"
The day after meeting Turi, my heart felt full, but the loneliness ultimately won out, and I ended up clinging to Lutz in the hidden chamber.
Gil and
"How many copies?"
"Let's see, we're preparing 30 seats, so... targeting one viewing copy, one keepsake copy, and one evangelization copy per person, that would be 90?"
"Huh?! That's way too many!"
Lutz blurted out in his characteristic loud voice and looked down at me. He said it was too many, but I thought printing a few more would be fine. Just a hunch, though.
"If the raw paper doesn't get finished in time, this will be the only printed material for the concert, and I'm certain it will sell."
"Do you have proof of that? If not, it'll just be a waste."
Lutz glared at me with his merchant eyes—so much like
"The proof is how wild Wilma and the others were about it. People who couldn't attend the concert will want it later, and even if a few copies remain, since this will be the very first thing produced through letterpress printing, the price and value will absolutely skyrocket... in a few decades to about a century from now. So it's fine."
"A few decades from now?! That's not proof at all!"
In my mind, that was perfectly valid proof, but it seemed Lutz simply couldn't accept it. Even so, I pushed through with 90 copies.
"90 copies, then. I'd like to go bold and do an even 100. Please do one of those two."
"Why does the number keep going up?!"
I was scolded for that, but personally I thought even 100 was too few. Seeing that I clearly wasn't going to budge, Gil patted Lutz on the shoulder.
"Lutz, it's no use trying to persuade
"I know. I just had to try."
Today was one of Damuel's days off, which meant we couldn't enter either the orphanage's hidden chamber or the workshop. So instead, I brought
More precisely, since I had delegated nearly all of my duties as High Priest to the Chief Priest, I was only doing a small portion of what was originally my own job.
"...It seems our expenses have dropped quite a bit from spring to summer. Revenue has decreased slightly as well."
"That's because the High Priest changed."
The Chief Priest stated the reason matter-of-factly, but could changing just the High Priest really make that much of a difference?
"...What exactly was that High Priest spending money on?"
"He was the sort of person who couldn't distinguish between the
The Chief Priest gave a slight shrug. He had only been managing the Temple's finances for about two years now. Apparently, when he inherited things from the previous High Priest heading to the central province, the state of affairs was so terrible it made him dizzy.
The difference between a blue priest raised within the Temple who muddled through everything vaguely, and a Chief Priest educated at the Noble Academy who could serve as the Lord's right hand—there was a world of difference between them.
"...That must have been terrible."
"While you were High Priest, I intend to make the budget-related matters far more clear and rigorous."
Just as the Chief Priest said this, an ordfalcons burst in through the window. It flapped its wings noisily, circled the room once, then landed on the Chief Priest's desk.
"
After the message played three times in Brother Lamprecht's voice, the ordfalcons reverted from its bird form back into a magic stone.
This ordfalcons was how nobles communicated with each other. Once you started attending the Noble Academy, you'd be able to use it within a year—it was supposedly a simple tool to learn.
However, I had left my parents' household before entering the Noble Academy, so all communication was conducted through my guardian, the Chief Priest.
"Rozemyne, when can you meet?"
Come to think of it, Wilfried had called me "unfair" before I returned to the Temple. This was probably about that. I couldn't think of anything else it could be.
For my part, talking was fine anytime, but the problem with being a noble was that I couldn't just say "come right now." Whenever I submitted a meeting request to the Chief Priest, the reply always came with a date about three days out.
"...I suppose about three days from now would be appropriate."
"Very well. Then tell him to come to that time."
The Chief Priest pulled out his schtappe and tapped the magic stone lightly while saying "ordfalcons," and the magic stone wobbled and morphed into a bird.
I spoke to the bird. Leaving a voicemail, essentially, which made me a bit nervous.
"Brother Lamprecht, this is Rozemyne. I'll be available the afternoon of three days from now."
The Chief Priest sent the ordfalcons flying, and I thought that was that—when it promptly returned.
"Could the discussion be before noon? Afterward, I'd like to have lunch together and chat with a sister I can rarely see. Mother would also like to share the meal."
The returned ordfalcons delivered the message in a rushed tone, specifying the time. Wilfried's matter was apparently just a pretext; the real objective was lunch.
"Kartstedt and
The Chief Priest raised the corner of his lips with amusement.
Mother had been eating
"I'll prepare the same menu that Father and the others enjoyed," I replied.
"...I'll be counting on you," came the response, in a voice that sounded both relieved at being seen through and embarrassed by it.
And then, the day of the meeting.
Since Mother was coming anyway, I thought I'd have her check the finished programs as well. I prepared in my room the freshly double-sided printed programs—one copy—and several of the illustrations Wilma had drawn.
For lunch, Ella and
"Oh, Rozemyne, you look well. I'm sorry for making such demands. I was worried you might have fallen ill."
Fran, who had gone to meet them at the Noble Gate, guided Mother and Brother Lamprecht in.
Brother Lamprecht entered with a bright smile full of anticipation for lunch. The Chief Priest, my guardian at the Temple, was also waiting in the room, so Mother was beaming from the very start.
"It's wonderful that you look well, Rozemyne. It's all thanks to Ferdinand for looking after you so diligently."
After exchanging the usual extended pleasantries, I invited them to sit and had Fran prepare tea. Nicola, looking tense, brought in a plate of tea sweets and gently set it on the table.
I softly slid the plate in front of the eager-looking Brother Lamprecht and ate one myself as a demonstration.
"These are called langues de chat. They're light on the palate, but since it's before lunch, please be careful not to eat too many."
Once I finished the taste test, Brother Lamprecht immediately reached for a cookie. The expression on his face was identical to Cornelius's whenever sweets were placed in front of him, and I had to stifle a laugh.
Brother Lamprecht ate one in quick bites, then subtly widened his eyes.
"So Cornelius was eating these."
"No, these are being served to guests for the first time today, so even Brother Cornelius hasn't had them yet."
"I see..."
As Brother Lamprecht basked in his sense of superiority, the Chief Priest took a sip of tea and asked the question.
"Lamprecht, what exactly is this about with Wilfried?"
Brother Lamprecht nodded slowly and explained in the roundabout manner typical of nobles. The Chief Priest listened with nods, but I couldn't understand a thing.
"I'm sorry, Brother Lamprecht. It's too difficult for me to follow."
"Um..."
Brother Lamprecht furrowed his brow, unsure how to explain. I turned to the Chief Priest.
"He says it's unfair that Rozemyne doesn't study."
What the Chief Priest told me was that from Wilfried's perspective—someone who preferred physical activity and spent all his time thinking about how to escape from his teachers—I was the one being unfair because I had no tutor and kept sneaking out of the castle.
"Lamprecht, tell Wilfried to stop saying such foolish things. Rozemyne is obviously studying. She receives my education at the Temple plus instruction at
Apparently, based on
"I'm perfectly happy studying all day—I simply can't get enough of books. Please tell Brother Wilfried to learn his letters quickly so we can study together."
Brother Lamprecht clutched his head at my answer. "Those two will never see eye to eye," he muttered.
That was probably true. Wilfried, who wanted to escape studying, and I, who would happily hole up in a room reading books for not just one day but however many days it took—we were never going to understand each other.
From my perspective, being perpetually held back from reading all the books that existed by the mountain of book-burrowing I was forced to do, Wilfried was the one who was being unfair.
"As for the studying, we've heard from the Lord as well, and Wilfried will just have to accept it. Ideally, I'd like Rozemyne to study with him once and show him the stark difference..."
"That kind of time doesn't exist."
The Chief Priest shut down Brother Lamprecht's request for my cooperation without hesitation.
"Rozemyne has many priorities. Special magic training, material gathering, her duties as High Priest, managing the orphanage and the workshop. On top of that, she needs to manage her health. Wilfried's situation is something for Wilfried himself and those around him to think about. It's not Rozemyne's job. It's your job."
Brother Lamprecht sputtered in response to the Chief Priest's words as my guardian who managed my daily life.
"But isn't that far too much? For a child who just completed her
"That's exactly what I'm saying. So please stop adding unnecessary work to her side."
Hearing everything laid out again, it did seem like quite a lot. But I felt as though I was just following the Chief Priest's instructions, and since I was often forbidden from doing the work myself, I delegated to those around me frequently. Unlike at the castle, while at the Temple I had Fran to manage my health and no risk of collapsing, so I didn't particularly feel busy.
"In Rozemyne's case, for simply gaining knowledge, you only need to pile books in front of her and she'll study on her own. So a casual approach to studying is perfectly fine."
"Wait, what?! As for reading, please make sure to set aside plenty of time!"
My protest was blown away by the Chief Priest's single snort. He apparently wasn't going to consider it.
"Other than studying, it seems it's unfair that Rozemyne is the only one who gets to have conversations with her own father during mealtimes."
Dinner at the castle was when you discussed the day's activities. But Wilfried, who frequently snuck away or escaped, ended up with his mother's scolding making up the bulk of the conversation, while his father usually finished without saying much of anything.
Having probably done the same thing himself, Sylvester likely couldn't scold his son, couldn't encourage him with "do better," and could do nothing but stay quiet. It was easy to imagine.
"In my case, it's reports about my business ventures, so the conversation at least holds together. Wouldn't it help if Brother Wilfried were given some work to do too?"
If he were a commoner's child, he'd already be starting an apprenticeship. If simple tasks were assigned to him, perhaps he'd develop some sense of responsibility.
"...Also, isn't this incredibly late? By the time of the Baptism Ceremony, a merchant's child can already read, write, and do basic calculations. Even the children at my orphanage can do that... Rather than going easy on him because he's the Lord's son and waiting until after the Baptism Ceremony to start studying, wouldn't it be better to start teaching him when he's younger?"
"Even when taught from a young age, he doesn't retain it—that's why Sylvester was so astonished when he visited the orphanage."
Come to think of it, Sylvester had looked absolutely stunned when he saw the cards and picture books. He hadn't been surprised by the picture books and cards themselves, but rather by the fact that the children had learned to read over the winter.
We had proven that playing with cards and picture books led to quick learning, but you needed a rival—or rather, a playmate.
"I know it might increase the Attendants' burden, but let's prepare some cards for him."
"There's no need to look after Wilfried's situation too. I told you not to add unnecessary work. Honestly, you..."
The Chief Priest made a bitter face, but even he must have recognized that Wilfried struggling to read and write would be a problem. Incidentally, I also wanted to get through my study time quickly so I could read books.
The fourth bell rang, marking lunchtime, so the Chief Priest returned to his own quarters. "It's better for you to talk as a family," he said.
Brother Lamprecht ate with incredible enthusiasm. Mother also remarked, "I do wish the head chef would return sooner," so it seemed they were satisfied.
After lunch, I went over the concert details with Mother. Apparently, the tickets were nowhere near sufficient. Mother had planned to invite only the women from her own faction, but it turned out women from other factions had expressed interest as well.
"They had been acting as though they had absolutely no interest in Ferdinand, and then they suddenly did a complete about-face."
Mother was indignant, but people avoiding the Chief Priest—who had been glowered at by the Lord's mother—was perfectly natural when you considered self-preservation. It seemed the Chief Priest had been kept at a distance by those who feared the Lord's mother and rarely caused any visible commotion. In other words, with the Lord's mother gone, everything that had been suppressed was now exploding.
"...How many more seats should we add?"
"Let me think. It's safe to assume mostly noble women will attend. We might have to redo the venue selection from scratch."
The Noble District had about 300 nobles—this was the number who had completed their Baptism Ceremony. Roughly half were women, so about 150 would apply. Among them, there were certainly some with no interest in the Chief Priest.
However, if the upper-class nobles all showed up, the lower-class nobles would follow. I imagined many lower-class nobles would find the ticket price a burden.
"Mother, let's add about 30 more seats and prepare standing room. Having to stand is a good excuse to decline purchasing a ticket, and if the standing room is offered at a discount, fewer lower-class nobles will feel compelled to buy expensive tickets."
Having standing room would let them into the venue and save face with the upper-class nobles who invited them. Since the program was sold separately, it should be relatively easy on their wallets as well.
"Standing room? I'd never even considered that. But you're right, the tickets are expensive. Giving them a reason to decline is certainly helpful."
Then I reported that the Chief Priest and I had decided on the songs for the concert, and showed Mother the finished program. It was a paper-cut design—nothing like this had been made before, and she was absolutely enchanted.
I wrote on my writing board: "Program reprint essential—100 more copies." As I did, I told Mother: "This program is sold separately from the tickets. The revenue from it will also go toward the Donations."
"Oh, I'll buy one. Purchasing this is a donation, after all. It's a charitable activity, isn't it?"
Mother's eyes sparkled. I could easily imagine Mother—under the pretext of charity—buying up programs featuring the Chief Priest's portrait. ...I'm sorry, Father.
"Still, you keep coming up with one thing after another. Very impressive."
Even though he'd just eaten lunch, the growing Brother Lamprecht kept popping cookies into his mouth one after another as he blinked in admiration.
"Oh, Brother Lamprecht. On the day of the concert, I'd like knights stationed at the venue. Who should I ask to arrange that? Father? Or my adoptive father?"
If the number of attendees was increasing, security would be even more necessary.
"Knights at a concert? Well, why is that?"
"I believe people will faint from excitement or lose themselves entirely without warning. I also think we should prepare a first-aid room."
"Hold on. A concert, right?"
Seeing Brother Lamprecht's suspicious look, I let out a soft sigh. If I hadn't seen the Chief Priest's fechspiel performance and the reactions of those around him, I wouldn't have been this worried.
Even Wilma and
"I think showing you would be more effective than explaining."
I stood up, pulled one of the illustrations Wilma had given me from a drawer, and held it up for them to see.
"Oh my! What is that? Let me see it closely!"
Mother stood up with a clatter and marched over. Her movements were elegant, but the momentum was intense. I gently handed the illustration to Mother while glancing at Brother Lamprecht.
"I think we need a full knight deployment."
"...I'll ask Father. The first-aid room could be the lounge near the great hall. Is there anything else you need?"
"I'd like a stage set up so that people can't get too close to Ferdinand while he's performing—like during the Baptism Ceremony or the Star Binding ritual."
While I discussed various points and safety measures with Brother Lamprecht, evoking images of an idol concert, Mother let out a wondrous sigh of "Ooooh" and was completely absorbed in the illustration.
"Rozemyne, may I have this?"
"If the raw paper is completed, I plan to use this as the master copy for a printed edition, so please purchase a copy on the day of the event. If the raw paper doesn't turn out, I'll let you have this one."
"Understood."
Mother reluctantly let go and handed the illustration back. Since her eyes couldn't seem to leave it, I gave her a program as a gift.
"This program is exactly the kind of thing we produce in large quantities—printing is making many identical copies at once. We already have 100 programs printed. We're planning to make even more, so please do spread the word and be sure to bring your purse."
Please try even harder to make the concert a success.
"Just a tiny bit—how much exactly?"
Gil tilted his head, and Lutz sighed, his shoulders dropping.
"You change the proportions a little at a time, try different types of wax, and make several varieties to test. When we were doing Papermaking, Mine kept doing exactly that to figure out the right proportions."
"Seriously..."
Gil, who until now had only been told how to make things, looked thoroughly exasperated at the idea of proportion research and development as he headed to the workshop with Lutz.
After seeing the two of them off, I went to the Library and read every last one of the High Priest's secret letters.
It wasn't just love letters—suspicious, fishy letters had been packed into other boxes as well. Secret agreements with nobles, bribery exchanges, requests to place flower offerings... they spanned a wide range.
"Viscount
Most of the nobles who had been forced to wear veils and make greetings during the prayer ceremony appeared to have had ties to the High Priest. Using the incriminating letters as a basis, I would compile a list of undesirable people to avoid.
"I think this should be shown to the Chief Priest. Fran, could you carry these over?"
"Of course."
These might prove useful for future political dealings involving the Lord and the Chief Priest. I felt vaguely protective of the love letters alone, so I returned those to their original shelf.
"Chief Priest, I have a delivery."
Having Fran carry what appeared to be four books, I visited the Chief Priest's room. He looked at the book-shaped boxes and furrowed his brow.
"What are you bringing me? These aren't ordinary books, are they?"
"They're boxes disguised as books from a shelf that only the High Priest could open... inside were letters full of scheming and evidence of those schemes. How about using them as ammunition for conspiracies with your adoptive father?"
I opened one of the book-shaped boxes Fran had brought, and the Chief Priest's brow furrowed deeply. He picked up a letter or two, checked the senders, and let a dark smile creep across his face.
"Oh my, this is quite a lot."
"I'll give you all the contents. If possible, I'd like to keep the boxes. I love things like this."
I pointed to the book-shaped boxes adorned with leather and gems, and the Chief Priest sighed in exasperation and gave a small wave.
"I only need the contents. Do whatever you want with the boxes. Transfer everything inside."
"Thank you."
The Chief Priest's Attendants began stuffing letters into a wooden box.
Having reached a stopping point in his work, the Chief Priest set down his pen.
"Rozemyne, do you have any other plans?"
"No. I've already received reports from Gil and Lutz today and finished giving instructions. The orphanage in Hesse's town seems to be gradually coming together as well. ...Shall I help with anything?"
When I offered, the Chief Priest shook his head and began tidying his desk.
"No. I'd rather prioritize magic training. We need to get you able to make your riding beast as soon as possible, or you won't be ready for the Harvest Festival. Let's head to the castle."
"Then I'll go change."
In my room, I changed from my High Priest robes into noble attire and fastened my belt—the one the Chief Priest had given me. It was apparently essential for nobles, meant to hold Magical Tools.
I clipped the birdcage-like metal ornament containing a magic stone I had previously dyed with my own Magic Power onto my belt, just as the Chief Priest did.
"Shall we go, Rozemyne?"
I rode on Brigitte as we headed to the castle's magic training ground. This time, I absolutely had to create my riding beast.
*** Wilfried's complaints were dismissed by the Chief Priest.
If I send him some cards, he and Brother Lamprecht will learn their letters together.
Next time: the riding beast and the completion of the raw paper.