The next day,
In stark contrast to his fired-up demeanor, Johann looked completely dazed.
Today I was dressed in the High Priest's ceremonial robes. It seemed he was still reeling from the revelation that the patron he'd believed to be the daughter of a wealthy merchant connected to the
"Good morning, Lady Rozemine."
As Lutz performed the full bow of respect reserved for nobility, Johann—who'd been staring at me blankly—hurriedly dropped to one knee as well.
"Good morning. …Lady Rozemine?"
He tilted his head at me, clearly puzzled by the different name. I delivered the lines we'd agreed upon in advance.
"I'm sorry for summoning you, Johann. I've gone and been appointed as the High Priest, you see, so I can no longer go out as freely as I used to. From now on, I'll need you to come here instead…"
"N-No! I'll come! I'll absolutely come! Asking you to come to the workshop would be out of the question!"
The straightforward and earnest Johann apparently took my previous outings to have been done in secret as a blue Shrine Maiden apprentice. With the conversation proceeding just as
"That's a great help. Lutz, who is this with you?"
"He's a blacksmith from a different workshop than Johann, named
Upon hearing more details, it turned out that in the newly established adult craft assessment held by the Blacksmith Guild, Johann's metal movable type had received the highest evaluation, with Zack coming in second.
And Johann had received the title of "
"Before the assessments even began, Johann—who had no patron and no recognition—suddenly receiving such an evaluation is unjust. Lady Rozemine, you don't know any other craftsmen. I believe I'm more deserving of the title of Gutenberg. I'd like you to compare us."
"…Since Zack is so determined to become a Gutenberg, I've brought him here so you can hear him out," Lutz added with a slight raise of his eyebrows.
It seemed Zack was a blacksmith who was confident in his skills and harbored a strong sense of rivalry toward Johann. As far as I was concerned, having such a motivated craftsman want to join the Gutenberg ranks was more than welcome. You can never have too many skilled workers.
"First, why don't you show me what you can do? Let's head to the workshop."
"Yes!"
Zack replied with enthusiasm and shot Johann a look of triumph.
I headed to the workshop with Lutz,
In a corner of the sparsely occupied workshop where several people were working, I had paper and ink prepared on a workbench and began my explanation.
"What I'd like made next is a roller for producing wax-coated paper."
"What's wax-coated paper?"
Lutz showed Zack—and Johann, who was seeing it for the first time—the thinly waxed paper, Johann's iron stylus, and the printing press, explaining the process and what was needed so both of them could understand.
"…So, to do this wax stenciling, you need to coat thin paper—thin enough to see through—with a light, even layer of wax. That's why we need a roller."
"A roller… like the one we made before?"
"No, not like that."
When I shook my head at Johann, Lutz took over, referencing his cheat sheet, and began explaining the mechanism from memory.
"The machine Lady Rozemine wants for waxing has two metal rollers, with a catch tray underneath. You put wax in the tray, and below that there's a place to light a fire to melt the wax. …Something like this."
While I showed the two a rough sketch I'd drawn, Lutz continued explaining the process.
With a fire burning underneath, you turn the two rollers several times so the heat transfers to both and melted wax adheres to them. Then you sandwich paper between the rollers, turn them slightly to feed the paper's leading edge out the other side, and hook both ends of the paper—which is now stuck to the rollers—onto thin sticks like toothpicks.
Once both ends are hooked onto the sticks, one person turns the handle in one go while the other pulls on the sticks to remove the paper from the rollers. This produces a coat of wax thin enough that it dries mid-air as it floats gently.
"I'm sorry I can't make a detailed blueprint. I don't remember it that clearly myself."
Johann listened to Lutz's explanation with a furrowed brow while looking at the sketch I'd drawn on Plant Paper. Zack, on the other hand, listened with keen interest. His eyes lighting up, Zack asked questions while studying the drawing.
"If I can achieve what Lady Rozemine described, is it all right if the machine's shape is different?"
"Of course. What's important is applying a thin, even coat of wax."
The two were to have rough blueprints ready and brought to me within three days. I would then decide which one to adopt.
"I'm definitely going to be the one to become Gutenberg," Zack declared, his gray eyes blazing with passion enough to look almost silver.
Johan, on the receiving end of that burning, competitive gaze, simply gave a light shrug.
"…I don't want my patron to disappear, so I want to do work that makes Lady Rozemine happy. But I don't need the title. I'll yield it to Zack. Go for it."
Titles didn't matter to him. It was precisely Johann—who wanted to do work he could be satisfied with—who truly deserved the Gutenberg title. I hoped he would continue expanding the printing industry with that humble, honest approach to his craft.
From behind me, Lutz muttered, "He's not humble at all."
Over the three days before Johann and Zack's blueprints were ready, I decided to work on selecting songs for the fechspiel concert with the Chief Priest and preparing the program. I barged into the Chief Priest's room and asked for his cooperation.
"A program? What's that?"
"It's a printed document listing the songs to be performed at the concert. Since the purpose of the concert is to raise Donations for the printing industry, I intend to sell printed materials at the venue as well. One sheet of paper—an illustration on the front, with the song titles and a rough description of the lyrics on the back."
This time's program was like a movie pamphlet. I wanted people to buy it and keep it as a memento.
The Chief Priest pressed his temples hard. His expression seemed to say emotions were unnecessary, but his rationality was insisting that if it was meant to promote the printing industry, having one would be better.
"…Show the finished program to me first before anything else."
"Understood."
I'd make the program cover a full-body cutout illustration after all. If the wax-coated paper didn't work out, I'd be in trouble.
"What about the songs? Should we prioritize songs the audience is familiar with, with maybe one or two new pieces?"
"No. Rather than pieces I'm used to playing, I'd prefer new ones since this is a special occasion."
We settled on three classical-based pieces with a break in between, followed by two anime songs—five pieces in total.
"You are… Absolutely never use Richarda again, I swear."
"I didn't ask Richarda for help, you know. She just helped me out of devotion to her master."
I'd already given up the moment I realized the bait I could offer wasn't appealing enough. I never expected Richarda to push things forward, and I certainly never expected the Chief Priest to agree.
"If you, as her master, won't stop Richarda, who will?"
"I don't think I could possibly stop Richarda when even you, Chief Priest, couldn't refuse her. If I could keep Richarda in check, I would have read that book long before coming to the
Puffing out my cheeks in protest, the Chief Priest averted his gaze with an air of deliberate nonchalance.
"…Even if Richarda did steamroll me, I've accepted the task, so put your mind at rest on that point."
"That much I do trust you on."
When I returned to my room,
Rosina's lovestruck maiden vibe was cute, but honestly, I'd heard enough. A different song, please.
"I'm going to the orphanage to discuss the program."
In case the wax-coated paper didn't work out, and to keep the Chief Priest's attention focused on the program, I wanted
When I made this request, Wilma's warm brown eyes lit up.
"Leave it to me! It's as if I have the blessing of Kuntozeer, Goddess of Arts—I want to draw so badly that my hand won't stop. You said you wanted an illustration of the Chief Priest, Lady Rozemine. What kind of image do you need?"
She invited me to her room in the orphanage, where she had many drawings. I left the male Damuel and Fran in the dining hall and took Monica and Bridgette along to her room.
"Oh! Wilma, how wonderful!"
"This is truly remarkable."
The moment they entered the room, Monica and Bridgette both gasped.
I looked around the room and stood there with my mouth hanging open. Wilma's room was piled high with an astonishing number of Chief Priest illustrations. Even accounting for the supposed blessing of Kuntozer, Goddess of Arts, the sheer volume was staggering.
"There are so many!"
"I know, but composition after composition keeps coming to mind, and I simply can't stop."
I was stunned by Wilma's illustration fever induced by her fascination with the Chief Priest. Most of the paper I'd given her for sketching had been turned into Chief Priest drawings.
And what's more, while I couldn't say they'd been embellished beyond recognition, they had become strikingly beautiful. It could only be described as the effect of Wilma's maiden filter. The Chief Priest wasn't that sparkly, and he didn't smile like that.
Even though Wilma and I were supposedly looking at the same person, he appeared completely different to each of us.
…Well, he did soften his expression a little when playing instruments, but it wasn't a smile anywhere near this gentle.
If we were going to sell them at the concert, we'd have Chief Priest illustrations alone, but the one of Rosina playing fechspiel with him was gorgeous—beautiful man and woman with incredible atmosphere. There was even one of me singing alongside the Chief Priest playing fechspiel. …I looked about thirty percent sparklier than usual too, as if his brilliance had rubbed off on me.
"So a full-body cutout of the Chief Priest playing fechspiel. I can have it ready right away. …Please come pick it up tomorrow afternoon."
This was the most animated I'd ever seen Wilma. The Chief Priest's ability to have this much influence on a man-skeptic like Wilma was frightening.
At the fechspiel concert, there would surely be an outbreak of women fainting or losing their composure. Beyond the infirmary, they might need to mobilize the Knight Order as security to carry out unconscious women and stop anyone going berserk.
Wilma's promise of "right away" proved accurate—she truly delivered the draft the very next day. A full-body figure just as requested, and honestly, more detailed than a picture book illustration.
"How is it, Lady Rozemine?"
Wilma looked haggard from sleep deprivation, but her eyes were brimming with a sense of fulfillment.
"I think it's wonderfully done. I'll show it to the Chief Priest, and once I have his approval, we'll take it straight to the workshop for printing."
When I showed the cutout to the Chief Priest, he seemed satisfied with the beautifully detailed work. Nodding with a "This should do," he granted permission for the program to be printed.
I suspected that a large part of his satisfaction came from the fact that the full-body cutout was recognizable as the Chief Priest mainly through hairstyle and atmosphere—that and nothing more.
Then the day came for Johann and Zack to bring their blueprints.
They were coming directly to the workshop, so I waited there with Damuel and Fran. Behind us, printing of the program had already begun.
The illustrations were being printed as usual, but this was also the first time we were typesetting with metal movable type. The Gray Priest had furrows between his brows as he picked up type with his stick and painstakingly set it with unpracticed hands.
"Lady Rozemine, I've brought Lutz of the Gilberta Company and the blacksmith."
"Thank you, Gil. Well then, let's see them right away."
Johann hung his head in embarrassment and produced a wooden tablet. He'd drawn a machine similar to what I'd sketched, following the specifications as described, but apparently he wasn't satisfied with the result himself.
The weakness that showed clearly here was Johann's difficulty in translating a client's wishes into form—despite being able to perfectly build anything from an existing blueprint.
In contrast, Zack produced several wooden tablets with a triumphant expression, each bearing blueprints with different designs reflecting his own ideas and ingenuity. I could understand why he'd gained confidence with multiple patrons—the quality was impressive.
"This is really impressive."
"Indeed. I couldn't have come up with something like this."
It was no wonder Johann slumped in defeat. The blueprints Zack had brought were drawn within the realm of what was actually feasible—based on the workshop's technology and Zack's own skills. Compared to Johann's blueprints, which had simply replicated my sketches, Zack's designs looked much more buildable.
"Which of these blueprints does Zack feel most confident about?"
"I think this one has the best performance, but if we're going to build one, I'd go with this."
"What do you think, Johann?"
At my question, Johann began studying Zack's blueprints with a serious expression. After scrutinizing them for a while, he picked up the one Zack had said had the best performance.
"I think this is the better one."
"That one's impossible! The details here are too fine and difficult!"
Johann stared intently at the blueprint and slowly shook his head. Behind him, his short, orange ponytail—like a small tail gathered together—swayed with the movement. His eyes, brimming with motivation and passion, shone with a fierce light as he looked at Zack.
"No, it can be done."
"Then, both of you—go ahead and build one each. The workshop has other projects planned, so even two would be fine as long as they're usable. However, I won't spend money on anything that doesn't work."
The contest could be decided by the actual products. Arguing here without physical results was meaningless.
Zack glared at Johann with burning competitive spirit, and Johann stared intently at the blueprint.
"Once the parts are ready, you can bring them to the workshop for assembly, but be sure to go through Lutz first before bringing anything inside. Gil, is there space in the workshop to set up the machines?"
Gil pointed to a wide-open area and puffed out his chest.
"I cleared it out, so we're good."
"Good, I'll leave it to you then."
Thinking the matter had been settled for now, I was about to move on when Lutz, with a flash of mischievous smile lasting just an instant, produced a letter.
"Lady Rozemine, it seems the printing business discussion has concluded. Would it be all right to discuss this matter as well?"
"Of course."
"We at our establishment are grateful for your continued patronage of our hair ornaments. The craftswoman who makes hairpins has created a new one and is most eager to present it to you. When would be convenient?"
It was Turi.
I accepted the letter and nodded enthusiastically.
"I'll be waiting in the director's office tomorrow afternoon."
"Very well."
As if to tease me for the excitement I couldn't conceal, Lutz narrowed his eyes slightly and raised the corner of his lips. Struggling to maintain my composure, I left the workshop with Fran and Damuel.
From behind us in the workshop, I heard Lutz's voice as he could no longer hold back his laughter.
When I returned to my room, I read a letter with news from my family.
Father had been promoted to Chief Guard, making his gate duty busy, and the letter also mentioned that Benno and the Guild Master were frequently going in and out of town. "Don't overwork them too much," it said.
Turi had written, "I'll come see you with the new hairpin."
I immediately wrote a reply, centering on how the Chief Priest had been mischievous in refusing to let me read, how I'd successfully completed the Starbinding Ceremony in the Noble District, and how I was working hard on printing development at the Temple.
I folded the finished letter and slipped it between the picture books I'd set aside for Turi. Then I bundled up what I'd asked Rosina to prepare.
"Lady Rozemine, you're fidgeting far too much."
Fran pointed this out with an exasperated smile. I knew I needed to act more like a lady, but I simply couldn't contain my excitement at seeing her after so long.
"Lady Rozemine, I've brought the craftswoman who makes hair ornaments at our establishment."
Turi entered alongside the formally composed Lutz.
Every instinct urged me to rush forward, call out "Turi," and embrace her. It had been so long that I was on the verge of tears. But we were forbidden from calling each other by family names.
Turi looked at me with tears threatening to spill as well. Her lips moved slightly, but the call that didn't quite reach a voice was swallowed back down.
"This is for you, Lady Rozemine. A new hairpin made with a new weaving technique."
Saying this, Turi drew a cloth-wrapped hairpin from the tote bag I'd once used. It was a large flower with a stamen and petals that had movement, created by adapting the method of using glue that I'd taught her—the technique of using animal glue as an adhesive.
"It's so beautiful… I always treasure the hairpins you make. As thanks for the new hairpin, please accept this from me. I hope it serves you well."
It was a bundle consisting of the second picture book about the Water Goddess's attendants and sketches of noble attire that I'd seen at the
"You're too kind."
She must have been taught the manners and bearing for dealing with nobility at the Gilberta Company. Even from her different manner of speaking compared to the Turi I knew, I could see her efforts.
"…We have babies here at this orphanage as well. They've started crawling, and the caretakers have their hands full—I'd heard them complaining about it. Could you tell me about the babies you know about?"
Turi let her gaze drift for a moment, as if thinking, then smiled softly.
"Then let me tell you about my brother Kamil, if that's all right. …Lately, Kamil stares at the black-and-white picture books for long stretches. I'm not sure what he finds so entertaining about them, but he often sits quietly looking at them alone. Mother always spreads them out on the bed and props them against the wall for him."
And apparently, Kamil had recently started being able to grasp the white rabbit rattle I'd made for him. He could hold it on his own now and was beginning to follow the sound with his eyes.
"…Lady Rozemine, when I make another new hairpin, may I bring it to you?"
"Of course, absolutely. I'll be waiting."
We exchanged gifts, exchanged words, exchanged smiles.
Even as the sadness of not being able to touch her grew, Turi's smile filled my heart completely.
The battle between Zack, who wants the title of Gutenberg, and Johann, who wants to give it back, has only just begun.
And Turi, after so long. She's working hard under Corina's guidance.
Next time, Mother and Brother