Ascendance of a Bookworm (LN) - Volume 4.5 - Chapter SS3

The Road to Exclusive Business

The incredible news came near the start of summer.

It was hotter inside the dyeing workshop than outside, and the air was thick with the scent of fermenting plants. Crates packed with fresh white cloth from the weaving workshops were brought in and lined up according to their quality. Beside them, dyes that would sometimes bubble and pop were being stirred gently.

“C’mere, everyone! Big news!”

Dilla had been busy unpacking one of the crates when the foreman rushed into the workshop and started gesturing everybody over. “What’s the big idea?” she asked, tossing the piece of white cloth in her hands back with a grimace. “Effa, do you know what he’s on about?”

“He had to see the Dyeing Guild this morning. Maybe something happened there,” I replied as I set down my own piece of cloth and made my way over to the foreman. He was so excited that he began to explain before we were all even gathered around him.

“Lady Rozemyne, the archduke’s adopted daughter, apparently taught the guild a new dyeing method,” the foreman said, speaking so eagerly that his voice was almost a shout. “She wants to revive an old forgotten technique, then she’s gonna hold an event to decide which dyer gets her exclusive business! She wants a sample of cloth using the new method from every dyeing workshop, then she’s gonna pick her favorite. And whoever makes the one she picks is gonna get a new title!”

“Seriously?” came a voice. “A fancy title like that would make gettin’ a beruf certification easy! Just doin’ business with the archducal family is enough to branch off and start yer own workshop!”

Excitement swelled all throughout the workshop as the details of the event were explained. Dilla, however, shook her head in frustration. “Sure, that’s good news for anyone who wants to be a foreman,” she said, “but it doesn’t mean much to us. We don’t wanna learn new dyeing methods just ’cause some fancy noble thought them up. I mean, what’ll we do about the work we have now? Ain’t that right, Effa?”

She was seeking my agreement, but her words passed through one ear and out the other. I wasn’t interested in a beruf certification, but the thought of being Lady Rozemyne’s exclusive dyer was exciting beyond words.

Winning this would mean I can see Myne too, right?

These days, I had to rely on Lutz, Tuuli, and Gunther to tell me how Myne was doing. I was jealous that their jobs allowed them to meet with and speak to her. I wanted to see her myself. I wanted to hear her voice. Not to mention, here in the lower city, it was a mother’s job to make clothes for her family. If she was wearing something I had dyed, I could rest assured that I was doing my job as her mother even just a little bit more.

I want this job. I need it. But do I have what it takes to use this completely new dyeing technique and make cloth that suits Myne better than anything else?

The foreman continued as I fell into thought. “The thing is, not everyone here can turn in cloth,” he said. “Only the best of each workshop will get seen by the archducal family. This is the perfect chance to boost the Heuss Workshop’s name, so everyone, put your backs into it!”

In other words, I would need to pass the workshop’s own selection process just to get my cloth into the castle. I looked around me, at all the men desperate to get their beruf certifications and establish their own workshops. Jorg was even asking others to let him win. He was an amazing dyer. He had always striven for independence over a leherl contract, and he had spent such a long time honing his skills. I knew that, but I wasn’t about to let him beat me.

This is a new dyeing method. I should have a chance to win.

I pumped myself up and then spun on my heel, turning away from everyone asking about the new dyeing methods. The foreman explained that the Dyeing Guild would soon be receiving all the necessary documents. I had been in the middle of working with undyed white cloth before we were all interrupted, so I started sifting through it all, looking for pieces of a high enough quality for a member of the archducal family.

“Leaving the noisy men alone and getting back to work, huh?” Dilla asked as she returned to emptying the crates. “That’s the spirit.”

I found a piece of cloth that looked perfect and hugged it to my chest. “No, actually. I just thought that, with the whole workshop competing for this, I should make sure I get the best cloth. We don’t have much here that would suit a member of the archducal family, and the weaving workshops might not be able to complete any new orders in time, right?”

“You... You’re going to compete?”

“Mm-hmm. I want that title. Now, if you’ll excuse me...” I turned to the foreman. “I’m going to be participating with this cloth here. Also, I just remembered an important errand that I need to run, so I’m turning in for the day.”

Time off was generally dealt with on a first-come-first-served basis. The men snapped back to reality at my announcement and then swarmed the crates of white cloth, fighting over scraps. Meanwhile, I hurried out of the workshop, the cloth I had chosen still pressed to my chest.

I had succeeded in getting cloth for the competition, but I couldn’t waste something so expensive on a first attempt. I needed to learn and practice the new method. I got home, carefully stashed away my high-quality cloth, and then rushed to a cloth store to buy some much cheaper material.

It’s a good thing I bought this when I did. They’re going to be out of stock in no time.

My next stop was the Dyeing Guild, but my time spent there was brief. They didn’t have the documents for the new dyeing method yet, so I decided to look through dyes in the meantime.

“Hey, Effa. Can you give me the cloth you took yesterday?” Jorg asked as soon as I arrived at work the next morning.

Jorg was a man in his late thirties who desperately wanted to start his own workshop. He was particularly envious of Ingo, an especially young member of the Gutenbergs who had used his title to bring huge success to his carpentry workshop. Jorg always grumbled that he would achieve just as much if dyeing craftspeople could receive titles too.

“You know I’m aiming for the beruf certification, right? I really need this title and job to get it,” he continued, speaking with the utmost seriousness. He had a lot of supporters in the workshop thanks to his sincerity.

Dilla looked between Jorg and me with concerned eyes. “Effa, you don’t care about the certification, do you?” she asked. “You don’t need it like Jorg does. Just let him have this, okay?”

I couldn’t blame her for siding with him—from an outside perspective, my decision to participate had come completely out of nowhere. I wasn’t about to back down, though. Really, I wanted him to let me win.

“Sorry. I might not want the beruf certification, but I need that title. Jorg can get his certification whenever as long as he proves himself, but this is my only chance to get the archducal family’s exclusive business. He should be the one letting me win instead.”

Dilla balked in surprise; she hadn’t expected me to argue back. Jorg was just as taken aback, and his face was scrunched up in displeasure.

“Huh? But what for?” Jorg asked. “You’ve got a husband, so it’s not like you need a title to support your family.”

“If you think I’m going to let you win just because of that, you’ve got another thing coming. None of us here are working for fun, you know. We’ve got lives to lead and families to provide for. Not to mention, my husband is a soldier. Something could happen to him at any time. You’re not the only one who wants to win for their family, Jorg.”

I was almost never given the chance to meet with Lady Rozemyne, so I refused to believe I was wrong to strive toward the one opportunity within my reach. I was going to do everything in my power to make it happen.

“Do you think you can beat me...?” Jorg asked.

“I definitely won’t give up without a fight. Besides, I know more about what will suit Lady Rozemyne than you do. I might not know the details of the competition, since the documents aren’t here yet, but this is a new dyeing method. I think I have a chance.”

“Why, you...”

Jorg’s face began to twist in anger, but Dilla stepped in between us. “Okay, okay. That’s enough of that,” she said. “I was willing to back you up, Jorg, but that was before I realized that Effa is this determined. She’s said her piece and she’s not gonna let you win, so quit needlin’ her and get to work. The sooner you pick your cloth, the better,” she said, waving Jorg away.

The onlooking dyers grinned as Dilla started waving Jorg away. “Yeah, exactly!” one said. “Jorg missed his chance ’cause he was so busy dronin’ on about how he’s gonna win. It’s his own fault, really.”

“He wants to start his own workshop, right?” another added. “Surely he’s got connections with some weaving workshops.”

Jorg shook his head and walked away. “I was just thinking I could save on costs by using cloth from here...” he muttered. Even now, his posture pretty much oozed confidence. He had worked so hard and for so long that he wouldn’t be easy to beat. I needed to stay sharp.

My only advantages are my knowledge... and my love.

I didn’t know how the new dying method worked, so I decided to focus on selecting red dyes that would suit Myne for the time being. I needed something that would complement her hair, skin, and eyes. Meanwhile, Jorg stuck some old wooden boards and some thread onto a nearby stand and started to attach some cheap white cloth, ready to practice. I hadn’t seen anybody prepare to dye cloth like that before, and it was then that I realized—he was using the new method.

“How do you know the new method already, Jorg?” I asked. “Not even the guild received the documents yet.”

“Nah, this isn’t the new one. It’s the old one. There were two, remember. My old man’s over sixty, you see. He’s been wafting around with one foot in the grave, but he sprang back to life the moment I mentioned the revival of some old technique. He told me all about it. Even pulled out his old tools. Can’t say whether they’ll still work, though.”

Jorg’s father had worked hard in an attempt to secure a beruf certification, but when some high-status noblewoman from a neighboring duchy had married into Ehrenfest, all the techniques he had mastered were rendered useless almost overnight. He was forced to start again from scratch, now focusing on a single-color dyeing method, but he simply couldn’t keep up with the new apprentices. In the end, far from getting his beruf certification, he had been forced to renew his lehange contract time and time again. It was an unfortunate cycle that had snuffed out his hopes and dreams.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Using techniques from your dad is a pretty cheap move,” Barno complained with a grimace. He was likewise looking to win the title.

“What’s wrong with me using all the tools I can get my hands on?” Jorg replied. “I need a beruf certification, so I’m gonna do whatever I can to get one. I will win this.” He spoke so forcefully that I could practically feel Barno shrink back a little. My eyes flitted between them both; everyone had their own motivations here, but that wasn’t going to deter me.

Tomorrow’s Earthday, which means Tuuli will return home tonight for sure.

And sure enough...

“I’m home, Mom. Big news!” Tuuli exclaimed as she rushed through the front door. It wasn’t long after sixth bell. Her green hair was tied in a braid that swayed ever so slightly behind her head, and her chest heaved with each breath.

“Yaaay! Welcome home!” Kamil called out. He rushed out to greet his big sister and then started pouring her some water.

“The workshop is a mess right now with all the news,” I said, “but I’m guessing that you and the Gilberta Company know even more than we do.”

“Probably. That’s why I rushed home. I’ve never been this impatient for a weekend before,” Tuuli said. She thanked Kamil for the water and then moved to help with dinner as we continued our conversation. “Okay. So, this happened when I went to deliver a hairpin to the temple...”

“Aww, talking about Lady Rozemyne again?” Kamil complained. He puffed out his cheeks and glared at Tuuli.

“Making hairpins for Lady Rozemyne is part of my job. If you’re going to complain, I won’t give you the book I brought from her workshop.”

“Ooh! I want the book! I want the book! Thanks, Lady Rozemyne!”

Tuuli was able to silence Kamil with a book printed in the temple. I would normally have scolded him for not helping with dinner, but I decided that he was better preoccupied.

“So?” I asked. “What happened, Tuuli?”

“This new dyeing method is actually something she gave to the Gilberta Company. I know how it works, since she demonstrated it in the temple workshop. Let’s work together so that you can get her exclusive business.”

The next day, on Earthday, Tuuli and I spread out some practice cloth and started thinking about how to dye it. My greatest weapon was all my knowledge of the archduke’s adopted daughter—of Myne. I already knew what her hair and skin were like, and I could learn through Tuuli about the kinds of designs she tended to wear, so I was in a good position to produce something that would really suit her. I needed to use this advantage to its fullest.

“I know what colors will suit Lady Rozemyne the most, but what about the design...?” I mused aloud. “I’ve never drawn something to be dyed before, and I don’t have much of an eye for art.” My main area of expertise was dyeing cloth a single, solid color, so this new method was entirely new to me. I also hadn’t practiced any designs that would properly complement a noble.

“Okay. I’ll draw the outline then. I’ve been practicing art as part of my hairpin and embroidery research,” Tuuli said casually.

I widened my eyes at how much she had grown. At what point had she learned so many skills? She had always been a hard and dedicated worker, though, so it wasn’t too much of a surprise. It had probably only seemed so strange because I wasn’t seeing her anywhere near as often, what with her moving to live with the Gilberta Company as a leherl. My daughter was growing even more than I had imagined, and now she shone like the sun to me.

“I see. You’ve learned to draw... I’ll leave that part to you, then, Tuuli.”

“I think Lady Rozemyne will want a design like last year’s for the coming winter,” Tuuli said. She went on to tell me about the outfits that Myne was wearing now, including one that Tuuli had based on the baptism clothes I altered so long ago. “Noble fashion is really complicated. I studied a lot and put my all into the design, but even then, only a small part of what I gave them was actually used. There were a lot of really important things that I apparently hadn’t included, and the final design ended up pretty different as a result.”

We had thought the altered clothing looked appropriate for a rich girl, but as it turned out, it wasn’t even close to what actual nobles wore.

“But still, they used some of your design, didn’t they?” I asked. “You just need to adapt a little more in preparation for next time. She told you what they changed, right?”

“More or less. I messed up so much, though. I can’t help but be a little mad at myself...” Tuuli grumbled. She was looking vexed, so I reached out and stroked her hair. As far as I was concerned, she was working harder than anyone could reasonably expect.

“It’s thanks to your hard work that I’m able to know what kind of clothes Lady Rozemyne wears,” I said. “That’s massively helpful in itself. Now, what sorts of patterns would suit those designs? Has she settled on one for her winter hairpin? You can draw them now, can’t you? Please. I’m all ears.”

“Leave it to me,” Tuuli replied. She took out a pen and some paper with a proud smile, and the sound of scratching soon filled the air as she began drawing a rlyzinie. “I was thinking of going with rlyzinies this time. They’ll be perfect for this competition, won’t they? And with how tiny Lady Rozemyne is, a bunch of small, scattered flowers will look cuter on her than a few big ones.”

“Hmm. That would be cute, but shape alone won’t be enough to identify the rlyzinies. I also think a deeper red would suit Lady Rozemyne best,” I said, envisioning the flowers in my head. Tuuli chuckled and said that I was welcome to choose the colors. Rlyzinies were naturally red, but I thought a darker color would complement Myne even more.

“Mom, Tuuli, why do you talk about such boring things all the time? Hurry up and finish work already...” Kamil whined.

“Sorry, Kamil. This is something I can only talk about with Tuuli here, so...”

“But you’ve been saying the same things over and over!” he moaned. He had a point too; we had been talking about the dyeing competition ever since the evening before when Tuuli came home. I understood why he was so fed up, but we needed to sort all these details out now. I couldn’t afford to wait for the next Earthday.

As I struggled to think of something to say, Gunther walked in and flicked Kamil on the forehead. “Your mother’s tryin’ to get exclusive business with Lady Rozemyne, so don’t get in her way. A real man supports his family when they’re working hard,” he said with a laugh. He then looked at me. “Good luck, Effa. Kamil, how about we go grab something to eat? Whaddaya want? We can go to the food stands.”

“I want a buchlette! One with loads of sausage inside!”

“C’mon, I’m gonna need more than just a buchlette!”

Gunther and Kamil eagerly headed out, chattering about what to eat for lunch all the while. As the door shut behind them, Tuuli looked at me with a smirk.

“So, Mom... Did you get the hots for Dad just now?”

“I suppose...” I replied with a knowing smile. “Just remember, Tuuli—when you get married, make sure you do what I did. Pick someone who loves and supports your dreams.”

Jorg had successfully worked with his dad to revive an old technique, and I could see his dyeing getting better by the day. Still, I couldn’t afford to lose. I spread out a piece of practice cloth, added some wax based on the rlyzinie illustration that Tuuli had drawn, and then tried dyeing it in various ways. I ended up deciding on both the traditional red of a rlyzinie and the darker shade that would complement Myne so well.

I wonder whether I could make the cloth gradually change from one shade to the other...?

If possible, I wanted to change the shade by dyeing it several times as Myne had suggested. I hadn’t seen a demonstration and was relying entirely on the explanation that Tuuli had given me, however, so it wasn’t going to be easy.

“Hmm...” Jorg grumbled, looking at my practice cloth. “So that’s why you said you’d be better at picking cloth for Lady Rozemyne, huh? Your daughter makes her hairpins. You sure have an advantage here.”

“Maybe. But there’s nothing wrong with using every advantage one has, now is there?”

“This is well above anything my old man gave me,” Jorg said. “You’ve had a huge advantage since before this contest even began.”

Barno nodded along and shouted out that it certainly was unfair. Then, more and more people started expressing their agreement.

“I mean, how good of a job you do doesn’t even matter, does it?” Jorg continued. “You’ve just gotta stick your name on whatever piece of cloth is yours and they’ll pick it. That’s exactly the kind of thing a noble would do.”

I struggled to hide my frustration. I couldn’t deny that my extra knowledge put me in a better position than the other dyers, but to say I would win based on nothing more than Myne recognizing my name was outrageous.

“If my name alone was enough, I wouldn’t be working this hard,” I shot back.

“That doesn’t prove anything. You probably still need to make something half-decent so the cheating’s less obvious,” Barno said.

“Jorg, Barno, that’s enough,” the foreman interjected. “If all this cheating nonsense were true, Effa would have been picked from the start, and nobody else would have been given this new dyeing method. There wouldn’t be any point in holding this big competition.”

As much as I appreciated the assistance, everyone was still sure that I would win based on favoritism alone. My pride as a dyer wouldn’t stand for that; the very thought that they believed I couldn’t win on my own merits had me steaming with anger. I mean, Myne would absolutely pick whichever piece of cloth had my name on it—there was no doubt about that—but that wasn’t how I wanted to win.

“How about this—we label our pieces with numbers rather than names to keep things totally anonymous,” I declared angrily. “We’ll even have people from the Dyeing Guild set everything up. That way, the Gilberta Company merchants can’t stealthily tell any of the nobles who made what. Will that stop all this whining?” I asked, placing my hands on my hips as though I were scolding some rebellious child. My tone was so forceful that Jorg and the others fearfully stepped back.

“What the...? Do you really think you can win with a handicap like that?” Jorg asked. “Once we get the Dyeing Guild involved, there’s no going back. You’ll be stuck with these new rules no matter how much you cry about ’em.”

“You’re all going to be the ones crying. If you still can’t win when my so-called ‘advantage’ is gone, forget about the title. You’ll never even get your beruf certification!” I said with a dismissive sniff.

Jorg exchanged an awkward glance with Barno. “Ngh... Just you wait!” he shouted. “I’ve got my old man’s tech here. I won’t lose!”

“See, Jorg? You’re gettin’ help from your family too,” Dilla said with one eyebrow raised. “Don’t you have just as much of an advantage?”

“Yeah! That’s just as unfair!” Barno said with a disgruntled nod. Once again, the others voiced their agreement as well.

“It doesn’t bother me,” I said with a wave of my hand. “Lady Rozemyne wants to revive the old techniques too, right? There’s nothing she’d want more than for people who know the otherwise forgotten methods to start bringing them back.”

Dilla stared at me in wide-eyed shock, while Jorg looked equally as surprised. “Effa...” Dilla muttered. “You—”

“Really. It’s fine,” I said. “I know my cloth is going to suit Lady Rozemyne better than anyone else’s.”

And so, through the foreman, we petitioned the Dyeing Guild to implement our new rules. Our terms were accepted by the Gilberta Company, and we craftspeople could work knowing that we were going to be judged fairly.

I ignored the loud goings-on around me and focused entirely on dyeing the rlyzinies a pleasant red. They were known to symbolize familial affection, and I dyed them again and again, hoping that Myne would sense my love. As the dark reds turned to warm crimson, the cloth ended up with flowers of varying shades.

Soon enough, everyone laid out their finished cloth, and the Heuss Workshop selected Jorg’s and my work to be sent to the castle. Jorg was praised for reviving his father’s old techniques, while I was praised for adopting the new technique and for having the courage to say that my cloth would suit Lady Rozemyne the best.

In the end, my cloth made it to the final selection process for Lady Rozemyne, and it was ultimately chosen for her new winter outfit. I did not receive the title, however, nor was I given her exclusive business. It seemed that she hadn’t been able to choose one from the final three participants, so she had said that she would make her decision next season.

The foreman, who was rejoicing at the thought of the archducal family asking for our business, patted me on the back and said, “I knew you could do it, Effa!” It was nice to know he had believed in me, but I was more frustrated that I hadn’t dyed my cloth with enough love for Myne to recognize it was from me.

“They’re ordering from us, sure, but I didn’t get her exclusive business...” I muttered.

“You’re looking at this all wrong,” Jorg said with a grin. He gave me an encouraging slap on the back. “I didn’t think you’d get any work without your name to rely on, but here we are. You weren’t all talk after all. Your dyeing technique was clever, and your reds really were something else. You’ll just need to try a little harder next time, yeah?”

“Thanks, Jorg. And you got the beruf certification you wanted so much, right? Congratulations,” I replied, unable to keep my frustrations from showing through my eyes.

Jorg looked down at me and cackled with amusement. “What’s with that expression?” he asked. “You don’t look all that happy for me.”

“I mean, the archducal family selected neither of us for the title, but you got what you were looking for anyway. It’s not fair...” I said. He had gotten his certification for receiving business orders from an archnoble and for his contribution to the revival of an old technique.

“No helping that. We were aiming for different things. Shouldn’t you just be glad that nobody else was chosen? You’ve got a second chance to make your dream come true. We’ll see if you get it before I manage to set up my own workshop.”

He was right. Things weren’t over yet. I was getting a second chance.

“Yeah,” I said. “Next time for sure.”

I won’t miss this opportunity again.

The next competition was going to be for spring, which meant the cloth would need to be green. I clenched my fists and turned to the future, wondering how I would go about dyeing this one. The second battle had already begun.