Ascendance of a Bookworm (LN) - Volume 5.12 - Chapter 18

The Inauguration Ceremony

“Lady Rozemyne, come with me, if you would.”

I was sitting in the waiting room when the Sovereign scholar serving as our guide called out. Ferdinand escorted me over to him. There was a limit to how many retainers could accompany us during the inauguration ceremony—four guard knights, one scholar, and one attendant per duchy—so we’d chosen Eckhart, Cornelius, Leonore, and Angelica as my knights, Hartmut as my scholar, and Lieseleta as my attendant.

“Please wait here,” the guide said.

We stopped and saw figures lined up in front of the wide-open doors to the auditorium. I recognized them as Trauerqual and Magdalena with their retainers.

“Enter, those of the newly established duchy of Blumenfeld,” Eglantine called.

The two ex-royals entered the auditorium to the cheers of the gathered nobles. I was relieved to know that Trauerqual was being welcomed as an aub despite giving up the throne. The door was shut behind them.

That was Lady Magdalena with Lord Trauerqual, wasn’t it?

Magdalena was his third wife; it was unthinkable for her to be with him in a public setting like the Archduke Conference. Even if the first wife was stricken with illness, the second wife would take her place.

“Ferdinand, what happened to Lady Ralfrieda?” I asked.

“Who can say? Perhaps she was held accountable for putting Raublut forward to become the knight commander in the first place, then sent back to Gilessenmeyer after their divorce. Rarely are these matters made public.”

“If you are speaking about Mother, then yes, she was held accountable and reduced to the status of a third wife,” said a voice behind us. “Lady Magdalena took her place. It would seem Father prioritized his public image over the woman who spent years and years supporting him.”

We turned around and saw Sigiswald with his wife Nahelache. He was clearly displeased about his mother’s reduction in status, but Ferdinand did not agree.

“That was a natural decision for a leader to make. The complexity of ruling a new duchy depends greatly on its first wife.”

The duchy Trauerqual was going to rule included half of Old Werkestock. Its land was all but devoid of mana, and the nobles there despised the royal family for treating them with disdain after the civil war. Magdalena, who had taken part in capturing Raublut, would surely have a much easier time gaining the duchy’s support and sympathy than Ralfrieda, who had put him forward to become the knight commander. And she was from Dunkelfelger.

I’m just going to pretend I didn’t hear Ferdinand mutter, “It seems Lord Trauerqual can make wise decisions when he needs to.”

“Furthermore,” Ferdinand continued, “this arrangement is for Lady Ralfrieda’s benefit. As a first wife, she would have faced a storm of criticisms, but as a third wife, she can comfortably support Lord Trauerqual from the shadows.”

Trauerqual could easily have divorced her and sent her back home. Instead, he had given her the means to live in peace and with the permission of his other wives. One could say Ralfrieda was being treated exceptionally well.

“You need not worry about your mother,” Ferdinand concluded. I nodded my agreement.

“If you would excuse us, Lady Rozemyne, Lord Sigiswald must enter the auditorium ahead of you,” said the Sovereign scholar guiding him and Nahelache, his tone sincerely apologetic. “May we pass?”

As it stood, Sigiswald and Nahelache were still technically members of the royal family—their status wouldn’t change until their inauguration. They must have come from the waiting room for royals, not archducal couples, which was farther away and explained why we had arrived outside the auditorium before them.

“Of course,” I replied, making way for them. “Lord Trauerqual went in before you arrived. You must be in quite a rush.”

The scholar urged Sigiswald and Nahelache to hurry themselves, but it was no use; they moved slowly and elegantly despite the risk that they might not be ready in time.

“You really should move faster,” I said. “We did not get here early—the two of you arrived late.”

“Does it matter?” Sigiswald replied. “No matter how long we take, the ceremony cannot proceed without me.” For some strange reason, he still genuinely believed the world should revolve around him. That might have been appropriate behavior for a royal, but times were changing. He wasn’t even wearing a black cape anymore, since he was about to receive a cape of his duchy’s color.

“Zent Eglantine decides the pace of today’s inauguration, not you. The doors will open whether you are ready or not, and you will expose yourself to the entire country as someone too foolish to even line up properly.”

Sigiswald met my warning with a look of surprise. Had no one else been in a position to give frank advice to a semi-royal, or had they simply not expected a man of his status to be completely blind to something so obvious?

“Quickly now,” the guide said. “The door is about to open.”

Sigiswald, Nahelache, and their retainers rushed to stand in front of the door. Their placement wasn’t perfect, but it was good enough that the nobles in the auditorium probably wouldn’t realize they had only barely made it in time.

“Enter, those of the newly established duchy of Korinthsdaum.”

Sigiswald and Nahelache advanced upon hearing Eglantine’s call, their retainers in formation around them. Nobles cheered as they made their entrance. The doors soon closed behind them, and their guide thanked me for my assistance before leaving.

“His arrogance will cause him great trouble as an aub,” Ferdinand remarked, a little taken aback. “Aub Drewanchel should praise Lady Adolphine’s sagacity in securing a speedy divorce.”

Indeed, it would be problematic if Sigiswald continued to act like a royal after becoming an archduke, and reeducating him would prove quite the task. It had surprised me how firmly Adolphine pushed for a divorce, but now I couldn’t blame her in the least.

“It took seeing Lord Sigiswald with Lady Nahelache for me to realize just how cold and distant he was with Lady Adolphine,” I said. “An astute observer can gauge the strength of a couple’s relationship purely by how close they stand to each other.” I wouldn’t have described it as obvious, but they were unconsciously letting their feelings show.

“Oh...?” Ferdinand murmured.

Hmm? He looks like he’s plotting something...

I read his expression and immediately tensed up.

“Tell me, then—how close would you expect a couple on good terms to stand?” Ferdinand asked with an inscrutable look on his face.

“Hm? Umm... If we use Sylvester and Florencia or Lord Anastasius and Zent Eglantine as a reference, maybe about... this close?” I took a small step closer to him while trying to envision the couples we knew.

“I see. In that case, stay this distance from me until the Archduke Conference is over.”

“I recognize that look on your face, Ferdinand—it’s the look of a man plotting something.” I thrust a finger at him. “I can see right through you, and your foul schemes will amount to nothing!”

Ferdinand put on a radiant smile, completing his transformation into the undefeatable Lord of Evil, and grabbed me by the shoulders. “I think we should remain this close for the duration of the Archduke Conference, at least. Your response?”

Eep! “Refusing to comply will only cause you trouble.” That’s what he’s going to tell me, isn’t it? I can already hear him tearing me to shreds!

To begin with, this conference couldn’t even start without Ferdinand. My only choice was to play into his evil, evil hands.

“Lord Ferdinand, Lady Rozemyne—please line up in front of the doors,” our guide said. “Two of your knights should stand at the front, then yourselves, and then your other two knights. Your scholar and attendant should stand at the back.”

Upon confirming that we had all taken our places—in a far more organized manner than Sigiswald, Nahelache, and their retainers—our guide briskly took his leave. He probably needed to prepare for the upcoming Starbind Ceremony. I was wondering how tough it must be to arrange everything in the background when the two brothers in our group started fighting.

“Cornelius, shouldn’t you and Leonore take the front?” Eckhart asked.

“Given our age and status, the honor should go to you and Angelica.”

“This isn’t about status. If we take the lead, Rozemyne won’t be able to keep up with us, and our formation will come apart midway through the auditorium.”

Huh? Why is everyone agreeing with him?! I’ve grown! My legs are longer now! Hmph!

In the end, Leonore and Cornelius stood at the front, followed by Ferdinand and me, Eckhart and Angelica, and then Hartmut and Lieseleta. Hartmut groaned that he would have taken the lead if the attendant and scholar weren’t required to stay at the rear. He and Lieseleta were carrying boxes—a very important duty of theirs.

“The doors are about to open,” Eckhart said, having been watching the knights.

We all faced forward and straightened our backs as the doors opened, allowing us to see inside the auditorium. A long carpet served as our guide, stretching from the door to the stage, where Eglantine was waiting in High Bishop robes. She must have chosen to wear them for the upcoming Starbind Ceremony.

She sure is working hard.

Back when I first joined the temple, I’d studied relentlessly to memorize prayers, ceremonial procedures, and the relevant participants. I’d done the same again when I took over as Ehrenfest’s High Bishop. I could only imagine how much more intense it must have been for Eglantine, who was tasked with performing these ceremonies as the Zent and the Sovereign High Bishop simultaneously. The thought alone sent a shiver down my spine.

“Rozemyne, where is your mind wandering?” Ferdinand warned in a quiet voice. “Focus.”

Eglantine’s voice reverberated through the auditorium with the aid of a sound-amplifying magic tool. “Enter, those of the newly established duchy of Alexandria.”

“Let’s go,” I said just loud enough for Leonore and Cornelius to hear me.

An ocean of eyes fell on us the moment we entered the auditorium, so scathing that I could almost feel them piercing through me. Everyone had cheered for Trauerqual and Sigiswald, but my arrival was met with hushed whispers and trepidatious remarks. I could feel it in my bones that I wasn’t welcome as an aub.

This is nothing like the transference ceremony.

I was still facing forward when the doors shut behind us; Hartmut and Lieseleta, the rear of our formation, must have made it into the auditorium. It felt like there was no going back—like there was no longer a way for me to escape.

Well, I already knew how harshly other nobles would view an underage aub.

Even then, the sense of rejection was far more intense than I’d expected. There were so many critical eyes on me, and the thought of having to endure them for the entire Archduke Conference made me more and more anxious. Ferdinand must have noticed—or maybe he just felt me slow down—because he nudged me ever so slightly.

“Alexandria is your dream, is it not?” he whispered quietly enough that only I could hear him. “Would you have it taken by another?”

I couldn’t understand him at first; my brain was too full of stressed and anxious thoughts. Only when I took a moment to repeat his words in my mind did everything fall into place.

Oh, right. It’s my dream to have a library city.

I remembered the newly constructed city of Alexandria, the library that had yet to open, the boxes waiting to be emptied, the hidden room in my library chambers, and the teleportation circle within it. They were all things I desired and could only have as the aub. No matter what anyone said, I refused to let them go.

I took the foundation, and that makes me the aub. Nothing will change that.

As my mind swelled with thoughts of everything that mattered to me, I ceased caring about the nobles watching me. Once this dumb inauguration ceremony was behind me, I would return to my library and get to work. I wanted to teach the scholars my Rozemyne Decimal System and stack the shelves with books—those I’d taken from Ehrenfest and those we’d found in Ahrensbach’s castle. I also had plans in place to receive copies of every book printed in the future.

At long last, I’ll get to read as much as I want! I remember the days when I couldn’t even find text, much less books!

Looking back, I really had come a long way. I’d spent so much of my time in the lower city having to survive without books or anything else to read, so my first stone slate from Otto had been life-changing. I couldn’t forget the excitement of writing in Japanese, and learning Yurgenschmidt’s alphabet had proven tremendously useful.

A single philosophy kept me going: if there aren’t any books, then I’ll just have to make some!

Of course, that was easier said than done; I’d started out with no paper, no ink, and none of the money or resources necessary to make my own. I was too young, too weak, and too sickly with almost nothing to my name. Lutz and I had tried making various replacements for books, but our attempts had continuously ended in failure. Only when we met Benno did we really start progressing.

Adults with economic power sure are something else.

Paper-making had progressed smoothly with the Gilberta Company’s support, but the Devouring heat had almost killed me. I really had thought I might die before completing my first book. If not for Freida’s help, I probably wouldn’t even have made it to my baptism ceremony.

Learning how to survive with the Devouring was huge.

On the topic of my baptism, that was when I’d chanced upon the temple’s book room—the first one I’d ever seen in this world. I’d met with the previous High Bishop in an attempt to access it, and while the events that followed caused me so much anguish, I didn’t regret becoming an apprentice blue shrine maiden. My choice had allowed me not only to enter the temple’s book room but also to survive my mana capacity without being some noble’s slave.

It’s a shame I never got to spend as much time there as I wanted to.

More things had gotten in the way than I expected, such as repairing my relationship with my temple attendants and revolutionizing the orphanage. Despite that, we’d still managed to make an orphanage branch of the Myne Workshop and complete our first proper book, kick-starting the printing industry. It was very satisfying.

For the record, I still think Ferdinand was cruel for not letting me read those books about magic!

My mana capacity alone had convinced the previous High Bishop to let me become an apprentice blue shrine maiden, so he’d made me take part in all sorts of religious ceremonies. For all the headaches they had caused me, I still considered the prayers and chants I’d memorized to be a crucial part of everything that followed.

Another huge event I remembered was Ferdinand going through my memories of my Urano days. The experience had done plenty to help him understand my strange behavior and provided various other benefits in the process.

But it also sealed my fate of becoming a noble and resulted in my separation from my lower-city family...

As a result of the previous High Bishop attacking me, that enormous change in my life had come about sooner than anticipated. Sylvester had arrived just in time to save my family from execution, and even now, I was grateful to him for agreeing to spare Dirk and Delia.

From there, Bezewanst and Veronica had been deposed, which earned me a warm welcome from Elvira and the rest of her family. My adoption had given me much greater access to books—a nice development, to be sure—but being taken from my loved ones prematurely had caused me so much heartache in the past and present.

And once I was a noble... Wow, did things get hectic.

I’d performed my duties as the High Bishop and the orphanage director and spread printing and paper-making throughout the duchy as the archduke’s adopted daughter, all while clinging to what little remained of my connection to my lower-city family. I’d also gathered jureve ingredients from the provinces on the side of performing religious ceremonies. In the meantime, Ferdinand returned to noble society, Damuel fell in love, Wilfried made a lot of stupid decisions, and I ended up with a cute little sister.

Though I never thought trying to rescue Charlotte would end with me in a two-year coma...

I was thrown into the Royal Academy almost immediately after waking up. Even now, I regretted troubling Solange with my quest to found my very own library committee, though I still maintained that getting all the first-years to pass every one of their lessons on the first day wasn’t “going way too far” or “traumatizing a generation.”

In hindsight, it felt like most of my Royal Academy memories involved being summoned by the royal family or playing ditter with Dunkelfelger. I suspected that really was the case.

Personally, I would have much rather spent my time with Hirschur, making magic tools to benefit my library. How did it all go so wrong?

My other key memories included seeing Ferdinand depart for Ahrensbach by royal decree, circling the Academy’s shrines and translating ancient documents at the royal family’s command, and obtaining the Book of Mestionora. A lot of the royals’ demands had irritated me to no end, but they had given me everything I needed to save Ferdinand, foil Georgine’s plot, and stop Lanzenave from conquering Yurgenschmidt.

Hopefully, I can fill the holes in my Book soon.

Ferdinand had told me to wait until I came of age, but I wanted to complete my Book of Mestionora as quickly as I could.

“Lady Rozemyne,” Eglantine said, indicating where I should stand. Her voice pulled me from my thoughts just in time for me to realize we’d reached the bottom of the stage. We climbed the stairs to join her.

A short distance away from the Zent hung tapestries bearing the crests of all the new duchies. Trauerqual and Sigiswald stood in front of theirs with their respective wives and retainers. The archducal couples alone now wore capes of their new duchies’ colors.

I see Blumenfeld chose ash gray while Korinthsdaum went with brownish red.

Ferdinand and I were engaged, not married, which meant only I would receive a new cape for the inauguration. I moved away from him and knelt before Eglantine.

“I, Zent Eglantine, acknowledge you as Aub Alexandria.”

“That cannot be!” came a shout from the audience. “How can a minor be inaugurated as an aub?! There’s no precedent for this!”

The floodgates opened, and more dissatisfied cries rang out. Eglantine wore a troubled expression, while the Sovereign knights and scholars around her all grimaced.

“I am the precedent,” I called. “Please continue, Zent Eglantine. No matter their complaints, my duchy’s foundation belongs to me. I am Aub Alexandria.”

“Indeed, it was the people’s decision to let minors obtain schtappes that enabled you to achieve so much in the first place,” Eglantine replied with a graceful chuckle. She retrieved a navy blue cape from a box one of the scholars was carrying and spread it out for all to see. Then she draped it over my shoulders and said, “Behold, Alexandria’s color!”

I put one hand on the cape to keep it in place and stood. Lieseleta quickly approached, took my registration brooch and some decorative cords from her box, and got to work securing the cape around my neck.

“Behold, Alexandria’s crest!” Eglantine called, debuting it while I waited for Lieseleta to finish. Sovereign scholars held up the crested tapestry while Hartmut explained the logic behind its design.

“To encapsulate the library city Lady Rozemyne hopes to create, the crest relies heavily on books and library magic tools. Because the duchy’s country gate is associated with Darkness, the crest also includes the God of Darkness’s cape, and—”

His words invited further complaints.

“She might have achieved a lot as the avatar of a goddess, but is that really enough to make her an aub?”

“No longer is she an avatar or anyone of note. I sense none of the divine power she exuded during the transference ceremony.”

“I see no reason to believe that someone who has yet to even graduate from the Royal Academy will make a good aub.”

Once my cape was secure, I glanced at the nobles in an uproar and then extended a hand to Ferdinand. He took it with a dark smile and escorted me to the tapestry.

“More nobles are displeased with your ascension than I expected, but I am pleased to see how little it disturbs you,” he said.

“If anything, I pity them for wandering straight into your trap. I suspect you hid the news of my inauguration so that any outraged duchies would make their complaints known, outing themselves as opponents for you to deal with later. Believe it or not, I see right through you.”

I noticed barely any complaints from Ehrenfest, Dunkelfelger, and the greater duchies, all of which had connections to the royal family and understood the circumstances behind my inauguration. Those kicking up a fuss were exclusively from middle- and bottom-ranking duchies.

“Hmm... Do you have a means of silencing them?” Ferdinand asked.

“Of course. I need only show them the truth. Hartmut, the sound-amplifying magic tool, if you would.”

I took a few steps forward, separating from Ferdinand. Hartmut eagerly borrowed the tool that I wanted from a Sovereign scholar and positioned it near my mouth so I wouldn’t need to hold it.

Eglantine looked concerned. I smiled reassuringly at her, then turned to the audience and took a deep breath.

“My inauguration as Aub Alexandria has nothing to do with my returning the Grutrissheit to Yurgenschmidt as the avatar of a goddess. I invaded Ahrensbach and stole its foundational magic. That makes me its archduchess. Any decent noble should understand that much, correct?”

Our audience must not have believed that I’d already stolen the duchy’s foundation through my own power. Now that I’d cleared up their confusion, the number of upset voices more or less halved.

“Furthermore,” I said, looking around with the same fake smile that Ferdinand always wore, “though some of you seem concerned about a mere student carrying out the duties of an aub, I shall put your minds at ease...”

I waited until all eyes were on me, then slowly raised my hand.

“Grutrissheit!”

Upon seeing the Book of Mestionora in my hand, even more nobles oblivious to the circumstances let out cries of surprise.

“My divine power might have faded, but I still possess a Grutrissheit,” I said. “As I understand it, I know more about Yurgenschmidt than any other aub.”

The complaining nobles fell silent. Contented, I instructed Hartmut to go back to his post; I no longer needed a sound-amplifying magic tool. I returned to Ferdinand and stuck out my chest with pride.

“See? Silencing them was trivial.”

“Indeed. Very good,” Ferdinand replied, awarding me the highest praise he could bestow.

Eglantine retrieved the sound-amplifying tool from Hartmut and addressed the gathered nobles: “During a recent trip to Alexandria, I confirmed that Lady Rozemyne can perform all the magic an aub must know, from casting entwickeln to destroying medals. For matters that demand more experience, she can depend upon Lord Ferdinand, whom she will marry in accordance with the old royal decree. As you all know, he excelled at supporting his previous fiancée in Old Ahrensbach.”

Having made it clear that my rule would pose no problems, she raised a hand and said, “May Yurgenschmidt’s first underage aub be blessed!”

The nobles in the auditorium raised their schtappes, the tips of which started to glow. Ferdinand smirked as he watched the lights move around in celebration of the country’s first underage aub.

“You are now an archduchess,” he said. “Never again will anything precious be taken from you.”

It was strange to think I’d once been the daughter of a soldier with nothing to my name. Now I was an aub with my own Book of Mestionora and complete authority over the Zent. I would concentrate everything and everyone I cared about in Alexandria, where I wielded the power to stop anyone who wished to steal from me. The ring on my left hand started to shine as joy—and, at last, freedom—welled up from within me.

“I shall bless you all in turn!” I cried.

I thrust my left hand up into the air while clutching my Book of Mestionora with my right. The delight felt by Yurgenschmidt’s first commoner-born underage aub became a blue light that spread throughout the auditorium.