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I must have overexerted myself during our tea party, because I ended up bedridden with a fever for a short while afterward. The feeling was actually somewhat nostalgic, which just went to show how much my health had improved. Rihyarda seemed a little unsure about my mindset, though.

“It seems a little odd to celebrate your health while being stuck in bed.”

I decided to leave my report on the tea party to my scholars and instead chilled in bed, reading. The books I was borrowing from Anastasius, Solange, and Hortensia were all within my reach. Existence was bliss amid so many new, unread books.

“I guess this is the part with research about Schwartz and Weiss,” I mused aloud. “Oh, Ferdinand definitely hadn’t read this; his documents didn’t have a part with the Life element.”

As I recalled, the question of whether Life was needed to make Schwartz and Weiss had come up at the Interduchy Tournament, but nobody had managed to decide what manner of magic circles were inside them. This particular one did indeed use Life, but there was a blank space in the circle with a small note written beside it.

“This is the most I am able to solve. The rest I entrust to future generations.”

I noticed that some parts of the research overlapped with Ferdinand’s own findings; if we combined the two, then we would surely make a ton of progress. I needed to inform Ferdinand as soon as possible.

“Lieseleta, I’m going to my hidden room to write a letter and—”

“That can wait until your fever goes down.”

“But it’s urgent... It might lead to us learning how to make tools like Schwartz and Weiss,” I pleaded, desperately trying to appeal to her love of shumils.

Lieseleta froze and muttered, “Making shumils...” It appeared that my victory was assured, but then she sighed and gave me a smile. “Please recuperate first. Whether you write your letter now or later will not change when Raimund receives it, nor will it allow you to begin researching how to make big shumils any sooner. Please return to bed.”

I was pushed back under the covers, leaving me with no choice but to wait. And so, I went back to relaxing and reading—that is, until it occurred to me that Lieseleta was humming a joyful tune on the other side of my bed curtains. It was rare for her to show her emotions so openly during work; she must have been exceptionally pleased to hear that we were about to take a great step forward with our shumil research.

I’m glad that Lieseleta is so excited.

Even after my fever went down, I was forbidden from wandering around freely until my health was fully recovered. The only places I could go to were the dining hall and a particular seat in the common room situated near the fireplace. Personally, I much preferred the thought of staying in my room and reading my new books, but doing that would make it hard for me to stay in contact with my male retainers. To remedy this, I started poking my head into the common room after dinner each day, whereupon I would receive my retainers’ most recent reports.

“Ehrenfest has sent a response,” Roderick said on one such occasion, handing me a board. “Lord Wilfried and Lady Charlotte have seen it already.”

I gave the message a read. “They’ve permitted all of our joint research projects, I see.”

Research in the Royal Academy was left entirely to students, so it was usually approved unless there was some serious limiting factor at play. Our reply from Ehrenfest said that we were free to collaborate with each of the three greater duchies. We couldn’t refuse Dunkelfelger, since a member of the royal family had suggested it, and working with Drewanchel would benefit us as well. I had already been planning to do our joint research project with Ahrensbach, so approval for that was a given.

Also written in our response from Ehrenfest was praise for our decision to give Wilfried’s and Charlotte’s retainers responsibility for the Drewanchel research. It seemed that, since we were doing three joint research projects at once, we would have otherwise been under suspicion of stealing the credit from our subordinates.

“Last of all, Ehrenfest has sent us this paper for research,” Roderick said, indicating stacks of paper made from Illgner’s feyplants.

The boxes in which the paper was being stored only had simple tags such as “nanseb” and “effon” on them, so the scholars weren’t sure what the various kinds actually did. I started explaining the traits of each feyplant while handing the respective sheets to the research teams.

“Nanseb paper, also known as conjoining paper, is what we use for the merchant slips distributed to other duchies. Before said slips are actually handed out, they are dyed the same color as the receiving duchy’s capes—though I should mention that they have a tendency to fuse together to form one large piece. Effon paper is made from a feyplant called an effon, as its name suggests. I expect it has some property that produces sound.”

Ignaz and Marianne were writing down my every word, looking especially focused.

“If you have any questions then please ask them,” I continued. “I should also note that, in order to prevent any sensitive information from leaking to Drewanchel, I am opting to avoid Professor Gundolf’s laboratory. I have already met with him and all that, so if you bring the research ingredients with you, then that should keep him adequately distracted.”

Once I was done with my explanation, Philine held out a different board. “Lady Rozemyne, this is the response regarding Prince Sigiswald and Lady Adolphine’s Starbinding. For the sake of your relationship with the Sovereign Temple and your safety, they have suggested that you once again give a blessing from afar rather than officially acting as the High Bishop.”

“I agree that giving a blessing from the shadows is the ideal approach, but, to be honest, I don’t think I can,” I replied. “In the past, my long-range blessings have come out on their own whenever my feelings run rampant; I’ve never given one consciously.”

I needed to give the first prince a larger blessing than I had given Anastasius and Eglantine, even though I didn’t care about him at all. In fact, I barely even remembered his appearance. The best-case scenario was the prince getting a blessing that was noticeably less generous than that given to Adolphine standing beside him—and the worst-case but very plausible scenario was the prince getting nothing at all.

It would already be hard enough to get out a blessing and ensure that both Sigiswald and Adolphine received it equally; the thought of also needing to time it was terrifying. It was hard to believe that luck would carry me to success. I wanted to at least get some practice in first, but if people realized that there were blessings being sent left, right, and center, then they would no longer be seen as a special miracle of the gods.

I shook my head. “Please tell them that I must be present for the ceremony in order not to fail.” Taking the High Bishop’s position would allow me to see Sigiswald and give the blessing directly. Besides, if people were to see the Sovereign High Bishop in front and the blessing appear from another direction entirely, then it would look like I was picking a fight with him. In my opinion, disrespecting him in front of a huge crowd of nobles was a lot worse than giving the blessing personally at the royal family’s request.

I penned a letter describing Ehrenfest’s concerns, ending with a line that more or less meant: “Prince Anastasius will be responsible for managing our relations with the Sovereign Temple as the one who suggested this. Make sure Ehrenfest does not suffer any more than it has already.” Then, I gave the letter to Brunhilde.

“Hand this to Professor Eglantine, if you would.”

The matter of the Starbinding aside, I had also requested consultation on the Library Committee’s work being changed to managing keys—though the most Ehrenfest could really do was obediently follow the orders of the royal family. I could tell that Sylvester was thinking: “I don’t really understand the implications, so just roll with it.”

“For now, it seems safe to keep avoiding the royal family outside of summons,” I said.

“Furthermore, as per your request, the second volume of The Story of Fernestine is being printed without delay.”

As it turned out, the script had been sent to the temple alongside the feystones needed for the Dedication Ritual. I sighed in relief. Once the copies arrived here at the Royal Academy, people would surely understand that Fernestine was nothing like me at all.

The next day, Muriella and Gretia came with their name-swearing stones. I accepted them in a separate room. This time, as I was taking the names of two girls, only my female guard knights and such were accompanying me.

“Leonore, will this do?” I asked. “If so, summon them both here.”

“I see no problems to report, Lady Rozemyne. Philine, allow Muriella to enter first.”

Philine brought in Muriella, whose name I promptly accepted. I channeled my mana into and transformed the stone all at once in an attempt to minimize the pain she felt, but she still appeared to suffer quite a bit.

“Are you well, Muriella?”

“I’m quite fine. The pain lingers, but it is nothing compared to the joy I feel. My resolve to give my name allowed me to attend a tea party with Dunkelfelger and hear Lady Hannelore’s thoughts firsthand.”

“Her thoughts...?”

“I agreed completely, absolutely, and positively with her thoughts on the love story—so much so that I could easily have spent an entire night in discussion with her. Aah, it fills me with such great happiness to know that someone enjoys the same book in the same way that I do...” Muriella sighed sweetly, the sparkle in her green eyes growing brighter by the moment. Her breathing was heavy—in large part because she was still enduring the pain from being bound with my mana, but also doubtless because her heart was racing in excitement. The sight reminded me a lot more of Elvira than Hannelore.

Muriella seems really compatible with Mother—as you would expect, considering that she wanted to give Mother her name.

“Lady Rozemyne,” Muriella continued, “I wish to pour my heart and soul into gathering love stories here at the Royal Academy and gifting them to you and Lady Elvira.”

“Gathering stories is Philine’s job,” I said, putting a stopper on Muriella before she could recreate Elvira’s rampage for love stories. “You must first learn about the printing and paper-making industries. After all, you will need to be able to work as Mother’s subordinate when you return from the Royal Academy.”

Muriella’s eyelashes fluttered a few times in surprise, then her expression turned diligent, and she gave a firm nod. “Understood.”

Yeah, there’s no two ways about it—she’ll be so much better as Mother’s subordinate.

“Philine, teach Muriella about the printing and paper-making industries,” I said. “In fact, while you are at it, teach her how to write reports as well. Once things have settled down, then you may teach her your methods for gathering stories and start working in tandem.”

Now that Muriella was the apprentice scholar of an archduke candidate, she needed to be able to write reports that Ferdinand would approve of. Philine had already received more than two years of instruction from him and Hartmut, so she was more used to the process than Roderick, a newbie.

“Muriella, you should know that the hierarchy among my retainers is not based on status,” I said. “Leonore, an archnoble, takes the lead here in the Royal Academy, but my guard knights in the castle are primarily overseen by Damuel, a laynoble. Similarly, although Philine is of a lower status than Roderick, I am entrusting her with your training due to her experience and precision. This is likely very different from what you have been taught to expect, but it is how I do things. You will need to grow used to it.”

“Understood.”

I motioned for Philine to leave with and start teaching Muriella, then had Lieseleta summon Gretia, whose name I also proceeded to accept. Gretia should have suffered just as much during the name-swearing process, but she bore it all with a simple grimace. By the time it was over, she had made nary a grunt.

“Did that not hurt?” I asked. “Are you feeling okay?”

Gretia brushed her forelocks away from her blue-green eyes, which I could now see were crinkled in a smile. “I thank you ever so much for your concern, but this much is nothing. I shall do my utmost to maintain a comfortable space for you who so graciously accepted my name.”

“I look forward to it. Lieseleta will instruct you in matters related to my chambers such that you can do just that.”

Brunhilde was busy with stuff related to the top-ranking duchies, so Lieseleta was going to be getting Gretia up to speed. She would teach her how to brew my preferred tea and many other intricate details for managing my room. Furthermore, although Gretia wouldn’t need to engage in any actual negotiations, she was expected to work in the shadows during our tea parties with top-ranking duchies. Lieseleta was going to explain that to her as well.