When multiple Lord Candidates from the same duchy were present, they approached together to give their greetings. For duchies with no Lord Candidates, the highest-ranking upper noble attended as their proxy.
I observed the protocol being followed around me, and before long, it was Ehrenfest's turn. I had
"Having her help you down from your chair…"
Soft chuckles leaked out from the crowd around us.
Wilfried's face stiffened at the whispered words, spoken just loudly enough for us to hear. Seeing his rigid expression and the fists he had clenched so tightly, I could tell the teasing murmurs circulating nearby were hitting him harder than they were me.
…Brother Wilfried simply wasn't accustomed to being mocked.
Ever since my commoner days, I had been told over and over that I was small, small, small, and nobles who lorded their status over me had said whatever they pleased. Beyond that, unless it was someone I was close to, I didn't particularly care what strangers had to say. But Wilfried was not the same way.
"Brother Wilfried, I don't mind at all what strangers say to me. I have plenty of allies, after all."
I took Wilfried's tightly clenched hand and said this softly, and both he and his attendants gave slight nods.
"…Very well then. Let's go,
Matching my pace, he led his attendants and headed straight toward the seats of the royal family.
No matter what anyone said, I was to hold my head high, carry myself with dignity, never lose my warm smile, and absolutely never hang my head. This was something I had been told ad nauseam since I began dealing with nobles. Once again, I followed those instructions, maintaining my smile as I walked.
When we reached the grand seats of the royal family, I knelt and crossed both hands before my chest. Then, bowing my head, I had to offer my first-time greeting.
The one who looked down upon us with a condescending nod was a handsome prince with magnificent golden hair and gray eyes. I had vaguely murmured something about how disappointing it would be if the prince were ugly, and the Chief Priest had told me that those in higher positions tended to be beautiful because royalty only took beautiful people as their spouses. Well, I could certainly see why.
"Prince
"Permitted."
With his leave, Wilfried and I poured magic power into our rings to send our blessings. I was careful to pour in only a tiny amount so as not to overdo it.
…Good.
I was inwardly relieved that my blessing had turned out to be roughly the same size as Wilfried's, when I realized he was already continuing with his greeting.
"It is an honor to make your acquaintance, Prince Anastasius. From Ehrenfest, Wilfried and Rozemyne have come to
Anastasius, who had been listening to our greeting, commanded, "Raise your heads." I slowly lifted mine, only to find him narrowing his eyes as he looked down at me. He studied me from top to bottom, then let out a snort.
"So you're Rozemyne? You're the one they call Ehrenfest's Saint? The rumors spoke of rare beauty, exceptional intelligence, an abundance of magic power worthy of being taken in as the Lord's adoptive daughter, and a heart brimming with benevolence… but where is any of that?"
…When had those rumors gotten so inflated? That was what I wanted to know!
"Rumors are so conveniently twisted, aren't they? I've never heard such things myself. Perhaps they got mixed up with rumors about someone else, or perhaps people enjoy exaggerating for their own amusement."
If such rumors had been circulating among the nobles, then of course they would laugh upon seeing me. No matter how you looked at it, the praise was far too much for a child who had barely completed her
Perhaps my breezy dismissal wasn't entertaining enough, because Anastasius narrowed his eyes in displeasure.
"How tiresome… It seems Ehrenfest must truly be desperate, having to manufacture a Saint out of a child with merely a bit more magic power than usual."
"Indeed, Your Highness."
As expected of a prince—how wise he is—I flattered him with the appropriate words and gave a sweet smile.
"Oh?"
"As you know, Ehrenfest is a duchy of no particular note, a wholly insignificant territory. We lack so much magic power that we must take a child like me, turn her into a Saint, and adopt her as our daughter. We harbor the impossible hope that perhaps the flower we offered to the gods might someday return to our hands."
…We were already a struggling bottom-tier duchy, and having our magic power drained by those around us only made things worse—all because your family instigated that unnecessary power struggle. At least give back the priests you took to the central
As I spat this poison inwardly, I tilted my head with a gentle, troubled expression and placed a hand on my cheek.
"The central duchy purged so spectacularly that they scraped together nobles and priests from the provinces to fill the gaps, so perhaps things are running smoothly for them. But the duchies that were robbed are having a terrible time. Being laughed at by the very family that caused all this chaos across multiple duchies does make one rather irritated."
"They say you became a Saint to unite your duchy, but even with you as Saint, Ehrenfest doesn't exactly look united. You were attacked by your own duchy's nobles, weren't you?"
"Yes. Whenever power shifts, large or small, some degree of chaos is inevitable. I'm grateful that the sacrifices were limited to myself alone."
"Hmph."
Anastasius raised his brows slightly and waved his hand dismissively. Taking that as our cue to leave, Wilfried and I rose and took our leave.
…That ended without incident. Thank goodness.
But our greetings weren't over with the prince alone. In fact, the real challenge was just beginning. I steeled myself and continued onward to greet the others.
The great and medium duchies ranked first through fifth truly didn't give Ehrenfest the time of day. They offered their blessings without saying anything noteworthy, and our exchanges were over almost before they began.
Next, we moved on to greet
"Dietlinde, I humbly ask that you permit me to offer a prayer of blessing for this rare encounter, born of the strict selection of Ewigeliebe, the God of Life."
"I permit it."
When Wilfried and I poured magic power into our rings and sent our blessing, Dietlinde smiled sweetly.
"I'm so glad to see you, Wilfried. Two years ago, you invited my mother to Ehrenfest, didn't you? I was told I could accompany her, and I was so looking forward to visiting Ehrenfest."
As a Lord Candidate, you rarely get the chance to meet relatives in other duchies, right? Dietlinde said this with an innocent smile.
"But then, Rozemyne was attacked and fell into a slumber, so the trip to Ehrenfest was canceled, wasn't it? I was so disappointed. I'm glad we can finally meet at the
"I look forward to it as well."
When Wilfried responded with a polite smile, Dietlinde's own smile deepened.
"You don't need to be so formal with me, Wilfried. I'm a fourth-year, so please feel free to rely on me anytime."
"You are too kind."
When I added my own polite reply alongside Wilfried's, Dietlinde placed a hand on her cheek and tilted her head.
"Tell me, Wilfried. I heard that Rozemyne was poisoned and fell into a slumber at Yuleve. Parents' remedies don't always agree, I suppose. It must be very rare to sleep for two whole years, but has her body recovered properly?"
She spoke with apparent concern, remarking on how difficult it must have been, yet her gaze never once turned toward me.
"There's no need to worry about Rozemyne. She has recovered enough to attend the Royal Academy like this. Dietlinde, your kind words are most appreciated."
"Lady Dietlinde, thank you for your concern. I was never particularly robust to begin with, so I'm quite accustomed to being bedridden. I'm perfectly fine now."
"Oh? Then perhaps I can visit Ehrenfest this summer? I'd love to get to know you better, Wilfried."
I noticed that Dietlinde's warm smile never once turned in my direction, and I couldn't help furrowing my brow.
…Her attitude is rather transparent, but what exactly is she after?
As long as she simply disliked me, that would be one thing—but there was the possibility she had some ulterior motive. And I had no way of knowing how much Dietlinde actually knew.
"To bring nobles from other duchies in, we would first need Lord Ehrenfest's permission, so I'm afraid I cannot give you a definitive answer on my own."
"I see. I'll look forward to hearing from Wilfried, then."
My existence was essentially ignored as our greeting with Ahrensbach came to an end, and we moved on. As I slowly rose from my seat, I thought to myself…
…So the prince knew I had been attacked by my own duchy's nobles and collapsed. But how far had that information spread?
Was it common knowledge in noble society that I had fallen into a slumber? Or was Dietlinde's remark perhaps a veiled boast, implying she knew everything there was to know about Ehrenfest?
Completely in the dark, I decided to deflect all questions with an ambiguous smile, refusing to give anyone extra information.
The duchies ranked seventh through twelfth were medium and small territories locked in fierce competition with Ehrenfest for their current standings. Positions could flip dramatically in a single year, so these encounters tended to be the most confrontational, with the harshest remarks.
They all said in unison, as though rehearsed, that they hadn't expected Ehrenfest's famed Saint to be such a child. But beneath the mockery, I could sense a fear of being overtaken in the rankings, and visible relief that I wasn't the Saint the rumors described.
"I'm still recovering from my illness, so I'm afraid I cannot push myself too hard."
"Let us both continue to improve."
"I'm grateful that you regard me as a worthy peer."
With these three responses, I deflected the mockery and concluded each greeting.
I didn't yet fully understand how much impact a shift in rankings could have, but having such caustic words hurled at me only made me want to push Ehrenfest's ranking up even higher.
…Time to get serious about the Ehrenfest Academic Improvement Committee.
Once we finished greeting those above us, it was time to receive greetings from those ranked below. As expected, those with similar rankings regarded us as threats. Among them was the Lord Candidate from Flebelterk, our neighbor to the west.
Flebelterk's ranking this year was fifteenth—the lowest among the medium duchies. Before I fell into my slumber, they had lost a power struggle and were in the process of rebuilding their territory. I had spent two years helping fill their small chalice. Yet they were still at fifteenth, which meant they were still struggling to recover.
…Perhaps it was because I had refused to fill small chalices for other duchies.
Every year, my adoptive father would ask, and I had always agreed. But three years ago in winter, I told him, "This is the last time. I won't do it anymore."
On top of that, I had fallen into a slumber at Yuleve. In a situation where even Wilfried and
Having lost their source of magic power from Ehrenfest, Flebelterk must have dropped even further in rank over these two years.
"Wilfried, Rozemyne. I humbly ask that you permit me to offer a prayer of blessing for this rare encounter, born of the strict selection of Ewigeliebe, the God of Life."
"We grant you permission."
"I am Rüdiger of Flebelterk, currently a fifth-year student. Forgive my forwardness, but my parents are siblings, so I feel a very close blood connection to you, Wilfried."
The one who knelt to offer his blessing was Rüdiger. True to his claim of a close blood tie, he bore a striking resemblance to Wilfried. His hair was a similar shade, and his eyes were the same deep blue as Charlotte's. If Rüdiger and Wilfried stood side by side, they truly could pass for brothers.
"My greatest wish is that we, too, may build a relationship as close as the one between our parents."
"The feeling is mutual. I look forward to it."
Once the greetings were concluded, lunch was brought out. Eating with me were
I took a bite and murmured thoughtfully. It was standard noble fare. I had assumed that since Ehrenfest was so rural, the central duchy's cuisine would be far more refined and delicious. But between the annual Lord's Conference and interactions at the Royal Academy like this, perhaps cultural exchanges in things like food happened naturally enough. There was nothing particularly noteworthy about the taste.
However, there were ingredients I had never seen in Ehrenfest, and I would have liked to examine them more closely. It was unlikely I would get the chance to visit the pantry, though.
"…The taste is rather ordinary."
"Just a few years ago, I would have thought nothing could surpass this."
Hartmut smiled ruefully. The dormitory's meals had changed three years ago, and the flavors had apparently been improving every year since. The chefs growing accustomed to the new cooking methods was likely a big part of that.
"I suppose we shouldn't discuss the food too openly."
After that, the conversation turned to the day's greetings, and Hartmut praised me for how smoothly I had deflected everything. There were many things I wanted to think about and ask regarding relations with other duchies, but this wasn't the place for such discussions. Those would have to wait until we returned to the dormitory.
"Let's keep up this same approach for the post-meal socializing. Since you're supposed to be an invalid this year, Lady Rozemyne, please stay seated here rather than moving about. I'll circulate and gather information myself."
"Understood. I'll leave it to you, Hartmut."
As we finalized our plans over the meal, dessert was brought out—a galette topped with Lutreebe jam, adorned with what appeared to be tiny, adorable bird-shaped sugar confections.
They glistened beautifully and were arranged with truly lovely presentation. Neither
"It feels like such a waste to ruin it."
Saying this, I took a bite of the galette with the red jam. The next instant, my eyes went blank as I was struck by a shock of violent sweetness. It was an absolutely monstrous level of sugary.
It was the kind of sweetness that screamed, "Just use as much expensive sugar as you can!" and I abandoned the dessert after just two bites.
…Ugh, my mouth feels all gritty.
When I set down my cutlery and took a sip of my drink, those around me murmured similar sentiments—"The first bite or two is delicious, but…"—wearing similar expressions. Moderation in all things.
I quietly set down my cup and let out a breath of relief.
"Do you think my recipe books will become popular in the central duchy as well? If they find this delicious, then spreading them might be rather difficult."
"I believe they will spread, but I imagine it will take considerable time before the chefs acquire the techniques and the flavors improve. Our own household chef struggled quite a bit as well."
At Brother Cornelius's words, I nodded slowly. Even if the recipes spread, the techniques would take a while to catch up. Until then, perhaps I would have to face this monstrous sweetness at every tea party I was invited to.
…Tea parties had just become even more terrifying.
"I think spreading your recipe books in the central duchy is well and good, but I would recommend revealing Lady Rozemyne's recipes gradually, rather than all at once. Do you have other recipes or information that could serve as your trump cards beyond the recipe books?"
Hartmut raised his brows slightly, as if testing me. I set down my cutlery, wiped my mouth, and answered with a smile.
"Of course. There's information that can be shared outside the duchy, information that can be shared with Ehrenfest's leadership, information shared only with guardians, and information that only I hold… Even with cooking recipes alone, I naturally separate what must be kept secret from what can be made public."
Hartmut's eyes gleamed with amusement. "Ho ho."
"That sounds quite exciting. Then, how shall we go about building your Saint legend?"
"…What? There's no need to build a Saint legend. I want to sink into obscurity as an ordinary student."
Everyone around us had finally begun to think, "So that's all there is to this so-called Saint." I wanted to blend in as an ordinary student and live a peaceful, stable life. I had already decided to spend my time at the Royal Academy sequestered in the library.
But upon hearing my wishes, Hartmut narrowed his eyes slightly and raised the corners of his lips. His expression looked gentle, but his smile had become the kind that brooked no argument.
"I'm afraid that's not possible. To raise Ehrenfest's influence, the existence of the Saint is absolutely essential."
"Hartmut?"
…Wait—had some strange switch been flipped?
From there, Hartmut began recounting his first encounter with the legend of the Saint.
Apparently, Hartmut had been brought by
As a child, Hartmut had been disappointed. His mother would be serving someone younger than himself, and moreover, a girl who, while becoming the Lord's adoptive daughter, was still merely a fellow upper noble's daughter.
"But at the Baptism Ceremony, Lady Rozemyne gave her blessing to every single guest in return. The cascade of blue light overflowing from her ring and pouring into the great hall—it was a blessing on a scale I had never witnessed. It was the first time I had ever been moved to tears by a blessing."
My blessing had apparently left a deep impression on Hartmut's heart. But that was the Saint legend my guardians had orchestrated. Hartmut had been completely deceived.
"That was a conspiracy by my guardians. They orchestrated it to keep the nobles from protesting my adoption. I am not a Saint."
"My reason for recognizing Lady Rozemyne as a Saint goes beyond that."
After hearing from his mother about my efforts to reform Wilfried in the autumn, Hartmut had apparently thought, "Now that she's been adopted as a daughter, she'll be a rival competing for the next generation—why not simply kick her aside?" He had considered how he would drive Wilfried out if he were one of her retainers, and offered his suggestions to Ottilie.
But Ottilie had rejected his ideas, telling him, "Lady Rozemyne has no interest in such things. Her mind is entirely focused on lifting everyone up. It would be far more effective to lift everyone up while establishing Lady Rozemyne as the Saint."
"So I thought about how to build the Saint legend most effectively. In the end, I couldn't think of anything that surpassed what Lord
Then, during the winter debut, I had performed the unusual feat of offering a blessing to the gods while playing music. I had been startled and hastily tried to suppress the blessing, but to those watching, it had apparently appeared quite different.
"The light of the blessing spilling from the fingers that played the Fechspiel was truly beautiful. The blessing directed toward
…Had it? At the time, my mind had been consumed entirely by "Oh no, what have I done? What do I do?" and I couldn't remember a thing.
All I had were the shock of the blessing occurring on its own and the memory of being forcibly expelled by the Chief Priest.
"That was when I became certain. When Lady Rozemyne effortlessly surpassed Lord Ferdinand's plans, I knew—she is a Saint. I would very much like for others to recognize Lady Rozemyne as a Saint as well."
When he declared that he would spare no effort toward that goal, I felt my cheek twitch.
I had thought Hartmut was a somewhat sensible attendant, but apparently not. Because he was so capable, I had no idea just how far he might accelerate this Saint legend of mine.
…I think I may have taken on a rather dangerous person as my attendant.
The social gathering was now over.
The reason so many strong-willed attendants had converged here was probably because kindred spirits attract one another.
Next up: lectures and exams.