Royalty and Nobles from Other Duchies
When there was more than one archduke candidate present for a particular duchy, they all went up together during the greetings, while duchies without any sent an archnoble student of the highest year. I observed the process and absorbed the unwritten laws until it was eventually Ehrenfest’s turn. Wilfried stood up at once, but Brunhilde had to help me down from my chair.
“Look, she can’t even get up on her own.”
Quiet snickering could be heard from among the other students. Wilfried wore a stiff expression as he tried to endure them, but the way his fists were clenched told me that the whispers were getting to him a lot more than they were me.
I guess that makes sense. He’s not at all used to being insulted.
I had been called tiny ever since my commoner days, and nobles had used their status to insult me on numerous occasions in the past. It was one thing to be insulted by people I knew, but strangers? That didn’t bother me in the least. I was used to it, but the same couldn’t be said for Wilfried.
“Wilfried, I care not what strangers have to say about me. I know that I have many friends and allies by my side,” I whispered, placing a hand on his balled fist. Our retainers gave small nods.
“Right. Let’s go, Rozemyne.”
Still wearing a hard expression, Wilfried matched my walking speed as we headed straight to the royalty’s table with our retainers.
I moved as gracefully as I could, making sure to keep my back straight, a smile on my face, and my eyes forward. These instructions had been so thoroughly beaten into me that walking gracefully with a fake smile was now like second nature to me.
We knelt in front of the royalty’s table, crossed our arms in front of our chests, hung our heads, and then spoke the traditional greeting used when meeting someone for the first time. The prince gave a slight nod of recognition in response, regarding us with beautiful gray eyes that were completely unobscured by his regal blond hair.
Back in Ehrenfest, I had muttered something about how disappointed I would be if the prince turned out to be ugly, but Ferdinand had assured me that those of such high status were generally very attractive, as only the most beautiful of women were taken as wives. The sight before me pretty much confirmed that he was right—surely one had to have come from a long line of stunning people to end up looking like this.
“Prince Anastasius, may we pray for a blessing in appreciation of this serendipitous meeting, ordained by the harsh judgment of Ewigeliebe the God of Life?”
“You may.”
He replied as expected, and so Wilfried and I poured mana into our rings to give a blessing. I put in just the tiniest amount so as to not overdo it.
...Perfect.
I let out a relieved sigh at the fact my blessing hadn’t been any larger than Wilfried’s before continuing the greeting.
“It is an honor to meet you, Prince Anastasius. We are Wilfried and Rozemyne of Ehrenfest, here to learn to become proper nobles fit to serve Yurgenschmidt. May the future be bright,” we said together.
Once we had finished greeting Anastasius, he told us to raise our heads. We did so slowly, and when I saw the prince’s face again, I noticed he was gazing down at me with a somewhat displeased frown. He looked me over from head to toe, then sniffed.
“Rozemyne, was it? You are the so-called Saint of Ehrenfest? The rumors claimed you have unparalleled beauty and wisdom, enough mana to be adopted by an archduke, and a compassionate heart that moves even the stoniest of men to tears. How laughable. Must such reports always be so untrustworthy?”
What the heck?! Since when has my reputation been that unreasonable?! I’m more confused than anyone right now!
“It is often the case that time and distance distorts the truth,” I replied carefully. “This is my first time hearing of any such rumors. I can only imagine there were jesters somewhere along the line who exaggerated things further for their own amusement.” It was little wonder the other nobles were laughing at me if they had heard all these rumors as well—that amount of praise was much too excessive for someone who looked young enough to have just recently been baptized.
My attempt to brush aside the subject didn’t seem to please Anastasius. “Good grief...” he said, raising an unamused eyebrow. “Ehrenfest must be in truly dire straits if they have no choice but to prop up such a middling girl as a saint.”
“That is exactly correct, Prince Anastasius. Your wisdom truly does befit your status,” I said with a smile, planning to stroke his ego and get this over with. “As you know, Ehrenfest is a dearly lacking duchy with nothing of note. Our mana shortage is so great that the archduke had no choice but to adopt me and build me up as a saint. Our situation is so dire, in fact, that we hopelessly pray for the flowers we offered to the gods to perhaps return to us one day.”
Like you don’t know it’s your fault. We were a backwater duchy struggling to survive to begin with, and then you royals had your dumb civil war that caused so much damage that you had to steal mana from all your duchies just to keep functioning. At least give back the priests you took for the Sovereign temple.
While complaining on the inside, I put a hand on my cheek and tilted my head in a generic worried pose. The Sovereignty was probably carrying on just fine; they had compensated for their purge-induced mana shortage by taking nobles and priests from other duchies, who were now facing serious difficulties themselves as a result. It was annoying to be mocked by a member of the family that had caused all the problems in the first place.
“They say you became a saint to bring order back to your duchy, but Ehrenfest hardly seems better off with you. In fact, were you not attacked by nobles of your own duchy, even?”
“Indeed. Whether big or small, there is always some chaos following a shift in power. I am just glad I was the only victim.”
Anastasius raised an eyebrow again, then waved a bored hand in our direction. That was a sign for us to leave, so Wilfried and I stood and excused ourselves.
Whew, that went well. Good, good.
We weren’t done yet though—if anything, that was only the beginning.
I pumped myself up and started approaching the other tables. The greater and middle duchies from ranks one through five were not on bad terms with Ehrenfest, so each greeting ended after the blessings and the exchange of a few polite words.
Then it came time for Ahrensbach the Sixth. Detlinde welcomed us with a kind smile, looking exactly like Georgine.
“Lady Detlinde, may we pray for a blessing in appreciation of this serendipitous meeting, ordained by the harsh judgment of Ewigeliebe the God of Life?”
“You may.”
Once the blessings were finished, Detlinde smiled. “I am delighted to finally meet you, Wilfried. You invited my mother to visit Ehrenfest two years ago, did you not? She was going to bring me with her. I was ever so excited to meet you for the first time; we children of archdukes are not afforded many opportunities to visit family in other duchies, are we?” she asked.
The innocent smile on her face, plus the fact she was referring to Wilfried without any title, made it hard to tell whether she was treating him as close family or someone not even worth recognizing as a rival archduke candidate.
“Of course, the visit was sadly canceled due to the attack on your family,” she continued. “I was devastated—we are cousins, after all. I pray that we can at least be friendly together here at the Royal Academy.”
“I pray for the same,” Wilfried replied, a polite smile on his face.
Detlinde’s own smile deepened. “No need to be so formal. We are family. You may rely on me whenever necessary; I am a fourth-year and know much that can help you.”
“We are honored,” Wilfried and I replied together.
Detlinde put a hand on her cheek and tilted her head slightly. “So, Wilfried... I am told that Rozemyne was poisoned and forced to sleep within a jureve. It is not always the case that the potions of one’s parents will work for a child, and sleeping for two years straight is quite rare indeed. How is she doing? Is she well? It must have placed a lot of strain on her body,” she said. But for all the worry in her voice, she didn’t so much as glance in my direction.
“Rozemyne is fine,” Wilfried answered. “As you can see, she has recovered enough to attend the Academy without issue. Your kindness is much appreciated, Lady Detlinde.”
“Thank you ever so much for worrying about me, Lady Detlinde. I have always been of poor health, so I am used to being bedridden,” I added. “Even so, I am fortunate enough to have already recovered.”
“I see. Does this mean I will be able to visit Ehrenfest this summer then? I would like to spend even more time with you, Wilfried.”
It was then that I realized she wasn’t affording me so much as a smile. Her attention was focused entirely on Wilfried.
Okay, this is just too blatant. What’s her goal here? Maybe she just doesn’t like me, which is understandable enough, but it’s possible that she’s planning something. The only problem is, I have no idea how much she actually knows.
“Permission from Aub Ehrenfest is required before any noble from another duchy can visit, so I can give no answer on my own.”
“True. In that case, I hope you will convince him for me, Wilfried.”
Our greeting with Ahrensbach ended with me being entirely ignored, and from there, we started moving to the next table. I thought things over as I stood up.
So, it seems that even the prince knows I was attacked by nobles from Ehrenfest. Just how much information has leaked, exactly? Is it common knowledge throughout noble society that I was in a coma for the past two years? Or was Detlinde warning me that Ahrensbach knows absolutely everything that happens in our duchy?
I had no answers to those questions, and so to avoid leaking any information myself, I decided to return any inquiries sent my way with vague smiles and ambiguous responses.
The middle and lesser duchies holding ranks seven through twelve were currently engaged in a brutal battle against Ehrenfest to preserve their positions. As these ranks truly could turn on a dime, they met us with harsh words and spiteful insults, all commenting that they hadn’t expected the Saint of Ehrenfest to be so tiny. Behind their sneers, however, it was clear they had been afraid of us overtaking them. As a result, seeing that I wasn’t the saint they had feared actually came as a relief to them.
I blew through the greetings with three set phrases powerful enough to handle whatever was thrown at me: “As I am still recovering, there is not much I can do,” “Let us all work to grow together,” and “I am glad to see that you consider me an equal.”
I wasn’t yet sure how much of an impact a change in the rankings would really have, but with how insulting the other duchies were being, I was feeling motivated to do my best and work my way up.
Alright. Time to take the Better Grades Committee seriously.
Once we had finished greeting those above us, it was time for us to be greeted by the lower ranks. As expected, they also viewed us with hostility—including those from Frenbeltag, the duchy to the west of Ehrenfest.
Frenbeltag was currently fifteenth, the lowest rank of any middle duchy. They had been on the losing side of the civil war, and I recalled that they had been in the middle of rebuilding themselves when I went into my coma. There had been two years when I helped to fill up their small chalices, and their rank was a clear indication that they were still struggling to get back on their feet.
That maaay have something to do with me refusing to fill chalices from other duchies...
Sylvester had been accepting chalices year after year, and so when winter came three years ago, I informed him that I would no longer be filling them going forward. On top of that, there was also my ending up in a coma; even if Sylvester had accepted the chalices again, it was hard to imagine Ehrenfest having the capacity to help other duchies when even Wilfried and Charlotte had to rush around the Central District refilling it with mana. Frenbeltag had no doubt fallen even further down the rankings due to losing this support.
“Lord Wilfried, Lady Rozemyne. May I pray for a blessing in appreciation of this serendipitous meeting, ordained by the harsh judgment of Ewigeliebe the God of Life?”
“You may.”
“I am Rudiger of Frenbeltag, and I am a fifth-year student here at the Royal Academy. If you will excuse my saying so, Lord Wilfried and I share much blood owing to our parents being siblings,” he said after kneeling down and blessing us.
As one would expect given his comment, Rudiger looked a lot like Wilfried—so much so that they really could have been mistaken for brothers when standing next to each other. The two most notably shared the same hair color, though Rudiger also had the same indigo eyes as Charlotte.
“I pray that we can have a good relationship, just as our parents do,” Rudiger added.
“We feel the same.”
Once everyone had exchanged their greetings, the food was brought in. I would be eating with Hartmut, Cornelius, and Leonore. Brunhilde would serve me, while Angelica stood guard.
After taking my first bite, I pursed my lips in thought. I had been expecting the cooking in the Sovereignty to be more refined than what I was used to, since Ehrenfest was such a country province, but it just tasted like normal food. I could guess that the cuisine here was somewhat standardized, since all the duchies got together each year for the Royal Academy and the Archduke Conference.
The food wasn’t noticeably good, but it did use ingredients that weren’t available in Ehrenfest. I was curious to know what else they had, though I couldn’t imagine this would be easy to find out, since I wasn’t allowed to go into the food storage area.
“It tastes a bit... unremarkable,” I observed.
“A few years ago, I thought this was the most delicious food in the world,” Hartmut replied with a wry smile. The food at the dormitory had changed three years ago and had only continued to improve since then, which was probably due to the chefs getting used to the new styles.
“Well, I suppose we shouldn’t talk about the food too much,” I said. We then started discussing the greetings, and Hartmut complimented me on how smoothly I changed the subject. There was a lot we needed to think about and discuss when it came to our relations to other duchies, but we couldn’t talk about it here; it needed to wait until we returned to the dormitory.
“The fact that you have only recently awoken from your slumber is the perfect excuse to avoid post-meal socializing. You can remain seated this year; leave the information gathering to me.”
“Very well, Hartmut. I entrust that all to you.”
We started making plans as we continued our meal, until eventually we were served dessert: galettes with rutreb jam, plus cute little sweets in the shape of birds. The plates practically shone, and the presentation was perfect. Neither Hugo nor Ella had the artistic knack for decorating plates like this. The dessert looked so nice that I really wanted to take it back with me just so they could learn from it.
“Feels like a waste to actually eat it...” I said before taking a bite of the galette. The flavors exploded in my mouth with such force that I jerked back in my seat, at a complete loss for words. It wasn’t that the food tasted good—rather, the sweetness was offensively over the top, so much so that I couldn’t manage another bite. Since sugar was considered an expensive luxury, it was clear the chefs had thought it best to use as much as possible.
Guhhh... My mouth feels all gritty now.
I set down my cutlery and reached for my drink. There were a few mutters of, “At least the first bite or two tastes nice,” from those eating with me, but they were all making similar expressions. It just went to show that restraint was important in all things.
“Will my recipes truly catch on in the Sovereignty?” I asked, setting my cup down with a sigh. “If they think this is delicious here, it might be more difficult than I thought.”
“I believe they will, but it will take a considerable amount of time for the chefs to learn your techniques and master the flavors,” Cornelius replied. “Even the head chef of our estate had great difficulty.”
I nodded slowly. Cornelius was right that it would take some time for the chefs to get up to par once I spread the recipes, but did that mean I would have to battle with this overbearing sweetness at every tea party I was invited to until then?
Bwuh... Now I’m even more scared of going to them.
“Spreading your recipes is a good idea, Lady Rozemyne, but I think you should introduce them gradually rather than all at once. Am I right to assume you know more than what is available in your recipe book?” Hartmut asked with a raised eyebrow. It seemed as though he was testing me.
I wiped my mouth, then answered with a smile. “Of course. There are some I don’t mind making public, some I am happy to share with Ehrenfest’s leaders, some I am willing to share with my guardians, and some I would much rather keep to myself. I keep my public and private plans strictly separate, even when it comes to recipes.”
Hartmut’s eyes started sparkling with interest. “Then I am looking forward to learning about them. So, how do you intend to establish your reputation as a saint here at the Royal Academy?”
“Hm? There is no need for that. I wish to live a humble life as a normal student.”
If everyone was going to talk about how underwhelming of a saint I was and how much my reputation preceded me, then I wanted to go all the way and live out my school days as a normal student. My plan was to hide out in the library and spend as much time there as possible.
Hartmut, however, seemed to disagree. He frowned at my response, then quickly forced a smile back onto his face. His expression looked calm on the surface, but it carried an intensity that made it clear there was no room for debate.
“Unfortunately, that is not an option,” he said. “The presence of a saint is absolutely necessary for increasing Ehrenfest’s influence.”
Um... Did I just flip some weird switch inside him?
For some reason, Hartmut began espousing at length about his first encounter with the legend of my sainthood. Ottilie had apparently brought him with her to see my baptism, then pointed up at me and explained that she would be serving me from now on. The young Hartmut had been ashamed to hear that his mother was serving someone who was not only a child, but an archnoble of the same status as them—even if said archnoble was about to be adopted by the archduke.
“However, when you returned the blessing at your ceremony, blue light rained down upon the entire hall, covering all the attendees at once. It was the biggest blessing I had ever seen in my life, and the first time that watching one had ever moved me,” Hartmut explained, making it clear that the memory was deeply engraved in his heart.
“That was an evil plot concocted by my guardians—all part of a plan to force nobles to accept my adoption,” I explained. “You were fooled, Hartmut. They played you like a harspiel. I am no saint.”
“Your baptism is not the only reason I understand you are a true saint, Lady Rozemyne.”
When autumn came and Hartmut heard from his mother about my desperate efforts to save Wilfried’s future, his only thought had been that I should have used the opportunity to kick Wilfried down and become the archduchess myself. He had maintained that he would have crushed Wilfried into the dirt had he been my retainer, then advised his mother on what to tell me, though she refused to pass the information on.
“Lady Rozemyne does not wish for such a thing. She thinks only of raising others up, not dragging them down,” she had told him. “You would be better off coming up with ways to strengthen the legend of her sainthood while improving the lives of those around her.”
“And so I did just that,” Hartmut said. “In the end, however, nothing I thought up surpassed what Lord Ferdinand himself was already putting into motion.”
I don’t even want to know what plans he concocted...
“Furthermore, your acts prove your sainthood more than anything else could, Lady Rozemyne. I have not heard of anyone else giving a blessing simply by offering music to the gods at their winter debut. The light that shone from your fingers as you strummed the harspiel was truly stunning in its beauty. Your blessing to Leidenschaft drifted slowly to the ceiling while spreading throughout the hall, remember?”
Um... Did it? I was in such a panic over screwing up that I don’t really recall what happened.
The only thing I could remember was being shocked at the sudden development and then Ferdinand forcibly carrying me out. I had been frantically trying to stop the blessing in its entirety, but I guess it hadn’t looked that way to everyone else.
“It was from that point onward that I knew for sure: you are a saint who has far surpassed even what Lord Ferdinand has planned,” Hartmut concluded. “I wish for everyone else to consider you as much of a saint as I do, and to that end, I will spare no expense.”
My cheek twitched. Up to this point, I had thought of Hartmut as a mini Justus with some common sense, but that couldn’t have been further from the truth. He was genuinely skilled, which meant he had the power to accelerate the spread of my sainthood faster than I could ever hope to contain.
Is it just me, or have I taken someone as my retainer that I reeeally shouldn’t have?
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