Ascendance of a Bookworm (LN) - Volume 5.12 - Chapter 2

A Future Chosen

Yeah, I’m getting hugged right now...

I wasn’t entirely sure what had inspired this sudden change in him, but it was rare for Ferdinand to hug me unprovoked. It was strange, but I simply rode the wave and wrapped my arms around him. My head was still spinning from the sudden rush of memories, and reliving such tender moments with my family had made me miss them more than ever.

Ferdinand recoiled and pulled away without the slightest hesitation. “Rozemyne, what do you think you are doing?” he asked with a grimace.

I was aghast. He had embraced me! Actually saying that would spark a debate, though, and my odds of winning were laughable while my thoughts were still clouded. I would need to take a more diplomatic approach.

“Isn’t it unfair that you get to hug me when you’re stressed out, but I can’t do the same with you? I wish to request an extension of our embrace.”

“Excuse me...?”

“Thanks to the double whammy of us synchronizing and my memories suddenly coming back to me, my mind and emotions are a complete mess,” I said, making my demands clear.

Ferdinand grimaced again and, with some trepidation, relented. I was finally able to look around, whereupon I noticed we were back in the foundation’s hall. Ferdinand was on his knees with his arms once again wrapped around me. No wonder I didn’t feel cold.

“Heave ho...” I muttered, twisting in place so that I could embrace him more comfortably. His scent and warmth put me at ease, but his heart was pounding, and his breathing seemed unusually shallow.

“This sure is calming...” I said.

“Not for me,” Ferdinand replied with a sigh. I sensed that he was about to pull away again, so I stubbornly clung to him.

“That means you need even more hugs. I’m gonna go all out.”

“That is not what it means...” Ferdinand shot back. He sounded tired and somewhat annoyed but held me closer with one hand and used the other to play with my hair. In an unsurprising twist, he really did want more hugs; he was just refusing to be honest about it.

“Then why were you already embracing me when I woke up?”

“That was... your fault,” Ferdinand replied, truly displeased. “You refused to wake up when our synchronization abruptly ended.” He had apparently started to panic, fearing that I had climbed the towering stairway to the distant heights.

“Was I really in that much danger?”

“Do you even need to ask? You spent days on the verge of death. It amazes me that you can remain so calm.”

If we had allowed my mana level to return to the point before I supplied the foundation, I would most likely have succumbed to the pain. Using a rejuvenation potion had been out of the question, meaning it was a race to see whether my mana or my stamina would run out first. And of course, if not for Ferdinand dyeing my mana as soon as it reached its minimum threshold, my lack of mana would probably have killed me. It wouldn’t have been strange for me to have died at any moment over the past few days.

“I understood that my life was on the line,” I said. “That was why I didn’t want to sleep and give my mana time to replenish. Still, I never doubted that you’d come through for me. It was the only thing that kept me from getting too negative.” I really had thought everything would work out in the end—assuming we managed to drain my mana—but remaining so optimistic hadn’t been an option for Ferdinand, on whom my survival depended.

“The moment your mana was drained, I made you drink a synchronization potion and poured my liquid mana down your throat,” Ferdinand explained. “I used the memory-searching magic tool to channel even more mana into you, then called out to you from within your mind. You took a painfully long time to respond, and even then, none of your lost memories wanted to return. We did eventually stumble upon a memory with potential—and as soon as the light of your blessing came down, our synchronization ended.”

He had regained consciousness, unsure of what had just happened. It seemed reasonable to assume that I’d canceled our synchronization, but then why hadn’t I woken up with him? Seeing me completely unresponsive, he had despaired that the omni-elemental blessing in my memories must have reacted with the trace amount of divine mana still within my body.

It hadn’t been my intention to end our synchronization; I’d seen the blessing and then completely zoned out as my lost memories came rushing back to me. Then I’d woken up to find Ferdinand embracing me for seemingly no reason.

“You don’t need to worry anymore,” I said, patting him on the back. “Because of you, my memories have returned.”

Despite my best attempts to comfort him, Ferdinand still seemed distraught. His heart continued to race, and the fingers combing through my hair froze. He squeezed me so tight that it went from feeling nice to almost hurting. I gazed up at him, worried that something was wrong.

“Is everything okay?” I asked.

“Rozemyne, do you...?”

“Do I what?” His voice kept cracking and sounded so raspy that I could barely understand him.

Ferdinand paused, his eyes betraying a deep sense of dread, and then loosened his hold on me enough to pull away a little. “Do you wish to be a commoner again?”

“Excuse me...?” I cocked my head at him, completely unsure what he was getting at.

“We could use this opportunity to claim that you passed away while expending the last of your divine mana and return you to being a commoner.”

My heart thumped. Now that memories of my commoner days were fresh on my mind, the idea of going back to my lower-city family sounded more appealing than I could put into words. I wanted to agree at once, but I needed to be realistic; it was impossible for me to return to my old way of life when everyone knew me as a divine avatar. Ferdinand understood noble politics far better than I did, so his proposal seemed nonsensical. Unless...

“Um, Ferdinand... Is this your way of telling me I’m going to die soon? Like, I don’t have long before my divine mana kills me, so I might as well spend the rest of my time with my family?”

“No. Synchronizing with you made it perfectly clear that you are at your happiest when you are with your family. Having to live apart from them would only cause you heartache.”

Is he being serious right now?

My pulse quickened, and my breathing felt shallow. “How would you even go about making me a commoner again? Everyone in the lower city thinks Myne is dead, and nobles of every duchy now recognize me as the Divine Avatar of Mestionora. Aren’t you forgetting Alexandria’s foundation and my library city and...?”

“We would wait until the Archduke Conference, when the Zent would make you Aub Alexandria and declare your engagement to me. From there, we would make internal plans for me to take over as the archduke and then announce your death as the result of some lingering health concerns. You would return to being a commoner, and I would oversee the foundation and the construction of your library city.”

Ferdinand assured me that I could go back to being a commoner as long as we coordinated with the Gutenbergs’ move. The commoners of Alexandria didn’t know that Myne had died at seven years old. It wouldn’t be too hard for the Gutenbergs who knew my face to keep quiet about it, and some extra assistance from the Plantin Company and everyone else would surely help with our cover-up.

He continued, “Though it was out of the question in Ehrenfest, if I took over as Aub Alexandria, I could protect you and your family. It occurred to me only during the synchronization, and many details will need to be ironed out, but it is worth considering.”

Ferdinand sounded hesitant; his idea must have been even harder to implement than he was letting on. Still, he would never have proposed something that was outright impossible.

One by one, the faces of my family arose in my mind. Dad, after realizing we could meet only through work, had traveled all the way to Hasse just to see my face and exchange a few words with me. Mom had gone above and beyond to become a Renaissance, and Tuuli had spent years making accessories for me as my very own hairpin craftswoman. Then there was Kamil, whom I’d only managed to glimpse during the baptism ceremony.

Is living with them in the lower city even an option?

One part of me kept repeating that it was okay to follow that path, but the other stubbornly disagreed. I could never be so heartless as to make Ferdinand endure the burdens to come. It felt like my noble and commoner sides were in a battle to the death.

Am I going to be another in a long line of people who have dumped their troubles on Ferdinand to live as they desire?

For my life to return to normal, Ferdinand would need to face a grueling battle as the aub to protect my family and me. Forced to shoulder a crushing burden while showing no weakness to anyone, he would end up facing unthinkable hardships.

My heart aches...

I clutched my chest. Something was eating away at me, but I didn’t know what.

“You’re right,” I said. “Even now, I want to spend time with my family. But I care just as much about your happiness.”

It was my decision to steal Ahrensbach’s foundation. How awful would it be for me to abandon my role as Alexandria’s new aub to indulge in a carefree life with my family? Leaving everything to Ferdinand at this juncture seemed even crueler than Sylvester dumping his workload on him or Detlinde abandoning her duties to do as she pleased.

“You don’t need to feel indebted to me,” I said, looking him dead in the eye. “You have repaid me a hundred times over. I refuse to abandon you just so I can be a commoner again.”

Ferdinand adopted a neutral expression and shook his head. “If your memories have returned, the same might be true of your feystone phobia. Someone who cannot use feystones will not be able to survive as a noble, let alone an aub. Even if you stayed, as our mana is almost identical, I would need to perform any necessary brews in your stead. You would serve as a figurehead aub and nothing more, so your presence—or lack thereof—would not impact my burden.”

Ferdinand was only somewhat correct. The sole reason Ahrensbach was being remade into Alexandria and not wiped out for its treason was the advertisement that a divine avatar would take over as aub and cleanse it of sin. How would the nobles of other duchies react if anyone else ended up in power? Not even Ferdinand could predict that.

“No matter how useless I might be, my status as a divine avatar is crucial, is it not? Just how much torment would you need to bear to make me a commoner again? Do you think I’m too stupid to realize what it would mean for you or just irresponsible enough not to care?”

“I consider you neither stupid nor irresponsible,” Ferdinand replied at length. “I simply believe you should return to your family. Lutz means more to you than anyone else, correct? Our synchronization made that clear to me. This is your only chance to be with him.”

Lutz and my family were important to me, but I wasn’t going to give up on Ferdinand to be with them. Were he some irredeemable tyrant driven by lust and ambition to take extra wives and a harem of smoking concubines, then sure. He was the complete opposite, though.

“I could never just leave you!” I exclaimed. “Do you have any idea how much I’d worry?! You’re awful at asking for help! You try to do everything on your own and rely on potions to get by! You’d drop dead in no time!”

“Rozemyne—unless you take this opportunity to return, the seed of your romance with Lutz will never blossom.” Ferdinand grimaced. “You will need to marry me instead.”

My momentum died almost immediately. How had our conversation gone from returning me to my family to a marriage with Lutz, of all people?

Um... Are we not on the same page?

“Ferdinand... At what point did this become a discussion about marriage? I wouldn’t marry Lutz even if I did go back to being a commoner. Nobles might consider me a catch because of my mana and status, but the people of the lower city wouldn’t give me a second glance. In their eyes, I’m sickly and unable to give them children, since they don’t have mana.”

As much as I wanted to return to my loved ones, the thought of marrying Lutz had never even crossed my mind. He deserved someone so much better, especially when he’d gone to such great trouble to keep me in touch with my family.

Now that I thought about it, I wouldn’t be a great wife even by noble standards; my socializing and embroidering skills were painfully lacking. Only a weirdo would want to get close to me outside the context of an arranged marriage.

“And what’s this about us needing to marry each other?” I asked. “Isn’t it my choice?” Aubs chose their own partners, and the Zent then approved the union. Ferdinand wasn’t being forced into anything.

“Yes, it certainly is...” He cast his eyes down, slowly exhaled, and then held up three fingers. “You have three options. One is to return to being a commoner and marry whomever you please. Another is to continue with our plan and marry me. Or you could order Lady Eglantine to cancel the royal decree tied to our engagement and marry another man fit to wed Aub Alexandria. Take your pick.”

Huh...?

My eyes widened. “Excuse my bluntness, but what are you talking about? You make it sound like we’re already engaged. When in the world did that happen?”

“The moment you stole Ahrensbach’s foundation.”

“Bwuh?”

As I stared in shock, my mouth agape, Ferdinand explained. “By way of royal decree, Trauerqual ordered me to marry the inexperienced Aub Ahrensbach and support her in her administration. I must then adopt Lady Letizia during my Starbinding and educate her to take over as the aub. The decree came about because Ahrensbach needed someone to support its next generation or else it would collapse. Detlinde was due to become the aub at the time, but that mantle has since passed to you, and the decree remains in place.”

He spoke like it was obvious. How was I supposed to know the royal decree would remain in place even once Detlinde was out of the picture or that taking Ahrensbach’s foundation would mean accepting a fiancé as well?

“But nobody said a word about that before now...”

“No one had reason to mention it during the heat of the fighting. And when the situation calmed down, the divine power had already left you in a state where it was important not to make you emotional.”

I clapped my hands together in realization. “Aah... That’s why my retainers changed their tune.” Despite their initial complaints about me getting too close to Ferdinand, they’d suddenly stopped commenting on it. Only now had the mystery been solved.

Ferdinand sighed. “Your retainers became so compliant because you mentioned in Ehrenfest that I would make an ideal partner in a political marriage. The fault lies with your irresponsible language.”

“Whaaat?!” That was news to me. “Well, I’m glad we worked this out before it caused a disaster. You’re a responsible man, Ferdinand, but there’s no need to accept this burden just for my sake. We can go ahead and nullify the—”

“Make no mistake, Rozemyne—I actively sought this outcome.”

I peered at him, unsure what he meant. He must have read my expression because he immediately elaborated.

“For as long as we have known each other, I have observed the bonds between you and your family—the ways you strove to remain close to them as a noble and their determination not to lose you. Then you declared that I meant just as much to you and continued to look out for me even after I moved to Ahrensbach. Everything I understand about family came from you. The synchronization potion made it clear, no? Just how much I crave the kind of bond you have with your family.”

I nodded. His memories had revealed envy and admiration for my family... then bitterness and regret over tearing us apart.

“I might not have felt this way if I had remained in Ehrenfest,” Ferdinand said. “It would have been enough to watch you and your family from the shadows. But when I moved, the voices around you threatened to sever our connection. I did not wish to lose what we had. Thus... exploiting this royal decree was the most practical and efficient way to obtain you.”

He brushed my cheek with his finger, and an inexplicable shiver ran down my spine.

“The king who gave the royal decree is a king no longer, meaning he cannot interfere with my plans,” Ferdinand continued. “I also threatened the new Zent not to intervene unless you order it.”

“You threatened the Zent...? Ferdinand—”

Before I could say anything else, his finger moved to my lips. He pressed against them only gently, but it was enough to silence me. I was hesitant even to breathe.

“I went to great lengths to make sure no one would oppose our engagement after your ascension to mortal divinity. I could not bear the thought of another man taking my place as your true family.”

I swallowed hard. There was a fire in Ferdinand’s light-golden eyes that almost scared me. I wasn’t sure I could give him whatever he was lusting for, and it made me so anxious that I wanted to run away.

But the hand resting on my back kept me in place.

“You are the only one who can stop me now, Rozemyne. The new Zent’s life is in your hands. Will you return to your loved ones and give me glimpses of your happiness? Will you accept our engagement and welcome me into your family? Or will you order Eglantine to overturn the royal decree? The choice is yours.”

Ferdinand stared straight at me as he awaited my answer. His intensity took me by surprise. I didn’t know what he wanted, but I doubted that marrying me was the answer. Romantic love wasn’t something I understood, and it was beyond me to return feelings that I couldn’t even comprehend. My inability to give him what he desired would only frustrate me until the guilt became too much to bear.

“Your choice, Rozemyne?” he prompted.

I twisted on instinct, hoping to escape, but I couldn’t break his hold on me. I gazed up at him as he continued to await my answer.

We sat in silence for a while until, at last, Ferdinand cast his eyes down and sighed. He stopped touching my face and removed the hand resting on my back. The next time I met his gaze, I saw that he was defeated. Even his body language spoke to his disappointment. Now more than ever, I could tell that he was used to having his wishes ignored.

This isn’t right...

On instinct, I shook my head. I didn’t understand the kind of love being discussed, but I couldn’t allow Ferdinand to leave. He rarely ever said what he wanted this openly. I didn’t want to discourage him from ever doing it again, so I reached out and gave him a hug.

“Rozemyne, what are...?”

“I realize this shouldn’t be the case by now, but guess what? I still don’t understand romantic love!”

“A somewhat strange declaration to make while clinging to someone, but yes, I am well aware,” Ferdinand replied, exasperation clear in his voice. “My only desire is to become your family in the truest sense; I do not expect any of the more sensitive aspects of romance that commonly occur between men and women. As I was already like family to you, if we do get married, things need only stay as they are.”

That put my mind at ease. If he really was okay with me treating him like family and not doing anything romantic, then I wouldn’t disappoint him.

“I cannot stand the thought of our connection being severed and another man becoming a member of your true family. That is all.” Ferdinand touched the rainbow ornament in my hair. “Do you not find it miserable how much people gossip and assume simply because you express your concern for someone?”

I did. It frustrated me to no end that, even when his life was on the line, everyone had urged me not to worry about him.

But if we’re engaged... I can worry about him without anyone complaining.

“Are you really okay with our relationship staying the same?” I asked.

“Yes.”

His quick, casual response made me hesitant. I didn’t want him to change his mind once we were married and suddenly start expecting more from me.

“And you said my feystone phobia will probably return. In the event that it does, I’ll do my best to help wherever I can, but it won’t stop me from being a burden as both an aub and a wife. Are you truly willing to accept that?”

“I am. You might not be able to use feystones, but your status as a divine avatar will compensate. If you return to being a commoner, I will not even have that to depend upon. Think carefully about this decision, as this is your last chance to return to your old way of living.”

“I want to go back to my family... but it wouldn’t be easy for me.”

Too much was resting on my shoulders. In my absence, I doubted Ferdinand would show Letizia even the slightest trace of consideration, and the nobles of Ahrensbach would receive harsher punishments. I also had the names of several of my retainers; how would my “death” impact them? Returning their names was an option, but Roderick and Gretia would need to go back to the families they had cut ties with. And what about Matthias and Laurenz, who had given their names to avoid execution? I couldn’t imagine Hartmut and Clarissa would even accept having their names returned, and would the whole ordeal not make Ferdinand seem especially suspicious?

Somehow, I get the feeling my name-sworn would all go with Rozemyne to her grave.

Ferdinand wasn’t one to shy away from eliminating those in his path; he would do whatever was necessary to perfectly forge my death. I sincerely doubted that someone with the gall to attack Erwaermen and the Goddess of Wisdom would refrain from taking out a few fellow nobles.

“It wouldn’t be easy?” he repeated. “Care to explain?”

In an attempt to appeal to his more rational side, I elected not to say that I refused to abandon everyone I cared about from my life as a noble and instead chose some more agreeable phrasing. Both explanations were honest, but this one was more likely to convince him.

“For me to become a commoner, my schtappe would need to be sealed, no? I wouldn’t be able to make my own rejuvenation potions or rely on you or my retainers for them. As for draining my mana, I would continuously need to visit the temple. It might sound grim, but I doubt I would survive very long as a commoner.”

Indeed, I wouldn’t be able to last as a simple commoner—that was why I’d joined the temple and endured so many encounters with nobles all those years ago. Not to mention, I now had enough mana to become the Zent; I would never be able to keep it under control. I would run into nobles on a regular basis during my trips to the temple—they would all soon come to realize the true importance of religion—and it would only take one of them recognizing me for all sorts of complications to arise.

“Not to mention,” I continued, “I think the life of a commoner would prove too much for me. I couldn’t even draw water back when I was living in the lower city. I can’t do chores, and so much time has passed that I wouldn’t know how to blend in.”

Since my arrival in this world, I’d spent only two years as a commoner. Even then, my health had rendered me mostly bedridden, so I’d seldom had the chance to associate with my neighbors or attend weddings, funerals, and the like. I didn’t have a good foundation to build upon.

“I could move in with my family again, but I’d only be a burden on them,” I said. “As long as you arrange for me to meet them on a regular basis, I think it might be best for me to remain a noble.”

Ferdinand wrapped an arm around me and once again held me tight. “Would you... truly choose me, Rozemyne?”

“As long as you don’t regret marrying me.”

I’d entrusted my body to Ferdinand and was taking comfort in his warmth when I suddenly realized something: now that we were alone and my divine mana was gone, there was something we needed to do.

“Ferdinand, let me give you back your name stone. I don’t need it now that my divine mana is gone, right?”

He had given me his name for practical reasons—because my overwhelming divine power had made it tough for him to even be near me. Resolved to return it, I took out his name stone... but Ferdinand made no move to accept it. He simply looked to one side.

“You do not need it...?” he repeated, noticeably upset.

I started to panic. In hindsight, I really had chosen my words poorly. “I just mean, um... it isn’t right for me to keep it.”

“I do not follow.”

“Doesn’t it feel wrong for us to have, like, a master-servant relationship? Family needs to be equal.” And if we were going to get married, there was even less of a reason for me to keep his name stone.

Ferdinand said nothing in response. He kept looking between me and the small cocoon in my hand, which he didn’t even attempt to take.

“Is there a problem?” I eventually asked.

“We can be equals without you returning my name... no?”

I cocked my head. His meaning was lost on me at first, but then I remembered something Leonore had told me. Back when we were discussing whether to take the children of the former Veronica faction’s names, she had said that she was especially taken with the idea of exchanging names with the person she loved and swearing that their feelings for one another would endure for eternity.

“Are you proposing we give our names to each other?” I asked. “That sounds like a moving scene from a story—and it would make us equals—but it isn’t exactly realistic. Leonore said so too.”

“It is unrealistic, hm?”

“Correct. I mean, what about our descendants?”

“To whom do you refer?” Ferdinand asked, furrowing his brow.

“I... I mean... Let’s say we do get married. I-It’s reasonable to assume we might, um... have children, right?”

Uh-oh. This was bad. Thinking about getting married and procreating was awkward enough on its own. Discussing it with Ferdinand was ten times worse. Something I’d thought would never have anything to do with me now seemed very close at hand.

Ngh... Stay calm, Rozemyne. Stay calm!

“As the aub, I’m going to need a successor, meaning we’d need to adopt at the very least. We also need someone who can keep the city alive in our absence. Someone like Letizia, right? If we’re engaged through that royal decree, then we’re going to have to adopt her.”

“First, we will need to abolish that tradition of Ahrensbach’s so she can remain an archduke candidate, but yes—once you have come of age and our Starbinding has been held, we will need to adopt her. Letizia arguably shared the same fate as the noble children orphaned in the war with Lanzenave, so I intended for her to stay in the temple until the adoption.”

A relieved sigh escaped me. I’d thought it best for Ferdinand, Letizia’s main victim, to decide how we should treat her going forward. It was good to hear that he’d chosen to mask her crimes; it wouldn’t have been pleasant punishing a child we knew had been exploited.

“So,” Ferdinand continued, “what do our descendants have to do with our name-swearing?”

“I... I mean... Again, we’re going to be married. If we give our names to each other and one of us ascends to the distant heights, the other will immediately follow. Think about the hardships that would create for any kids we leave behind. They would struggle enough with only one parent.”

During my time as Urano, my father had died in a car accident. If my mother had somehow been name-sworn to him and died at the same time, I wouldn’t have known what to do. Even in this world, it wasn’t uncommon for people to lose their parents while they were still young. Benno, Sylvester, and Giebe Illgner all came to mind.

“A lot of Sylvester’s troubles came from him having to take over as the archduke at such a young age, right? He was already an adult by then, but imagine if the burden had dropped into his lap when he was still only a child. Not to mention, he had Bonifatius to oversee the handover. We won’t have a single adult archduke candidate to provide support in the event of our untimely deaths—not including Letizia, the two of us comprise Alexandria’s entire archducal family. Should we not do our best to avoid such an unfortunate outcome?”

Ferdinand stared at me in surprise, like he hadn’t considered that outcome. “I see. An astute observation. I must admit, I am somewhat shocked to hear such a forward-thinking argument from you. Your mind is normally far too preoccupied with books.”

Following that rather mean remark, Ferdinand gestured for me to stand. Even now, he hadn’t taken back his name stone. I stayed put at first but reluctantly complied when he repeated the instruction out loud.

“Ferdinand. Your name stone,” I said, fixing him with a glare as I proffered it again.

He responded with a dismissive wave, then looked down at all the tools scattered about and muttered that he would need to come back tomorrow to clean.

“Ferdinand,” I repeated.

“Come here. How is your health? Has your mana calmed down?” He touched my forehead and nape as he launched into one of his usual inspections. I could guess from the way he was planning which potion to give me before bed that he had absolutely no intention of taking back his name stone.

“Ferdinand!” I cried.

“I will take it back two years from now. Please be patient until then. There is no need for you to set aside Schutzaria’s shield.” He then picked me up with one arm and carried me to the exit as though it were the most natural thing in the world.

“Schutzaria’s shield...? Can you make that with a name stone?”

I had so many questions, but Ferdinand refused to answer them. He uttered not another word as he took me out of the foundation’s hall.

“Lady Rozemyne, Lord Ferdinand,” Gretia and Justus said, rushing over as soon as they saw us. “We were worried when you did not return.”

“It took Rozemyne quite some time to regain consciousness,” Ferdinand replied. “But you need not worry any longer.”

My other retainers arrived in short order, having most likely been informed of our return. Hartmut and Clarissa fought to reach me first and then waxed ecstatic about how wondrous they had found my recreation of the ancient spell. An enormous magic circle had apparently spread across the night sky and put on such a grand display that no one would question it had come from a divine avatar.

“Have the knights returned from the border gates?” Ferdinand asked.

“Strahl and his group should return soon,” Justus answered.

“I see. Angelica, I entrust Rozemyne to you.” He handed me over and then turned to my attendants. “Gretia, Lieseleta—have Rozemyne drink the blenrus-infused rejuvenation potions in this box and prioritize her rest above all else. Cleanse her with a waschen instead of giving her a bath, then adjust your plans for tomorrow depending on her health.”

Ferdinand seemed exhausted as he instructed my other retainers. On instinct, I reached out to him and said, “You could use Schlaftraum’s—”

“Rozemyne. Please. For once, can you not pray to the gods?”

In retrospect, that was probably wise. “I shall save it for tomorrow, then.”

Angelica picked me up and carried me to my bed. A canopied frame had already been prepared so that I could go straight to sleep.

Lieseleta wore a bright smile as she approached and started changing my clothes. “Indeed, the awe-inspiring divine power that overtook your mana has faded. I can approach without you needing to be covered with silver cloth.”

“You looked quite divine as you shone with light, Lady Rozemyne, but it puts me more at ease to see you back to normal,” Gretia agreed. Only then did it fully sink in that my divine power was gone for good.