flow of mana leaving my body—even if only through my mana being sucked out on its own—but I had no experience with drawing it back into me. I stared at the feystone questioningly and rolled it around on my palm, unsure where to even begin... and before I knew it, our lesson was over. The professor would take care of any stones that still contained mana, apparently, so I put mine back in the box and exited the classroom.

After dinner, we took turns bathing. I was of a lower status than everyone else in my room, so I always went last. I could spend that time either reading boards or writing my story, and as I made my way out of the dining hall, contemplating which to choose, Philine came to speak to me.

“Lord Roderick, I will not be attending history tomorrow. It seems our schedule cannot be changed to avoid my absence.”

According to Philine, Lady Rozemyne’s retainers were forming a schedule based around their classes to ensure someone was always available to accompany her to the library. Philine was taking history and geography with me, but she would sometimes need to miss classes for this reason. She looked apologetic about it—but also proud to be accompanying Lady Rozemyne, which was somewhat irritating.

“That makes sense,” I replied. “Your retainer work is more important, and you have already passed the class, so...”

My words failed me; Lord Hartmut and Lord Cornelius were more or less glaring at me as I spoke to Philine. She was just a laynoble, but her retainer coworkers still treated her so well. I was jealous beyond words. Every time I was reminded just how different our situations were, I couldn’t help but get endlessly frustrated.

If only Lady Rozemyne and I were in the same faction; then, I wouldn’t have these feelings in the first place.

I was getting annoyed at Philine even though she hadn’t done anything wrong—which, in turn, made me annoyed at myself. As much as I didn’t want to feel this way, the negative emotions that were swelling up inside me showed no signs of calming down. It didn’t make sense to me either, and I was just praying that I could swallow down my envy for long enough to change my blackening heart.

How I wish taking a bath cleansed the spirit as well...

Once it was my turn to bathe, I entrusted my body to the hot water. Much to my surprise, it felt as though the dark feelings stirring inside me started to dissolve, if only a little, and the feeling of my attendant Kashmir massaging my scalp did wonders to wash away my frustration.

“Kashmir... do you know how to get people of other factions to trust you?” I asked. He was family on my mother’s side and treated me well, perhaps because he was displeased about how my father acted. He was the one who had advised me to use the library when I needed an escape from the struggles of the dormitory.

“Those of other factions, you say?” Kashmir said, looking highly troubled. It certainly was a problematic question to be asked out of nowhere, so I attempted to backpedal; one didn’t want to trouble one’s attendants without reason.

“It doesn’t matter if not. I guess if such a way existed, everyone would already be using it...”

Obviously, there were no means by which I could get Lady Rozemyne to trust me. I was feeling even more glum, having raised and then immediately dashed my own hopes, but then Kashmir hesitantly spoke.

“There may be one way...”

“Really?!”

“Please keep still; I need to wash the bubbles from your hair.” His response had shocked me into sitting up, so I obediently lay back down. He exhaled as he poured some hot water over my head. “As I understand it, the highly distrustful Lady Veronica demanded that nobles carry out some particular procedure to earn her trust. I do not know the details, unfortunately, but it does exist.”

It seemed that his hesitation in answering had come from how little he actually knew about the ritual, but even so—“I feel better just knowing there’s a way. Thanks, Kashmir.”

“No need to thank me. I merely hope that more light may one day shine on your life here in the Royal Academy, Lord Roderick.”

Although I hadn’t learned anything too meaningful from our conversation, Kashmir was trying his best to help me, and that alone seemed to put me at ease.

I wonder if I’ll ever earn Lady Rozemyne’s trust...

I decided that, upon returning to Ehrenfest, I would start looking into the procedure that Kashmir had mentioned—the one that Lady Veronica had required of all those hoping to earn her trust. I carved that resolve into my heart so that I would never forget.