Roderick’s Wish

Roderick’s Wish

Roderick’s Wish

That afternoon, I had plenty of spare time on my hands, thanks to having already completed my written lessons. I saw the first-years off to the Farthest Hall and then began studying for the scholar course with Philine and Roderick, using the third-years’ study guides as a base. Judithe was serving as my guard, since she had also completed her written classes, while the other second-years were studying for their respective courses or working on their practical techniques with Wilfried.

“What will you two do once the second-year classes are over?” I asked Philine and Roderick when we reached a natural pause in our work.

“My practical lessons will take much longer than yours, Lady Rozemyne, but once I’ve finished them, I am hoping to gather stories from other duchies,” Philine said. She now had a better understanding of what questions to ask, and she had mostly overcome her fear of speaking to new people after spending so much time in the castle and the temple. Her grass-green eyes sparkled as she pictured getting even more stories than last year.

“That is nice to hear. I very much look forward to your efforts,” I replied. “And you, Roderick?”

Roderick slowly looked up from his studies, set down his pen, and then tightly clasped his hands atop the table. “There is something I must talk to you about, Lady Rozemyne. May I have a moment of your time when you are next able?” he asked. His dark-brown eyes were drawn but resolved, much like when he had declared that he would give me his name.

I tensed up without thinking and swallowed hard. I had once thought of taking Roderick as a retainer, and my future would change dramatically based on whether I had the resolve to accept his name.

“Milady, I ask that you first settle your heart well,” Rihyarda said quietly. I turned and saw that she was wearing a gentle smile. “Giving one’s name is of great importance, but accepting a name is equally consequential. Your feelings on the matter are vital.”

She must have come to the same conclusion as me upon seeing Roderick’s resolved expression. I nodded to her sage advice, but Roderick shook his head. “I do not intend to give my name at the moment,” he assured me. “I simply wish to talk.”

“About what, then?” I asked, unable to think of anything but the name-swearing. Roderick must have seen my confusion, as his eyes wandered about the room in apparent contemplation.

“I wanted to speak of why I wish to give my name and my thoughts on various matters,” he said after a pause. “One of your retainers told me that, unless we have this conversation, you will not be able to decide whether to accept my name.”

I instinctively looked over at Judithe and Philine, the former of whom paused for a moment and then whispered, “That would be Hartmut.” It seemed that he was acting in the shadows again. Either way, it was still important for me to hear Roderick out.

“Rihyarda, prepare a room,” I said.

“As you wish, milady.”

“I would rather speak to you alone, Roderick, but I will need to bring my guards and attendants. Do forgive me.”

“I understand that I warrant suspicion as a member of another faction,” he replied.

While Rihyarda was off securing a room, I glanced down and started organizing the papers I had been studying from. My nervousness must have transferred to Philine, as she likewise began tidying up while glancing between Roderick and me.

I made my way to the room Rihyarda had prepared with Judithe as my guard and Philine as my scholar. Upon our arrival, I took the seat opposite Roderick and looked at him head-on. “What did you wish to speak of, Roderick?” I asked.

He stared at the floor for a moment and then looked at Philine, Judithe, and Rihyarda in turn. Eventually, his eyes settled on me. “Lord Matthias implored me to think carefully, and after doing so, I still wish to give you my name,” he said. “Naturally, that is only if you wish to accept it. I know that you presently do not wish to accept any name. I have been told that I will only be a burden to you as a name-sworn.”

I nodded in response, now even more certain that it was Hartmut he had spoken to.

“But I was also told that I should do my best to put my feelings into words,” he continued. “This is my only opportunity to speak with you, here in the Royal Academy, so... I was hoping we could talk.” He was speaking quietly and seemed to be choosing his words carefully. It was a stark contrast to his attitude the first time we had met.

Back then, he had come across as especially rowdy. Like a troublemaker.

Roderick had clearly been friends with Wilfried; I still remembered our first year in the winter playroom, when they would run around and play together. He was one of the kids who had thrown snowballs at me, and when borrowing teaching materials, I seemed to recall him picking karuta and playing cards over picture books. I could imagine the Ivory Tower incident had dramatically changed his life.

“I had such an incredible time during my first winter playroom,” Roderick began.

In the winter playroom, there had been toys the likes of which he had never seen before and sweets that were given out as rewards, regardless of one’s status. It was a study environment that allowed the children to compare themselves with their peers, and toys could be borrowed in exchange for new stories rather than money.

“At first, I was only interested in karuta,” Roderick continued. “Winning at karuta or playing cards was the only way for me to taste those delicious sweets, so I started to tell a story to you in hopes that I might be able to borrow them to practice more. Halfway through my story, however, I lost track of the plot entirely. I began searching for ways to conclude it and just continued making things up as I went along.”

“I recall. It was quite an amusing story, full of innocent ideas...” I said with a giggle, thinking back on how his eyes had desperately wandered all over the room as he thought the plot up on the spot.

“I was glad that you enjoyed the story and got carried away with making another, this time for the playing cards. I wanted to borrow them again the next year, so I asked my parents to tell me a number of stories over the spring. I truly looked forward to the next winter playroom.”

Roderick had also been excited for the autumn hunting tournament, when children would gather to play games before the winter playroom. It was then that, at the encouragement of some adults, they had started on their quest to find the Ivory Tower.

“We never got lost thanks to the guiding marks on the trees, but my father said that only the archducal family was allowed to enter the tower itself. I had no idea that our little adventure would end the way it did; I was just thrilled to be exploring the forest I wasn’t usually allowed to enter.”

Wilfried was charged with a crime for entering the Ivory Tower, as were the nobles who had prompted him. He had received only a light punishment in the end, so the nobles had received only a moderate punishment in turn, but Roderick’s life had changed dramatically nonetheless.

“As the son of a second wife, I was not treated very highly to begin with,” Roderick explained. “My age and sex afforded me a lot of chances to meet with Lord Wilfried, and in my father’s eyes, that was my only virtue. At times when I was close with Lord Wilfried, my father would smile and treat me warmly, but his smile vanished when I was distanced. It was as though he had become an entirely different person. I started to despair as he criticized my every failure—after all, he was the one who had pushed me to go on the adventure to begin with.”

Roderick’s father had wanted to have the option to enter either faction, but now he could no longer approach the archducal family. His contempt only intensified once word of my mana compression method started to spread.

“My days at home were spent in misery, and my heart sank deeper knowing that the winter playroom I was looking forward to was no longer somewhere I could freely spend time with friends. In the end, I spent my time reading books. Being alone was more bearable than trying to play games with others and enduring all the judgmental eyes on me.”

My only knowledge of what had happened in the winter playroom during my long slumber had come from Wilfried and Charlotte. Now that I had another perspective, it seemed that things had been quite harsh for the children of the former Veronica faction.

“That was when one of your guard knights handed me a book newly made for the winter playroom,” Roderick went on. “I was informed that you would have shown it to me yourself, had you not been attacked and forced into your slumber. And inside... was the story I told you.”

His eyes suddenly grew distant and teary. At the time, he had felt as though he no longer had a place in the playroom. My book had given him somewhere to retreat to.

“I was so happy,” he said firmly, his fists clenched. “I read it over and over and over again, and soon enough, I realized that my ramblings had been edited to properly function as a story. From that point onward, I started to focus more on the language of everything I read. I am now much better at constructing sentences, although I am still far from perfect...”

Rather than focusing on playing games in the winter playroom, Roderick had read the knight stories and picture book bibles, come up with new tales based on the ones Philine had gathered, and rewritten his own collected stories. It must have proven quite difficult for him, considering the lack of reading material available to him.

“I believe your efforts bore the most bountiful fruit,” I said. “The stories you brought to the Royal Academy last year were extremely well-written.”

“You praise the efforts of all, no matter their faction,” Roderick noted. “You also purchased the stories I wrote last year. On that day, I realized just how much I wished to serve you, but I was instead met with suspicion. As it stands, I am a member of the former Veronica faction who committed an unforgivable error—one that harmed the person to whom you are now engaged. I could leave my faction immediately upon coming of age and I still would not be trusted. Securing a position in your service was an unattainable dream.”

Roderick looked away from us and down at his clasped hands before forcing himself to continue. “I could not become a retainer, but Philine could. She was doing the same things as me, but she still achieved what I could not, despite only being a laynoble. I was overcome with envy and resented that I was not in your faction.”

Upon hearing this, Philine apologetically looked down at the floor. Her expression was clouded with empathy.

“I had come to accept that I would never be your retainer, Lady Rozemyne, but then Aub Ehrenfest restored my hopes. He told me that I could earn the trust I require by giving my name to you,” Roderick explained. He then looked me in the eyes and said in complete earnest: “If giving my name to you will make me trustworthy then I shall do it. Philine swore her loyalty after gathering stories, and I too wish to do the same.”