Ascendance of a Bookworm (LN) - Volume 3.3 - Chapter 10

To the End of Winter 

Sunny days became more frequent after the Lord of Winter had been slain. There were, of course, still snowy days, and the cold continued to be harsh, but the increasing number of students coming home showed just how late into the season we were. The early returners were those who had completed their lessons and work sooner than their schedules had accounted for. 

The apprentice knights participated in the Order’s training regimens and showed up at Order gatherings, while apprentice scholars helped with government work and attended scholar gatherings. When they did not have plans, they would show up at the playroom, meaning that we sometimes had older kids joining the fun. 

Wilfried and the others were currently engaged in a game of karuta with some academy students, all of whom had turned a sickly pale color as their younger siblings, who supposedly had no previous reading experience, completely dominated them. 

“Alright! I win again!” Wilfried exclaimed. 

“Indeed, Lord Wilfried! I beat my older brother, too!” another kid chimed in. 

The students looked shocked, having casually accepted the challenge to play only to lose most of the art cards. Some were even cradling their heads, devastated that they had been smashed to pieces by their younger brothers and sisters. There really wasn’t anything that newbies could do against experienced players. 

“See, everyone? You have all developed so much that you can even beat your older siblings,” I said. 

I, personally, was still unrivaled when it came to karuta, and my winning streak was unbroken. Wilfried, on the other hand, had started to deteriorate, believing that he could never beat me no matter how hard he tried. That was why I had set up this game with the older kids, hoping that he would regain some of his confidence. 

“Since the older siblings already know how to read, they will almost certainly start winning once they have memorized the art cards,” I continued. “That almost certainly won’t happen this winter, but I wish you luck.” 

It was one thing to lose to Wilfried, but losing to their younger siblings was a matter of pride for the older brothers and sisters. They wore surprisingly serious expressions as they started lining up the karuta again. 

“Lady Rozemyne,” Cornelius said. He always addressed me as “Lady” here, since the playroom was a public area. 

I turned to him and tilted my head slightly. “Yes?” 

“I see there are multiple karuta decks. Did you purchase them from somewhere? I’ve never seen one before.” 

“Oh? Have you really never had the opportunity to see one? They’re study materials that I made myself and brought to the castle last autumn to help teach Wilfried to read.” 

It turned out that, since Cornelius could not enter Wilfried’s room while serving as my guard knight, he had been forced to wait outside and thus had never seen the karuta himself. 

“You say they are for learning letters, but it seems to me that the children are learning the names of the gods as well.” 

“Of course. They learn the names of the gods at the same time, and I believe the children now know which god is subordinate to which and what they govern as well.” At that, I showed him the karuta and explained what everyone had been doing over the winter. 

“Lady Rozemyne, this is all content that I’m supposed to be learning next year at the Royal Academy...” Cornelius said, his voice slowly trailing off. 

As I scanned the room, I noticed a number of students slumping their shoulders dejectedly as they looked at the karuta. I could guess that these were the ones who had spent this year at the Royal Academy learning about the gods, yet were struggling to memorize what the kids here already knew. 

“I suppose the children who played karuta this year are going to end up as honor students, then. My plan was to sell them here at the end of winter, but perhaps I should speed things up a bit and sell them to academy students as well. After all, they won’t improve without people to compete against.” 

Cornelius gave a firm nod, his fists clenched with the resolve to make next year easier for himself. It was heartwarming to see, but I also felt a sudden tinge of concern for Angelica, who had become a knight specifically because she hated studying. 

And so, I had Rihyarda request a meeting with Sylvester, hoping to get his permission to sell my study materials. The meeting was quickly granted, since he too had something that he wanted to discuss with me. 

“There you are, Rozemyne. Good to see you,” Sylvester said. 

It had been a long time since we had last seen each other. Sylvester had been busy holding both lunch and dinner meetings with other nobles throughout the winter, plus he had received invitations to various feasts, so there had been barely any opportunities for us to see one another. 

Karstedt, Ferdinand, and Eckhart were also in attendance, with Karstedt standing behind Sylvester and Eckhart behind Ferdinand. In fact, this was my first time seeing Eckhart serving as Ferdinand’s guard while in the castle. Damuel was also present as my guard, since our discussion here would be deep and secretive. 

“I hear that you were quite helpful during the Lord of Winter hunt,” Sylvester said. “Karstedt told me all about it.” 

“All I really did was fill the divine instrument with mana. Ferdinand and the Order did everything else.” 

I had pretty much just waited inside Lessy while the knights protected me, then landed the final blow on the weakened feybeast to get the feystone, since I needed it for my own purposes. And since even that had required Ferdinand’s assistance, I could hardly puff out my chest with pride and brag about my contribution. 

“Far from it,” Karstedt said with a hearty laugh. “You gave everyone Angriff’s blessing and finished off a Lord, which is no small feat. The hunt this year ended with minimal casualties, and we used up far fewer resources than usual.” 

Ferdinand gave a satisfied nod. “Obtaining the highest quality winter ingredient possible was well worth losing all the other materials.” 

Apparently, under normal circumstances, everyone would work together to weaken the Lord of Winter over a much longer period. Then, once it was on the verge of death, they would start dissecting it to gather materials. They would strip off everything of use, from fur to meat to bones, taking extra care not to touch the feystone since its body would melt away once it was removed. 

But this year, since they had prioritized getting a pure feystone for use in my potion, nothing else had been gathered from the beast. The Order had thus lost a valuable source of income for the year, which I would be covering myself. I didn’t mind, though, since I was basically paying for the feystone and their guard duty. 

“Now, what was it you wanted to talk about, Rozemyne?” Sylvester asked. “You want to sell your picture books and teaching materials?” 

“That’s right. As I’ve mentioned in my reports, the kids too young for the academy have spent this winter studying a similar curriculum to Wilfried, playing with the karuta, cards, and reading picture books.” 

My intention here had been to raise the basic knowledge level of every noble child in the duchy, and Sylvester leaned forward eagerly to hear how it had gone. 

“As a result, every single child—including the laynobles—can now read and write the entire alphabet,” I continued. “They know the names of the gods and their subordinates thanks to the karuta, and they are also capable of doing single-digit addition and subtraction. In terms of harspiel practice, the laynobles who had been required to study under their parents due to not having the funds to pay for good teachers have also improved considerably.” 

The laynoble children knew that this winter was their only opportunity to learn under a proper teacher, so they had thrown themselves into their harspiel practice. This had also made the mednobles and archnobles study even harder, since they didn’t want to lose to the laynobles. The result was everyone getting a lot better. 

“I heard from Cornelius that there is a class in the Royal Academy dedicated to teaching students the names of the gods,” I said. 

“There sure is. The names are a pain to learn, and most of them barely ever get used, so it’s real easy to just forget all the ones that don’t have much to do with your life,” Sylvester replied with a shrug. I could guess that this meant the class tended to involve hardcore memorization, and the similar smiles that Karstedt and Eckhart were wearing hinted that they had gone through the same thing themselves. 

“Wilfried is currently more familiar with the gods than any of the students who took that course,” I revealed. 

Sylvester opened his eyes wide with shock. “Say what...? Wilfried is?” 

Nobody could blame him for being surprised; Wilfried had barely been able to write out basic letters at the start of autumn, but now he knew even more about the gods than Royal Academy students. Who could believe that? 

“The students who have returned from the Royal Academy are working hard to beat him and the others in karuta, desperate to not keep losing to their younger siblings. This kind of competitiveness is the best way to encourage learning, so I would like to sell the karuta and picture books now rather than later. May I have your permission to sell them in the castle?” 

I had only brought three sets of karuta for the kids to play with, but competition was so fierce now that everyone wanted to play with them. And naturally, when it came to fighting over who got to use them next, the older brothers and sisters always won. 

“Alright. You have my permission. You’ll be selling the teaching materials in the playroom, correct?” 

“Yes. But as it would not be my place to directly sell them to the nobles, I would like your permission to invite the Gilberta Company as my representative merchants.” 

My attendants had taken up the roles of salespeople during the harspiel concert, but that was not what attendants were supposed to do. Plus, winter was too busy of a time due to all the visitors for me to be giving them so much extra work. All in all, there were just too many kids to potentially sell things to. 

“The Gilberta Company, huh...? Eh, sure. Discuss the time and other such arrangements with the person responsible for the playroom, and send word with the details once you have it settled. All the nobles will need to know about this in advance if you want to boost your sales, right?” 

“I’ll keep you updated, Sylvester, but not everyone needs to know. Sales are going to be limited to just nobles with children for now, so I think relying on the kids telling their parents should be enough,” I said, earning me confused looks from Ferdinand, Karstedt, and of course Sylvester. 

“But... why? Don’t you want to sell them to everyone, like those pictures from before?” Sylvester asked. 

“The more sales, the better, to be sure. But the fact that these products are being handmade means we only have so many of them, and being swarmed by nobles seeking to earn my favor would be overwhelming to say the least.” 

We had made enough for each kid and then some, but not enough for every single noble in Ehrenfest. Plus, there would be no point in selling them if people seeking my favor bought them all and left none for the children who actually needed them. 

“Alright. You’ve proven yourself with how well you taught the kids over the winter, so if you think that’ll be for the best, then go ahead. Do what you want.” 

“Thank you, Sylvester.” 

Now that I had permission to sell my teaching materials, I would need to return to the temple so that I could bring them all to the castle. While I was there, I would also need to contact the Gilberta Company. 

I looked up at Sylvester while writing the last few notes into my diptych. “That’s all I wanted to talk about, so we can move on now. What is it that you wanted to discuss?” 

“Right, right. Your recipes have been pretty popular over here, so...” 

“Ah, surprising the nobles with the new food went well, then?” 

Wilfried and I could only accept visits from a select few nobles under strict conditions, which meant that we never attended lunch meetings with others. I’d consequently had no idea how my recipes were being received, but those trying them had apparently all been exceedingly impressed. More nobles than ever were seeking invitations to lunch and dinner meetings from Sylvester, both to discuss his mother’s fall from grace and to enjoy the new food. 

“I’ve been asked for the recipes more times than I can count,” Sylvester continued, “so I’d like for you to think up a convenient way to teach them to people.” I could imagine that he had been using them as a powerful bargaining chip in all sorts of deals. 

“Delicious food is the foundation of any life, after all. Maybe I should make an entire recipe book...? I could charge two large golds for it, and it would contain the same recipes taught to both Father’s and your chefs.” 

“Rozemyne, that’s cheaper than what we had to pay. How’s that fair?” Sylvester asked, raising an eyebrow at me. He had paid three large golds for those thirty recipes. 

“Well, of course it’s cheaper. Information is more valuable when fewer people know it, and this would be spreading it far and wide. Plus, I’ll only be selling the recipes; it’s not as though I’ll be sending my chefs to teach people the methods.” 

But Sylvester didn’t look convinced. 

“My recipes use abnormal cooking methods and require a tedious amount of preparation work, so it’s hard to imagine that anyone will end up creating identical meals, even when they’re following the same instructions,” I continued. “Your expertly trained chefs will earn you years’ worth of envy and praise following the book’s publication, and if you ever think that admiration is starting to wane, I can simply sell you more new recipes.” 

“So you’re gonna squeeze more money outta me?” Sylvester asked, raising his eyebrow even further. And he was right—that was exactly what I was going to do. I wasn’t someone who worked for free, and I needed to raise enough money to pay the Knight’s Order for the feystone. 

“Either way, this isn’t something that’s going to happen any time soon. I’ll be making and selling the recipe books next winter at the earliest, so if you want to use them as a bargaining chip, it might be wise for us to price gouge as much as possible. What do you think about limiting production to a hundred copies and raising the price dramatically higher than just two large golds?” I asked. Doing this would give the books a nice premium feeling, and the fact that everyone else would have to suffer until next year would probably allow me to raise the price even more. 

As I fell into thought over just how much I should be selling the recipe books for, Sylvester glared at Ferdinand. “...Ferdinand, did you teach her to be like this?” 

Ferdinand narrowed his eyes and gave a dismissive laugh. “No, I imagine the Gilberta Company is responsible. Business is outside of my purview. Do not make me out to be the source of all evil.” 

“My bad, my bad,” Sylvester said, looking away and waving his hand in a manner that made it clear he didn’t actually feel bad at all. Then, out of nowhere, he shot me a deadly serious look. “Rozemyne, there’s one more thing we must talk about—Hasse. I’ve been kept up to date by Ferdinand, but I would like to hear what you personally intend to do there.” 

I straightened my back, glanced at Ferdinand, then looked Sylvester straight in the eyes. “What is most important right now is waiting to see what conclusion Hasse comes to, but I intend to have the mayor’s faction take responsibility for the attack on the monastery and use them as an example to teach the others how to treat nobles. To this end, I am presently using the Gilberta Company to spread rumors and advice regarding the proper way to behave.” 

“Hm. Should I take that to mean you plan to settle the monastery attack with a single, one-off punishment?” Sylvester asked, keeping his gaze focused on me. “Hasse’s farmers will of course suffer if we don’t send priests to them during Spring Prayer, but a single year of reduced harvest won’t leave a lasting impression. It’s far too small of a punishment for the crime of attacking a member of the archduke’s family.” 

I swallowed hard, feeling the same intense pressure and anxiety I felt when I was forced to come up with a punishment for Delia. Attacking the archduke’s family was indeed a serious crime. I needed to think up a punishment that would both convey its seriousness to everyone in the city and satisfy Sylvester, so I desperately racked my brain for ideas. 

“...I-In that case, might I suggest raising their tax rate for the next ten years?” I suggested. “Farmers are essential for producing the taxes we collect, so while it would be easy for you to crush a city like Hasse, would it not be more worthwhile to slowly wring out more money from them over the coming years?” As far as I was concerned, financial penalties were a much, much better way of resolving things than mass executions. 

I thought that was a pretty modest punishment, but it was enough for Sylvester to subtly flinch. “I can’t tell if you’re soft or just cruel. Don’t you realize that it would be much kinder to kill them outright than to starve them slowly? That’ll give us less problems in the future, too.” 

I shook my head hard in response. It was probably normal for a noble to lean toward mass executions to avoid leaving any loose ends, but death was a permanent solution to temporary problems. 

“Meh. Fine. I’ll settle on a decade of raised taxes and the execution of the mayor’s faction.” 

“Should we send priests to Hasse during Spring Prayer, then?” I asked. “The increased tax rate won’t be of much benefit to us next year if their harvest is poor.” 

“No, we won’t be sending any priests there this year. That’s set in stone,” Sylvester said, his dark-green eyes gleaming in a way that made it clear there was no room for debate. 

I had no choice but to assent. It was beyond me to overrule the word of the archduke, and it was hard to imagine that I would be able to lighten Hasse’s punishment any further than I already had. 

“I will send you to Hasse so that you may publicize the punishment. Make it clear that their lives were only saved thanks to the Saint of Ehrenfest’s grace. But if the citizens still do not understand the weight of their crime, well... you know what I’ll have to do.” 

Sylvester was no doubt insinuating that the city would be burned to the ground. I could also tell that my having to make the announcement while calling myself a compassionate saint was his way of punishing me for being so soft on Hasse. Ferdinand was looking down at me with a pleased sneer, clearly looking forward to it. 

“One more thing—turns out the land you blessed directly brought in a much better harvest than the land that only received chalices,” Sylvester said, lining up several boards in front of me. These were apparently documents from the tax officials listing how big each province’s harvests had been and how much tax had been collected. 

I looked over the boards, but despite what Sylvester had said, there didn’t seem to be much of a difference between them at all. “It seems to me that both the provinces and the Central District yielded an equally large harvest.” 

“Exactly. For the past few years, the lack of priests and shrine maidens has resulted in the Central District yielding much less than the other provinces. But this year, our harvest was just as large as theirs.” 

Sylvester went on to explain that, to ensure a bountiful harvest, the giebes usually poured their own mana into their land as well as the mana from the chalices. This, coupled with the blue priest shortage, had resulted in the provinces bringing in far greater yields than the Central District over the past few years. 

“Rozemyne. I hate to ask this, but... I want you to directly bless Ehrenfest’s land again during this Spring Prayer,” Sylvester forced out after a pause, clearly uncomfortable. It must have really pained him to ask for my help despite my recent complaints about being too busy. 

I was able to refuse his attempts to work Ferdinand to the bone in the castle, since that wasn’t something the High Priest should be doing in the first place. But if the archduke had determined that a job was necessary for the good of the duchy, as the High Bishop I couldn’t simply decline. A wave of dread washed over me as I thought about how many weeks I would need to spend chugging those disgusting potions, but I had no choice but to accept. 

“If you believe that is for the best, then...” I began, but Ferdinand protectively stood in front of me before I could finish. 

“Sylvester,” he said with a sigh, “Rozemyne will only bless land in the Central District. The other blue priests shall be entrusted with taking the chalices to the provinces; otherwise, we would be stealing their work and introducing problems that will impede the spring gathering.” 

“Sure, that’s good enough. Make it happen,” Sylvester said with a nod. “That’s everything I have to say.” 

Ferdinand began tapping a finger against his temple, presumably already planning out Spring Prayer. Both he and Sylvester looked as though they had more that they wanted to discuss with one another, and after a pause, Sylvester spoke again. 

“You can leave now, Rozemyne.” 

“In that case, once the Gilberta Company is ready to sell our goods, I shall return with the additional chalices I have been oh-so-kindly entrusted with,” I said, before making my exit and heading back to the playroom in Lessy. 

“Everyone, Aub Ehrenfest has given me permission to sell the karuta, picture books, and playing cards here. Those who would like to purchase their own, please discuss payment with your parents,” I announced upon my return. 

The children raced over to me, positively glowing with excitement. “So, if we buy karuta of our own, we can play them back at our summer estates?” one asked. 

“That’s right. Do your best and practice for next winter.” 

The little boy was joyfully beaming over having beaten his older brother at something for the first time. The brother in question was also wearing a grin, saying that he would win as soon as he had gotten some more practice at home. 

“Lady Rozemyne, will you be selling copies of each picture book as well?” one girl asked. 

“Of course.” 

Spreading the picture books was my number one goal here, and I was even eager to sell my new ones, if possible. The text was already done, and Wilma had completed most of the art the last time I checked, so if we hurried, there was a chance that we would be able to start selling the new volume just in time. 

...Maybe I should push back the day we sell our teaching materials and make just enough copies for the number of children here? I pondered, at which point a girl about as old as Cornelius came over to hesitantly ask a question. 

“Lady Rozemyne, I would like to learn about the gods before next year’s classes. Do you have any picture books for the autumn and winter subordinate gods?” 

“...Not yet, unfortunately. My workshop might have the autumn picture books ready before you all go home if they work extra hard, but the winter ones will have to wait until next year.” 

I had no idea whether there would be enough time for an entirely new picture book and didn’t want to make promises that I wasn’t certain I could keep. I would need to ask Lutz and Gil whether printing them earlier would be feasible, just to be sure. 

“Aw. They are such wonderfully made picture books. I would have loved there to be more...” 

“I am glad that you enjoy them so much. Let me see... I believe they will be ready by the next Starbind Ceremony, so I shall ask Aub Ehrenfest whether I may sell them to the nobles who come to the castle then. That way, they will be ready before you go to the Royal Academy next winter.” 

The Starbind Ceremony itself was for those who had come of age, but there was nothing stopping me from scheduling to sell the new picture books then and having the students fly over on their highbeasts. 

“I shall be looking forward to it,” the girl responded, offering me a graceful smile before stepping away. And moments later, I heard another noble girl enthusiastically say that she would ask her parents to buy every single book. 

From there, everyone started to discuss which of the books and toys they would purchase. I watched them eagerly talk among themselves out of the corner of my eye while speaking to the attendants in charge of the playroom. But while we were trying to work out the best day on which to sell my teaching materials, for a brief moment, something caught my attention. Amid all the excited chatter, Philine was sadly looking down at the floor.