Ascendance of a Bookworm: Short Story Collection Volume 2 E-Book

Miya Kazuki

• Herausgeber: J-Novel Club
• Kategorie: Fantasy und Science-Fiction
• Serie: Ascendance of a Bookworm: Short Story Collection
• Sprache: Englisch

Seitenzahl: 328

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2025

Beschreibung

Rozemyne’s third year at the Royal Academy reaches its conclusion. So much has changed since her days as an apprentice blue shrine maiden—her name, of course, but also her height, as she’s now twenty-five centimeters taller than she used to be! More and more books have been printed, and a lot of things have happened without her knowing. Lutz and Tuuli are engaged now?! What?!

This second volume of Bookworm’s Short Story Collection is packed with previously unpublished chapters that expand upon an already extensive world. Nineteen stories spanning Parts 2 to 5 cover events never seen in the main series, supplying readers with a greater insight into Myne’s attendants, her lower-city family, the nobles of other duchies, and even members of royalty!

Includes behind-the-scenes notes from author Miya Kazuki and more four-panel manga by You Shiina.

Leseprobe

Table of Contents

Cover

Effa — Meeting the Attendants

Rico — Change Begins

Brunhilde — Debuting Dyes with Lady Rozemyne

Brunhilde — As the Daughter of Giebe Groschel

Lutz — Growing Healthily

Raimund — Duchy and Mentor Relations

Otto — Winter Preparations and a Traveling Merchant’s Request

Florencia — Completing

The Story of Fernestine

Tuuli — Self-Awareness amid Everything

Gunther — Soldiers and Knights Gathering Intel

Justus — An Aged Board and a New Letter

Barthold — Hidden Wrath

Loyalitat — Sneaking Suspicion

Anastasius — Various Goals

Lutz — Tuuli’s Worries

Rozemyne — Speaking to Lasfam

Effa — How They’ve Grown

Tuuli — Engagement Circumstances

Letizia — My First Spring Prayer

Afterword

A Comfy Life with My Family by You Shiina

Color Illustrations

About J-Novel Club

Copyright

Landmarks

Color Images

Table of Contents

Effa — Meeting the Attendants

Description: A previously unpublished short story from the online collection, set at the beginning of Part 2. Effa meets Fran and Gil, Myne’s new temple attendants. Would someone from the lower city welcome such well-dressed strangers? How does she feel about them bringing her daughter home, especially so soon after the High Bishop threatened her with execution?

Author’s Note: This was one of my ideas for the anime Blu-ray bonus short story. I went with Delia’s in the end, so I posted this one online.

“I’m home, Mom.”

I was drawing water from the well when Myne called out to me from behind. She must have just returned from the temple. I picked up my bucket of water and turned to see her and Lutz, entirely as expected.

“Welcome back,” I said to them both. “And... who’s that with you?”

Accompanying my daughter were two people I didn’t recognize. One was a boy who looked to be about Lutz’s age, while the other was a young man. I doubted they were from this part of the city—their clothes actually fit them, and they stood politely while anxiously looking around. They must have been from the wealthy side of town where the Gilberta Company was located.

Did something happen again...?

The last time I’d seen a leherl in the Gilberta Company’s uniform, Myne had suddenly collapsed in town and needed to be carried home. It had taken me as much strength as I could muster not to faint after hearing the burden she had put on Mrs. Corinna.

“Myne, what did you do this time?” I asked.

“Nothing!” she exclaimed in response. “I can’t believe you have so little trust in me! That’s so mean!”

Mean or not, she must have done something for people this well-dressed to have come all the way to the poor side of town. I turned to Lutz instead. He told Myne it was her own fault for causing trouble all the time, then answered my unspoken question.

“It’s fine, Mrs. Effa. Myne’s telling the truth.”

“Oh, I see.”

“Mom! Why do you only trust Lutz?!”

I continued to focus on Lutz, completely ignoring Myne’s complaint. “Who are these two, then?”

“We’re here to introduce them. More often than not, they’re going to bring Myne home from now on.”

“Let’s continue this discussion inside,” Myne said, looking around as if on guard against our neighbors.

I noticed all the people giving us strange looks and nodded. For these two to have brought Myne back, they must have been from the temple; whatever we needed to talk about couldn’t be done in public.

We all went inside, where the duo from the temple once again looked around. The boy seemed more curious than anything, but the grimace on the young man’s face made his displeasure more than clear. I couldn’t blame him for his reaction; our home wasn’t anywhere near as clean as the temple.

It might be better for all of us if they stop at the well whenever they drop Myne home...

I was trying to figure out how best to host our guests when Myne started introducing them to me, speaking as if she hadn’t even noticed the air in the room. “Remember how the High Priest said that I’d get my own attendants upon becoming an apprentice? Well, here they are. Mom, meet Fran and Gil.”

“Indeed,” the older of the two said. “I am Fran, and this is Gil. It is a pleasure to meet you.”

Before I could even think of a response, the pair suddenly knelt and crossed their arms in front of their chests. I stared at them in shock and took a cautious step back, even putting a hand on Myne’s shoulder and trying to hide her behind me.

“Don’t panic, Mom. They’re just, umm... showing their respect.” Myne winced a little, then came out from behind me and patted her two attendants on their shoulders. “Fran, Gil, please don’t kneel here. My mom won’t understand what you’re doing.”

“But—”

“It’s fine,” Myne said, cutting the young man short. “When you’re in the lower city, do as we do.”

Fran had more to say, but he simply nodded and stood up. That was a relief. Though he’d acted with the best intentions, I was terribly worried about him and the younger attendant dirtying their clothes.

Just as I feared—look at those white marks on their knees!

“Um, Mom...” Myne said. “Under orders from the High Priest, Fran needs to be able to manage my health by autumn.”

“I won’t always be free to bring Myne home,” Lutz added, looking apologetic. “On days I’m too busy, Fran and Gil will take my place.”

Myne couldn’t make the journey on her own; the temple was too far, and no matter how healthy she looked on any given day, there was a chance she might fall sick before she got home. By assigning these two attendants to her, the High Priest was carrying out his promise to look after Myne as much as he could.

“I get how you must feel about them being from the temple, but they’re good people. You can trust them,” Lutz assured me. “Of course, we don’t want the neighbors to know the truth about them, so we plan to say they’re working with the Gilberta Company. We’d appreciate it if you could play along.”

“I can’t thank you enough for how much you support Myne, but shouldn’t you focus on your work? You don’t need to do all this when you already have your hands full.” Taking her to the temple, bringing her home, and inspecting her health were all duties for her family—and now, her new attendants—to take care of. Lutz was sweet to have helped us for this long, but we couldn’t keep interfering with his apprenticeship.

Lutz shook his head. “Master Benno told me to stick with her, so keeping an eye on her is part of my job. Truth be told, it’s for our benefit as well as hers.”

As it turned out, Myne’s inventions were of great value to the Gilberta Company. Benno couldn’t risk losing such an important connection.

That reminds me—there was that shocking business exchange at Mrs. Corinna’s house.

I thought back to the sums of money I’d seen, and a shiver ran down my spine. The world of merchants was too crazy for me to understand. It made me all the more grateful for Lutz’s assistance.

“If you insist,” I said. “Lutz, Fran, Gil—my daughter’s health is in your hands.”

Lutz smiled at me, then at Fran and Gil. The attendants’ tense expressions eased in response. I’d expected them to look more frustrated—or to show some other sign of having an unpleasant job forced on them—but they started patting each other on the back.

Oh...?

Only then did it hit me. Fran hadn’t grimaced at how dirty our home was; he’d just been anxious about being somewhere new and about whether or not I would accept him and Gil.

I shouldn’t have jumped to conclusions.

Lutz had asked me to trust Myne’s new attendants, and trust them I would. They spoke and carried themselves politely as they started to explain Myne’s plans for tomorrow. I could already imagine how our neighbors would react to their visits.

They’re going to bombard me with questions tomorrow, aren’t they?

Rico — Change Begins

Description: A previously unpublished short story from the online collection that takes place early in Part 2. Rico, a child stuck in the orphanage’s basement, experiences the start of a great change. Though he always had a name, it never came up in the main story because he barely remembered it and nobody really spoke to him.

Author’s Note: This started out as a short story for the manga but was too dark for a volume aimed at younger readers, so I posted it online instead. Please enjoy a happier story featuring Rico in Part 2 Volume 3 of the manga release.

Light shone into the basement from a window too high for anyone but an adult to reach, leaving a bright rectangle on the wall. My thoughts felt hazy as I watched it move ever so slowly toward the floor.

It’s almost time, I think.

Just a little while longer—then our divine gifts would arrive. I could tell as much from the light on the wall and the ringing of the bell.

I’m hungry...

We didn’t really move or speak; there was nothing for us to do but wait. Moving around made the hunger pangs worse, and it would get hotter as morning turned to noon. The only sound was the rustling of hay whenever someone readjusted themselves.

The light from the window was hurting my eyes, so I closed them and lay down. I was so sweaty from the heat that hay clung to my face and body. It felt gross enough that I wanted to wipe it away, but I didn’t have the strength to move my arms.

Beneath me was the cloth we used as blankets during the winter. I squirmed against it until the hay no longer stuck to me, not even caring how dirty it was.

Where did everyone go?

They were distant memories to me now, but there had once been a time when gray shrine maidens would come to the basement to wash us, clean, and give us food. Back then, our days weren’t spent lying around, too weary to move; we would actually run around and play. I vaguely remembered climbing onto the table and jumping between bales of hay. Rather than silence, the room had been full of laughter and upset voices.

As thoughts of the past ran through my mind, I stared at the door separating us from the rest of the world. There were stairs on the other side, but only those with permission could use them—the shrine maidens who brought us food or those of us who managed to survive long enough to reach baptism age and escape.

It’s so far away...

The largest of us lay closest to the door, so they received more food than the rest. I was small in comparison, and the others had driven me to the opposite end of the room. It took a while for whatever food remained to reach me, and the scraps that did were usually stolen by those around me.

Is it time yet?

The gray shrine maidens who brought us our meals had once been stuck in this same basement. Each morning, they opened the window too high for us to reach, changed our chamber pot, fetched the bowls from the night before, and put down breakfast and water. Around noon, they simply swapped the bowls, and at night, they switched the bowls again and gave us more water before closing the window.

Every day was more of the same.

“My turn or not, I really loathe coming here,” came a voice through the door.

“Nonetheless, this is part of our job as apprentice gray shrine maidens. You open the window, Rosina.”

“I think not. I shall place the food while you open the window.”

“Goodness, Rosina. Could you be more considerate? I carried the bowls here, not you.”

“Let us get this over with. I wish to leave as soon as I can.”

As the voices grew louder, we all crawled toward the table. It was time. We would need to act fast if we wanted to eat.

The three apprentice shrine maidens who came into the basement split up. One put food on the table, another opened the window, and the last gathered together yesterday’s bowls that were still scattered about.

In the basement, even something as simple as eating was a struggle. The shrine maidens always lined the bowls up on the table. Moving was hard for me, as was clambering up onto a chair to reach the food, but I needed to act quickly or the other kids would eat it all. A hand shot out toward the bowl I’d managed to grab. I moved to protect it, only to have it knocked from my grasp.

“Ngh...!”

It struck the ground with a clatter, and a piece of soup-soaked bread rolled across the hay. I dove down from my chair, then lunged at the morsel and pushed it into the safety of my mouth. It was gritty with dirt, but its pleasant taste still spread across my tongue.

Oh... It’s gone...

I’d waited so long for the divine gifts to arrive, only to receive a single piece of bread. We were given so little food that my hunger never went away. I crawled over to where the bowl had landed and licked it until the taste of soup faded away completely. Maybe I could get some joy from the spoon.

No... He took it.

The boy next to me—the healthiest of us all—was sitting next to the table, lapping at my spoon as well as his own. I’d eaten so little, but my only choice was to sprawl out and wait for the next divine gifts to arrive.

How long until we’re fed again...?

I turned to the light still moving down the wall. It wouldn’t be anytime soon.

The bell rang again, and young voices reached us through the open window. Were there commoners visiting the temple today? It was a strange time for them to be here, if so.

Out of nowhere, a dull thump shook the basement and made me twitch. What was going on? I was more curious than afraid, so I turned to the source of the noise just in time to see a hole appear in the wall beside me. A door I’d never even noticed—one that had always been firmly shut—opened with a loud creak, flooding the basement with summer light. A cool wind came with it, easing the heavy air.

Through the open door, I saw two people. I couldn’t raise my head enough to see more than their legs, but I grunted and groaned as I tried to stumble to my feet.

No sooner had the basement lit up than something sweet fell onto the ground. I recognized the smell. Our divine gifts had come earlier than usual and through a door at the opposite end of the basement—a door I just so happened to be closest to. I desperately crawled through it before anyone else could react, seized the tasty-smelling thing that was right before my eyes, and eagerly bit into it.

Whatever I was eating reminded me of bread, only it was soft and surprisingly easy to chew. I didn’t even need soup to soak it in.

Wow!

My mouth was getting dry, but it didn’t matter; I couldn’t drink water or someone would steal the rest of my food. Instead, I continued to shove what must have been bread in my mouth, almost in a daze. Not even a loud thumping sound and a cry of “Sister Myne!” was enough to pull me from my trance.

It’s so good.

“Sister Myne! Sister Myne!” someone cried tearfully.

We were all dragged back into the basement, and the door was shut behind us. Not one of us resisted; we were too focused on eating.

Oh. It’s all gone.

As that realization set in, my stomach started to ache. I wasn’t sure whether the strange bread was to blame or I’d simply eaten too much, but it didn’t matter—my heart was full to bursting. Who knew when I would get to eat that much again?

I took a sip of water, then rolled on the ground in delight, savoring the taste of that pleasant-smelling food. It was nicer and less dense than the bread we usually received, and it didn’t even need soup to help it go down. Satisfied, I went back to watching the light on the wall.

It was late at night—well past our last meal of the day—when the same thunk from before shook the basement walls. The back door opened with a creak, and a child carrying something that smelled nice snuck in.

“Shh,” he said. “I’m Gil, Sister Myne’s apprentice attendant. Boys aren’t allowed down here, so keep this a secret, okay?”

If staying quiet meant getting more food, then I wouldn’t make a sound. The others must have had the same thought; they simply nodded in response.

“This is from Sister Myne,” Gil said. “We won’t be able to wash you all until you’ve eaten and regained some of your energy.”

The boy handed out more bread, this time with soup. We each received the same amount, and there were far more bowls than usual.

“Your hands are dirty—don’t stick them in your food. Eat with your spoons instead.”

“Hey! No stealing! Everyone gets an equal share!”

Gil gave us all sorts of orders while we ate. I didn’t know why he was being so bossy, but a kid much bigger and older than me smiled and muttered, “That’s what Maddie used to say.” It was barely a whisper—his voice was hoarse from how little we all spoke—but Gil overheard him nonetheless.

“Maddie used to look after me too,” he said, eyes wide with surprise. Then a grin spread across his face. “She was real strict about how we ate, huh?”

Who’s Maddie?

I didn’t understand them, but that wasn’t important; for the first time in forever, I was actually enjoying a meal. I couldn’t remember when I’d last managed to fill my belly without someone trying to steal from me.

“I’ll come back this time tomorrow,” Gil said. “Sister Myne asked me to. Night.”

And with that, he left as quickly and as quietly as he’d come. If what he’d said was true, then we’d receive more food every night from now on. My cheeks twitched as a rare expression of delight made it onto my face.

“He’s coming back tomorrow...?”

“He said good night...”

Low murmurs carried through the basement. Maybe because we weren’t hungry for once—or maybe because of Gil—people were actually speaking to each other.

I rolled on the hay, my stomach full. Even in the dead of night, the room felt so much brighter than usual. I turned to the window and saw the moon, whiter and more radiant than I could ever remember. For some strange reason, seeing it cut through the darkness made me cry.

Brunhilde — Debuting Dyes with Lady Rozemyne

Description: A previously unpublished short story from the online collection, set partway through Part 4 Volume 5. Brunhilde depicts the dyeing contest from the perspective of an apprentice archattendant. Rozemyne seems a little out of the loop, but she makes it through socializing by the skin of her teeth.

Author’s Note: This was going to be part of the main story, but it seemed a little out of place, so I made it into a short story instead. Hopefully it conveys the contrast between Rozemyne’s perspective and those of most other nobles.

Despite her age, Lady Rozemyne set more trends than any other member of Ehrenfest’s archducal family. Her influence extended to recipes, education, fashion, music, and printing. That was why I, someone raised to be the future Giebe Groschel, wished to serve her most of all. I wanted to promote her trends at the Royal Academy and increase our duchy’s sway on the national stage, no matter how marginally.

In the end, we couldn’t have asked for a better reception. Lady Rozemyne’s trends spread through the Royal Academy with just as much fervor as in Ehrenfest, attracting the attention of even Klassenberg and the Sovereignty. I’d wanted to capitalize on that momentum with the release of even more new products, but not one of them was ready to be revealed.

Ehrenfest had so many commoners that I’d proposed working them around the clock to get our products out on time, but Lady Rozemyne had furrowed her brow and shook her head.

“Imagine I wake up one day and, upon seeing the size of my retinue, elect to give you all an extra helping of work,” she said. “Now imagine that my other retainers leave, and you suddenly find their duties thrust upon you—not as a temporary measure but as a permanent expectation. How would you feel about that?”

“I doubt I could complete the duties of an entire retinue on my own,” I replied.

“The same is true for commoners. Everyone has their role in society—farmers grow crops, craftspeople make things, soldiers keep the peace, and merchants do business. We’re setting up new workshops, but not everyone is suited to working in them. Just as nobles—even those with an abundance of mana—aren’t able to do everything themselves, there’s only so much we can expect our commoners to bear.”

To be frank, I still wasn’t sure what Lady Rozemyne had meant. Commoners always did as they were told; I’d never had cause to stop and think about their careers or other circumstances. Did we really need to concern ourselves with their burden?

We could just give the order, and they would figure it out themselves.

Lady Rozemyne, known to many as the Saint of Ehrenfest, had a temple upbringing that made her tough to follow. Her actions and stances frequently confused me—and Rihyarda, for that matter—and my attempts to bring her printing industry to my home province of Groschel had led to all manner of surprises. As it turned out, Lady Rozemyne went to the lower city and instructed the craftspeople there in person. Hartmut and Philine were both against it, for obvious reasons, but they steeled their resolve and went with her anyway.

I would never have gone to the lower city by choice, but Lady Rozemyne had insisted that I check on our workers in Groschel firsthand, and my father had instructed me to remain with her at all times. Accompanying her when she nonchalantly headed to the lower city was a nightmarish ordeal. Its streets were rank with a foul odor, and its commoners were no less unpleasant—they spoke crudely and carried themselves like beasts, all while looking the part. There was nothing to be found in that wretched place but filth.

“By beautifying Ehrenfest’s lower city, we can improve Aub Ehrenfest’s reputation in the eyes of merchants from other duchies,” Lady Rozemyne had explained, conveying the archduke’s words with a smile. Caring only about the areas meant for nobles and neglecting the lower city was apparently as foolish as fancying up one’s parlor and bedrooms only to leave the front door and garden untouched.

Lady Rozemyne toured the lower city and did everything in her power to make the Gutenbergs’ work run smoothly. She clearly trusted them, and the way they understood what she wanted from a mere few words seemed to make for an ideal working relationship. It was strange to observe, all things considered; we noble retainers hadn’t even come close to forming such tight-knit connections with our lady.

“Lady Rozemyne has rather smooth relationships with her temple attendants,” Hartmut said with a shrug. He had visited the temple despite his status as an archnoble. “It would seem that time and mutual understanding really are key.”

Our lady’s temple attendants seemed to perform the work of attendants and scholars. Hartmut said they had particular roles to attend to, be it managing the orphanage, overseeing her workshop, assisting with her duties as the High Bishop, or maintaining communication with the lower city.

“Matters advanced rather quickly when I spoke about scholarly work and conversed with Fran and the others about their personal duties,” Hartmut continued. “Lady Rozemyne will need to learn the ways of noble society at large—that much is a given—but we must make compromises if we hope to earn her trust. I suspect that Ehrenfest will, as time goes on, develop with our lady at its center. She is known as its saint for a reason.”

Hartmut beamed from ear to ear, his faith in Lady Rozemyne unwavering. His worship of her had risen to even more dangerous heights since he started visiting the temple.

Hmm... Her temple attendants, he says...

Until now, such people had been of no interest to me. They were mere orphaned gray priests and shrine maidens, but both Hartmut and Philine professed their competence, and seeing them both visit the temple had piqued my curiosity.

Soon enough, a meeting about debuting Lady Rozemyne’s dyed cloth was scheduled. We would meet with the relevant merchants not at the castle but at the temple. Not too long ago, it had been reviled more than anywhere else in Ehrenfest, yet my fellow retainers and even Lady Elvira entered without the slightest hesitation. I couldn’t risk them leaving me behind.

Despite my nerves, I stepped into the temple. It was as clean as people had told me—as clean as the castle, in fact—and the furniture was pristine enough for even an archnoble to use. The tea and sweets that Lady Rozemyne’s attendants served were delightful, and it soon became apparent that her days here were no worse than those she spent in the castle.

“Fran was trained by Ferdinand himself and received notably high marks,” Lady Rozemyne declared with a proud smile, boasting about her temple attendants. Her genuine praise both warmed my heart and struck me with anxiety. Would she speak of me so generously?

This was our first time consulting merchants for a tea party—let alone one meant for debuting dyed goods. The very idea had shocked me, but the merchants had done a fine job of communicating Lady Rozemyne’s intentions to Lady Elvira, who had continued to lead the meeting in a noble fashion. I could sense deep down that I wouldn’t last as Lady Rozemyne’s retainer unless I developed the same talent for socializing.

Lady Rozemyne broke from her quiet pondering to abruptly shout, “Renaissance!” thus selecting her fashion-related title. Curiously enough, though she had spoken with such certainty, she still seemed a little conflicted.

Perhaps she isn’t satisfied with the name she created.

On the day of the debut, the Gilberta Company arrived at the time we had agreed upon and started setting up strange wooden frames. I exchanged a look with Lady Elvira; there hadn’t been any mention of such frames during our meeting.

“Otto, what are those frames?” Lady Elvira asked.

“As this is a tea party first and a debut second, we have designed these frames to allow even those sitting farther away to see the cloth,” he answered.

I’d assumed we would present the cloth as tapestries, or exhibit small parts and allow our guests to come up and touch those that interested them. Lady Elvira seemed to have drawn the same conclusion, but those of the Gilberta Company had something else in mind. They were doing exactly what Lady Rozemyne wanted.

Though we’d gone to the trouble of setting up a meeting, our intentions still weren’t completely aligned. We could remedy that by ordering the merchants to stop and put the frames away—in fact, that would certainly have been our first choice—but this event was being held at Lady Rozemyne’s request, and the current approach was simply the norm for her.

Let us do as she pleases.

With a glance, I signaled my conclusion to Lady Elvira. She heaved a defeated sigh, then said, “It is true that we lack the time for each piece of cloth to be directly presented to each person.”

Again, I was reminded that I wasn’t fully in tune with my lady. Yet each time she said or did something that troubled me, I understood more clearly how she must have felt whenever she encountered something strange to her in the castle.

Despite a few mishaps, our preparations went smoothly. My only complaint was how the wooden frames presented the new cloth. The Gilberta Company was a nouveau-riche business that had expanded its sales to the castle with Lady Rozemyne’s support. Before then, it had dealt only with laynobles and mednobles—which showed in how its merchants were displaying our product.

“They’re doing our wonderful cloth a grave disservice,” I muttered. I’d assisted with popularizing Lady Rozemyne’s trends at the Royal Academy, but this was a much greater task: creating future trends from scratch. I started bombarding the merchants with orders; the cloth needed to be shown at its absolute best.

“It is in our best interest to trust Brunhilde’s noble expertise,” Lady Rozemyne said as I continued to dole out instructions. “Merchants, use this as a learning opportunity.”

A pleasant warmth spread through my chest. My lady trusted my instincts.

I must do everything I can for her.

After lunch, we convened with the merchants to consider introductions and the sale of Lady Rozemyne’s new cloth. As this was but a debut, no product would change hands today. Instead, attendees would state the number assigned to their favorite cloth and then be given the names of the workshop and the dyer that produced it so they could order the cloth themselves when the tea party concluded. I had assumed the Gilberta Company would refuse to share archnoble patronage with other workshops, but I was sorely mistaken.

How strange. One would expect merchants to strive for as many noble connections as they can get.

“We are ready to accept orders from our honorable patron, Lady Rozemyne.”

Lady Elvira was present as we spoke with the Gilberta Company. Lady Aurelia, Lord Lamprecht’s first wife from Ahrensbach, was with her.

“I apologize, but this veil is...”

No matter what Lady Rozemyne or Lady Elvira said, Lady Aurelia refused to remove the Ahrensbach cloth covering her face. It displeased me, to say the least.

Just what purpose does her obstinacy serve?

It was doing her no favors and would only make people more reluctant to accept her. Had she failed to consider Lady Elvira’s position and the problems that taking a bride from Ahrensbach had caused within her faction? Seeing the concern in Lady Elvira’s eyes made me seethe with silent fury.

As my emotions continued to fester, Lady Rozemyne cocked her head at Lady Aurelia and made an unexpected proposal: “If you insist on wearing a veil, perhaps you could wear one made with Ehrenfest cloth. That would at least somewhat demonstrate that you consider our duchy to be your new home.”

I would never have dared to ask the niece of Aub Ahrensbach to cast aside her headdress made with greater-duchy cloth for something made here in Ehrenfest. By all rights, the very idea might be taken as an insult to Ahrensbach. Lady Elvira noted that it certainly would change Aurelia’s appearance, but her intention was to provide the woman a chance to politely refuse.

I expected Lady Aurelia to respond as any noble of a greater duchy would—with outright disapproval—but she accepted the idea almost at once. She sounded relieved, even. I could only assume that she did want to be welcome in our duchy but simply could not bear to uncover her face.

Lady Aurelia had an attendant—she had brought one with her when she married into Ehrenfest—but the girl was nowhere to be seen. Instead, Lady Elvira had paired Lord Lamprecht’s first wife with one of her own attendants for the day. Lady Aurelia could not speak freely in these circumstances, but she at least seemed to recognize that Lady Rozemyne wasn’t her enemy.

From there, Lady Aurelia started to follow Lady Rozemyne. She took care to match my lady’s smaller strides, barely moving at all with each step.

Together with my fellow retainers, I listened to the pair chat about the cloth being debuted. It was quite the experience. At some moments, I had to resist putting my head in my hands; at others, I almost burst into laughter.

Lady Aurelia soon revealed that her veil was embroidered with a magic circle. Under normal circumstances, one would treat such a garment with caution and investigate the threat it posed, but Lady Rozemyne wore a relaxed smile and simply celebrated the circle’s purpose—allowing its wearer to see those around them unimpeded.

That is far from the most pressing issue!

Upon hearing the nice things Lord Lamprecht had said about her, Lady Rozemyne declared that she would provide the cloth for Lady Aurelia’s new veil. I merely exchanged looks with the other retainers. How could we intervene when it was Lady Rozemyne’s intention to welcome Lady Aurelia, who responded to the proposal with timid words of appreciation?

Lady Rozemyne! It should fall to Lamprecht, her husband, to give his wife new cloth!

Lady Aurelia noted that she favored cute cloth but could not use it, for it did not suit her features. Lady Rozemyne replied that the clash was irrelevant; Lady Aurelia’s face would not be visible, in any case.

My lady’s perspective is abnormal, to say the least.

I paid close attention to the numbers by the cloth, making a mental note of which ones Lady Aurelia examined most. I also kept an eye on the pieces that Lady Rozemyne gravitated toward. The two women had surprisingly similar tastes, at least based on the numbers I assigned to them.

This one seems most appropriate for Lady Rozemyne’s winter attire.

Of all the cloth, one piece in particular stood out to me. How it had been dyed was a mystery to me—its hue changed from crimson to more vibrant shades of red—but it was more intriguing than the other frames I’d seen. I recalled the bubble skirt that Lady Rozemyne had favored in the summer; if we elected to make something of the same style, this cloth would be ideal.

After inspecting every one of the displays with Lady Aurelia, Lady Rozemyne suddenly lost all motivation. We had yet to properly debut them, but she slumped her shoulders in disappointment and expressed almost no interest in the cloth from that point on. It was a worrying reaction, considering how much she had been looking forward to today. Perhaps none of the cloth suited her.

Well, the cloth on display is subpar.

Compared to the cloth Rihyarda had arranged in the past, the pieces before me now bore glaring imperfections. I silently questioned the dyers’ talents, but I would need to make do; our guests were soon to arrive, and the success of our tea party would determine the future of dyeing in Ehrenfest.

It is my duty as an attendant to ensure this debut succeeds.

No sooner had the tea party begun than Lady Rozemyne engaged in lively conversation, speaking exclusively about Ahrensbach stories and dishes. By all means, her speaking with Lady Aurelia would make a good impression...

But this is all wrong!

Our very reason for being here was to promote the new cloth, so why had my lady neglected to even mention it? Anyone else in her position would start by focusing on current Ahrensbach trends before segueing into Ehrenfest’s dyes. From there, she could foray into personal tastes, extracting valuable information in the process.

Instead, Lady Rozemyne had launched into a seemingly aimless ramble about her own interests.

Such an indulgent, one-sided conversation would achieve nothing in the way of gathering information. I could see both Lady Elvira and Lady Florencia wearing troubled smiles.

I was more concerned with the debut than the stories being shared, so I entrusted all serving work to Lieseleta and circled the dyed cloth, listening intently to what our guests were saying about it. As expected, this method of debuting our dyes had surprised the archnoble women, but they ultimately embraced it as a new form of entertainment.

“This cloth certainly is beautiful.”

“Indeed, all the shades of red make it a sight to behold.”

Lady Rozemyne had asked the lower city’s dyeing workshops for cloth she could wear for the winter debuts, so their submissions all sported a variety of reds. I saw everything from bitter oranges to the deepest, almost bluish purples. One unusual piece featured a gradient of dark to light red, while another appeared to consist of numerous small dots. The cloth on display was anything but boring.

I was accustomed to cloth dyed a single color without any adornments, so I found it hard to imagine how today’s examples would translate into clothes. That was doubly true for those decorated with floral patterns or adorned with green flora. It was rare for cloth to be multicolor, so those pieces really caught the eye.

“The colors being used are delightfully vivid—though I can see countless imperfections.”

“This style of dyeing only came into fashion this spring. The dyers’ talents might leave much to be desired, but they are bound to improve in short order,” I said, speaking in their defense without a second thought. Lady Rozemyne must have influenced me without my knowing.

“Have you seen cloth dyed in this manner before, Lady Brunhilde?”

“Indeed. Lady Rozemyne wanted her cloth to be unique, so Rihyarda brought her some of an old style.” I pointed at one of the pieces on display. “This looks closest to what she presented.”

An elderly mednoble woman followed my finger with her eyes and smiled. “Oh, I see. That was the fashion back in my mother’s day.”

“Some dyers strive to bring back the old methods, while others hope to create new ones,” I said. “The coloring seen in this sample falls in the latter camp—so if we promote its use, we can produce a style of cloth unique to Ehrenfest.”

Only those with the wealth to support dyers—archnobles and particularly wealthy mednobles, to be precise—had received invitations to this debut. I hoped that as many of the samples as possible would attract their attention.

“If any of the cloth catches your eye, take note of the workshop and dyer to purchase it through your business of choice, or order some from scratch. It is through your support that Ehrenfest will propagate its new trends. Lady Rozemyne wishes for her entire faction to define these styles together.”

“Oh my...”

I went around the room and interacted with the guests as though Lady Rozemyne were speaking through me. They weren’t simply being told what fashions to adopt by those of a higher rank; instead, they were being asked to choose their favorites and play an active role in shaping the duchy’s future trends. Receiving such an invitation from a member of the archducal family would excite them as much as if they themselves had risen in rank.

“Lady Rozemyne has practically made it her motto that all should wear clothes that suit them,” I explained. “From this abundant selection, she hopes you will choose your favorites and those that will complement you best.”

“Has Lady Rozemyne chosen her cloth yet?” one of the noblewomen asked. I sensed that everyone around us was listening closely. Despite her desire for them to focus on their own interests, they still wanted to follow my lady’s example.

“Yes, she chose several pieces while we were preparing today’s event. Lady Aurelia expressed a desire to have a new veil made in Ehrenfest’s style, and the cloth we have here seems perfectly suited to that purpose. Lady Charlotte and Lady Florencia have chosen their favorites as well. You can expect to see them wearing clothes made with that cloth during winter socializing.”

The dyed cloth being debuted was on the cutting edge of Ehrenfest fashion. Even members of the archducal family would end up wearing it. The fact that three of them had chosen favorites from three separate workshops reassured the other noblewomen that they wouldn’t need to mimic the choices of their superiors. They looked around the room with renewed interest.

Having more or less ensured the success of the debut, I returned to my charge. “So, Lady Rozemyne... which cloth is most deserving of a title?”

Three dyers—chosen by Lady Florencia, Lady Rozemyne, and Lady Charlotte, respectively—would each be awarded the title of Renaissance. Lady Rozemyne had several candidates in mind... but she weakly shook her head.

“I cannot decide which of these three to choose.”

“If not one of them is good enough for you, then so be it. There is no need to award a piece you think is unworthy of a title. The dyers had too little time to perfect their work—perhaps we could postpone making a choice?”

Lady Rozemyne thought for a moment, then nodded. “I would appreciate that.” She could give out her title whenever, so it made the most sense to wait until she found some cloth she truly favored.

“You need not hand out a title, but your clothes for this year still need to be made,” I said. “Of your three choices, which would you want to wear most?” I pointed out which one I preferred and mentioned that, in the right hands, it could even be made into attire appropriate for summer.

Lady Rozemyne smiled at me and nodded again. “You have a discerning eye, Brunhilde. Have my clothes made from whichever cloth you think is best.”

It seems that I really am of use to her.

Sometime later, Lady Rozemyne looked devastated. She stated that my eyes were as keen as she had thought and quietly lamented not “giving her the title.” I was unsure to whom she was referring.

I supposed, in the end, that I was still a long way from fully understanding my lady.