Chapter Text
While Ferdinand’s boot camp was underway in Ahrensbach, a different kind of boot camp was taking place in Ehrenfest—Rozemyne's boot camp.
Sylvester, ever eager to see Rozemyne take part in social duties in place of the pregnant Florencia, had his suggestion promptly rejected by Ferdinand and even scolded by Charlotte, shrinking into a smaller figure than usual. Then, when Sylvester suggested that Ferdinand handle the social duties instead, Rozemyne immediately shut him down, and Charlotte scolded him again, making him shrink further.
Ferdinand, usually indulgent toward Sylvester, would have tapped his temple and offered a compromise to smooth things over, but now that Ferdinand had gone to Ahrensbach, Slyvester had no reliable younger brother to rely on. And Rosemine, experienced as an Aub in her own right, was no pushover.
“Adoptive Father, this is Aub-level work. It must be handled by the Aub personally. However, while it looks like Aub work at first glance, most of it can be done by scholars. These wooden tabs only require your final confirmation and signature,” Rosemine explained, gesturing to the piles.
“Um… I see.”
“First, let’s sort them properly. The scholars have already been trained by Ferdinand-sama, so if you can sort them efficiently, even these massive stacks will be done in a single day.”
“Just one day!?”
Rosemine pointed to the two separate stacks of wooden tabs, carefully explaining. These were tabs that could be shown outside the Aub's office, excluding any confidential matters. The lower pile contained items Sylvester had to personally handle, while the higher stacks were tasks that could be done by anyone, not necessarily the Aub.
“Can it really be reduced this much?”
“Yes. Of course, you must trust capable scholars. I’ve already purged untrustworthy ones, so the scholars currently in the castle are fine. With this amount, I believe you can handle it without difficulty.”
“I see…” Sylvester nodded, forcing a smile at his adopted daughter, whose eyes sparkled with that unyielding resolve inherited from her younger brother, and began tackling the wooden slips.
“Adoptive Father, for future work, I recommend appointing capable scholars regardless of rank for tasks that don’t require magic. Most of my retainers are mid- or lower-level, yet they perform more than adequately.”
Indeed, Rosemine’s retainers, though not of high rank, worked efficiently. Considering that most castle positions were held by archnobles, a sudden shift would be difficult. Still, Sylvester began to understand, and he set about the work.
“Please provide the list of scholars to train. I want to observe their interactions with merchants firsthand. Also, Adoptive Father, please call Wilfried and Charlotte into the office so we can work together.”
“But they are still minors.”
“I am also a minor, Adoptive Father. Wilfried is in the same school year as me, and I was already handling work at Charlotte’s age. If you do not intend to put them away from duties in Ehrenfest, they must learn early.”
Sylvester hesitated but agreed. From that day, Wilfried, Charlotte, and their retainers began working in the office. Wilfried tackled tasks at his own pace, while Charlotte threw herself into the work enthusiastically. Surrounded by his children, Sylvester could no longer escape.
“Rozemyne, isn’t this a bit too harsh?” he asked.
“Oh, Adoptive Father, I once did more than twice this amount without complaint. I’ve even had additional tasks piled on.”
“Um… true.”
“Education isn’t just about pampering without action. And, I think I’m far gentler than Ferdinand-sama would be.”
Hearing this, Wilfried and Charlotte shivered slightly at the thought of Ferdinand’s training.
“While I work, isn’t it unfair that Wilfried gets to read books?” Charlotte pouted.
“I’m not reading books!” Wilfried protested.
“You should read a bit more, Brother.”
“Charlotte…”
Had Ferdinand been here, he would have scolded, “Stop talking and move your hands!” Rozmyne allowed it this time. Strictness without engagement serves no purpose.
“I will accompany the clerks to meet the merchants. Hartmut, are preparations ready?”
“Yes, no problem.”
“Adoptive Father, if you have free time, would you like to come along?”
“Do I look free to you? Haven’t you noticed these mountains of slips!?”
The merchants led by Benno, summoned to the castle instead of the temple, were already uneasy at the prospect of visiting the lord’s residence. Surrounded by a crowd of scholars, their stomachs churned with nerves. It was like standing in front of the many stern Zantze, only worse—here, the lord himself was present. Why did the lord have to attend negotiations with commoners?
Rozemyne, smiling serenely, sat gracefully at the table.
“Benno, I apologize for calling you here today. It’s crucial to train scholars capable of negotiating with commoners. That’s why they are observing these talks. It may feel constrained, surrounded by nobles, but please proceed as usual.”
Benno clenched his fists inwardly, thinking, This brat!, but said with a bow, “It is an honor if I can be of reference.” Of course, he could not proceed ‘as usual.’ Internally, he grumbled, I will remember this, yet there was no way to say that to the adoptive lord’s daughter, especially while surrounded by multiple nobles and with the lord sitting beside her. Any sign of disrespect would be fatal.
Benno couldn’t help noticing something slightly different about her. As a noble, she had learned to maintain composure, but there was a dignity here he hadn’t felt before. Yet, of course, this was Myne. He’d long since accepted that whatever he felt was simply her way.
After the usual greetings, the meeting began. The unusual sight of commoners sitting alongside Rozemyne at the same table, with nobles standing along the walls observing, struck the schola as incredible.
“So, would thirty days be acceptable for this delivery?” Rosemine asked.
“That will be difficult,” Benno replied.
“Why not?”
“The craftsmen capable of this are limited. They are currently working on orders from other territories. To maintain quality, we need a bit more time.”
“I understand. Then please discuss with the craftsmen and let us know the revised deadline.”
“Yes, of course.”
Rozemyne
carefully listened to each discussion and adopted the merchants’ suggestions where necessary. To her, this was normal, but to the scholars, it was astonishing. A lord’s orders typically end with a command. Here, Rozemyne considered the workers’ opinions and even deferred her own requests when needed, earning their trust.
After the merchants left, Rozemyne held a study session with the scholars.
“Benno mentioned that the craftsmen are working on orders from other territories. Delaying them would damage Ehrenfest’s credibility,” she explained.
“You could just have them finish both orders by the deadline,” a clerk suggested.
“Would you be able to complete mountains of additional tabs perfectly, without rest or food, just because someone demanded it? Could you guarantee flawless work?”
“…No.”
“The same applies to commoners. Pushing them to exhaustion will lead to mistakes and declining quality. But if we listen to them and offer benefits, they will produce even better work. Long-term, which approach benefits everyone most, do you think?”
The scholars exchanged looks of surprise, curiosity, and understanding. Rozemyne needed them to absorb this lesson before she moved on.
“Let’s do our best, everyone—scholars, and Adoptive Father,” she said, smiling brightly. The scholars’ faces fell at the same time, drained but determined.
Meanwhile, Benno slumped in the carriage, utterly spent.
“Sir, you look dreadful.”
“Can you blame me? How did it come to this?”
“It’s Rozemyne-sama. This is the fate of anyone who decides to get involved.”
“Ah, enough already!”
Little did Benno know that a later request to hasten Ferdinand’s return to Ahrensbach would make his life even more chaotic.
By the time Ferdinand had been traveling back and forth between Ehrenfest and Ahrensbach, Sigiswald had been shuttling between the sovereign territories and Ahrensbach, and Eglantine had safely delivered her daughter—Anastasius was completely giddy—the winter session of the Royal Academy began once more.
At the reception table, Anastasius and Hildebrand sat side by side in the royal seats. Last year, Eglantine had been present here as the teacher for the lord-candidate course, but this year, Magdalena took her place.
“The threads of the Goddess of Time, Dregarnuhr, have intertwined once more, allowing us to be present here today,” Anastasius intoned formally.
The three lord-candidates from Ehrenfest approached, and Wilfried stepped forward to represent them, delivering his greeting. Hildebrandt responded with a neutral, “We have high expectations for Ehrenfest this year as well.”
When Rozemyne lifted her gaze, Hildebrand's heart skipped a beat. Returning from last year’s garden gathering, she now looked her age, and somehow a little more mature than before.
“Magdalena-sama is the teacher for the lord-candidate course this year?” Hildebrand asked, curious.
“No,” Anastasius corrected. “Magdalena-sama will teach the newly mandatory course in Old Language. I will handle the lord-candidate course.”
In their previous life, the royal family had no time to spare, and Eglantine had been forced to teach immediately after giving birth. This time, she was able to take a proper rest. Magdalena would handle Old Language this year, but a different teacher would take over next year.
“Thank you, Anastasius-sensei, Magdalena-sensei. By the way, Prince Anastasius…”
“Yes?”
“You seem to be… smiling rather mischievously.”
Anastasius straightened his back, and both Magdalena and Hildebrand stifled quiet chuckles.
As Rosemine stepped down from the royal seats to greet the higher-ranking territories, countless eyes followed her. Though her talismans were hidden beneath her clothes, and she was no longer unusually small as she had been at the start of her studies, many were drawn simply by her presence and beauty.
Even during lunch after the greetings, every movement of Rosemine attracted attention. At the royal table, the three of them quietly observed her.
“Brother Anastasius, look at how everyone’s watching Rozemyne,” Hildebrand whispered.
“Ah… they’re all practically drooling. Do they not realize how dangerous it would be to make a move?”
“After last year’s Dunkelfelger–Ditter incident, they probably won’t try.”
“I hope not. I don’t want to deal with it. Hildebrand, you too—stay back, alright?”
“Of course. If Rozemyne were nearby, my heart wouldn’t survive in more ways than one. It’s better to watch from a distance.”
Hildebrand's gaze lingered on Rozemybe as though she were an idol. Anastasius felt as if his younger brother existed in a completely different world.
“And besides… the other party is Ferdinand. Ferdinand is incredible,” Hildebrand continued, eyes shining.
“Eh?”
Anastasius recalled the countless times Rosemine herself had exclaimed in their previous life, “Ferdinand is amazing!” He had never expected to hear the same words from his younger brother.
“His work is efficient, flawless, and as a knight, he is strong. I haven’t seen it myself, but I hear he is also excellent at Harspiel and dance,” Hildebrand continued, practically sparkling with excitement. “I want to see Ferdinand and Rozemyne standing side by side—it would be beautiful.”
Anastasius stared blankly, while Magdalena pressed a hand to her forehead, unsure whether to laugh or groan.
“We went to Ahrensbach at Prince Sigiswald’s request to assist there. It was meant to help with Hildebrand's education, and the Zent approved it. But seeing Ferdinand at work—how he handled mountains of wooden tabs beside Sigiswald, delegating tasks to subordinates perfectly, and training knights—I think Hildebrand became utterly enamored. Hearing about Ferdinand’s accomplishments from contemporaries among Ahrensbach scholar and knights cemented it.”
“The tabs Ferdinand gave me always pushed me to my limits. More would keep coming, and it was tough, but I could feel myself growing. I wanted to learn even more from him,” Hildebrand admitted, eyes sparkling.
“Seriously? I would never want that,” Anastasius muttered.
“Seeing how Rozemyne must have been trained… I understand now why it was so hard. But when she was handed the wooden tabs and told, ‘Go ahead,’ well… I can only imagine,” Hildebrandt finished, still glowing with admiration.
Anastasius quietly turned his gaze away from his brother. Magdalena could only stand by, unsure how to respond.
“Because Hildebrand kept following Ferdinand everywhere, Ferdinand himself complained to me that, as a mother, I should intervene,” Magdalena said, sighing.
“That sounds… exhausting.”
“Hildebrand even said to me, ‘Mother, don’t you understand how amazing Ferdinand is?’”
Magdalena buried her face in her hands. Have I failed at educating him again? she thought, and Anastasius had no words to console her.
As expected, Rozemyne breezed through her lectures, completing every task with astonishing speed. The students of Ehrenfest, in contrast, wore grim expressions while turning in remarkably good results. Since this year was to be Rozemyne's last as a student of Ehrenfest, she seemed especially eager, leaving Wilfried and Charlotte—the ones tasked with keeping her in check—looking somewhat pitiful.
The lectures for the lord-candidates began in the small hall, where Rozemyne joined the other candidates this year. Last year, she had taken separate exams due to her time in the Garden of Beginnings, but now she was gathered with everyone else. Anastasius stood at the podium, distributing miniature models of the territories, signaling the start of practical exercises.
“First, recolor the miniature garden, then create the supply chamber and register the magic stones. Next, transform the magic stones into gold powder… and begin.”
As the other students concentrated, channeling their magic into their models, Rozemyne's model was already completed, ready to move to the next step. She held the mana stone, which quietly transformed into gold powder without the slightest strain, leaving her classmates wide-eyed.
With an almost hum-like serenity, she sketched her designs, muttering “Stylo,” and began tracing the magic circle. She built the supply chamber, linked the magical tools, and connected the supply stones seamlessly.
Even considering the slight acceleration from the temple’s review of rituals, Rozemyne speed was extraordinary. Anastasius approached her cautiously, whispering, “You’re… too fast.”
“Oh, but Prince Anastasius, I cannot afford to go slowly. I must return to my territory for the dedicatio ceremony, and above all, I still need time to read,” Rozemyne replied lightly.
“You should at least pace yourself with the others. They’ll lose confidence… including me,” he sighed. Anastasius forced a smile, trying to reassure the other students, “It’s fine to use Rozemyne as a model, but don’t worry if you can’t keep up.”
Rozemyne, nearly done with her model, furrowed her brows in thought.
“Is something the matter?” Anastasius asked.
“Prince Anastasius… no, teacher,” she corrected.
“I was wondering if it would be possible to increase the number of mana stones registered to enter the supply chamber?”
Only seven people could enter the supply chamber, and she was suggesting an increase.
“That’s based on the number of the Supreme Gods and the five great deities—”
“I know, but without registering the stones in the supply chamber, they can’t enter the underground library, right? Seven is fine for the actual users, but I thought it might be alright to register a few extra for safety.”
As she spoke, her hands moved over the Shtarp with effortless precision, yet the motions were complex.
“Oh, this might work…” she muttered.
“Wait, wait, stop—” Anastasius warned.
“Ah! I failed… I thought it was just a little more.”
Hearing that even Rosemine could fail made Anastasius breathe a small sigh of relief.
“Isn’t it dangerous if anyone could increase them at will?” he asked.
“I won’t increase them that much. I heard that during the winter, stones registered for the students’ supply chamber can be removed, so I just wanted to ensure access to the underground library.”
“You don’t have many members of the lord family in your territory, do you?” he asked.
“That’s true, but…”
Wherever “your territory” referred to—Ehrenfest or Alexandria—seven was surely sufficient in either place.
“Oh, if I add this symbol here, it might work?” Rosemine suggested.
“Don’t do it!” Anastasius snapped.
“Eh? Why not?”
“Not without consulting Ferdinand first.”
“I suppose he’d scold me… then I’ll leave it.”
“If you think he’d scold you, then don’t even try!”
In their excitement, they had nearly forgotten the lecture, drawing curious glances from the students. Some stared in awe, while many struggled to hide their laughter.
“Thanks to Rozemyne, my authority is gone,” Anastasius muttered bitterly.
“Oh, I think it’s far better to be seen as a friendly teacher rather than an arrogant royal who only flaunts opinion and power,” Rosemine replied cheerfully.
Nearby, Hannelore chuckled, whispering, “You two are quite close.” Anastasius quietly moved closer to Wilfried.
“Wilfried, don’t tell anyone, alright?”
“Of course not. I’d hate to see uncle’s mood sour too,” Wilfried replied.
With no retainers present, Ferdinand would never hear that Anastasius and Rosemine had been speaking so amicably during the lecture—though Anastasius was only performing his role as teacher.
By the end of the day, Rosemine had already completed the next session’s material, finishing far ahead of everyone else.
At the annual dedication ceremony held at the Royal Academy, Rozemyne was absent. The main purpose of the ceremony was to replenish the kingdom’s deficient royal magic, though officially it was to teach divine rites. For Rozemyne, there was no need to learn the rituals, as she had returned to Ehrenfest to participate in the local dedication ceremony.
Ferdinand would attend the ceremony in Ahrensbach, where the temple had been in disarray and was undergoing reforms.
“This year, Ferdinand won’t be present, so things will be difficult. Next year, I will also be absent, so I must prepare while I still can,” Rozemyne said as she returned to her territory with Wilfried.
To ensure the lord-candidates were not absent, Wilfried returned to the Royal Academy for the ceremony, while Charlotte stayed to participate in the local ceremony after its conclusion.
The ceremony, led by Anastasius as temple head, concluded without issue. While helping clean up, Anastasius noticed Wilfried’s ashen face.
“What’s wrong, Wilfried? Have you taken your restorative potion?”
“I did. The Royal Academy’s dedication ceremony is beautiful, and it doesn’t drain much magic. But…”
Wilfried looked utterly drained, lacking the usual vitality of youth. Anastasius guessed that the students’ ceremony at Ehrenfest had extracted plenty of magic.
“Rosemine told me that dedicating one’s territory’s mana is a natural duty for members of the lord family. She said two restorative potions a day are fine, so I kept offering, taking potions, resting, offering again… it was harsh,” Wilfried explained, staring up at the altar with relief at being back at the academy.
Charlotte, who would soon return to the territory, changed her expression at the sight of her brother. Seeing both of them, Anastasius said, “You’ve done enough. Go rest.”
As Wilfried and Charlotte exchanged nervous smiles and encouragements, Anastasius quietly wished for happiness for Ehrenfest, watching their departing figures.
At the beginning of spring, Rozemyne, having finished her fourth year as the top student, moved from Ehrenfest to Ahrensbach, accompanied by her retainers.
Returning to the office after overseeing the recoloring of the foundation, she remarked in an unsettling tone, “I’m not sure if it actually recolored properly, but I filled it to the maximum just in case.”
Ferdinand responded casually, “I see,” but Sigiswald didn’t miss the words.
“What do you mean, it didn’t recolor?” he asked.
“How do you mean?” Ferdinand replied lightly.
“There… well…” Sigiswald faltered. Having served as an Aub in Korinthsdaum in a previous life, he knew the labor involved in recoloring and the reactions that should follow. Ferdinand had mentioned that he had temporarily stopped supplying, leaving little residual magic. That Rosemine had filled it to the brim in such a short time was remarkable enough—but now she claimed she couldn’t even tell if it had worked?
“Something’s happening, isn’t it?” Sigiswald thought.
Ferdinand smiled faintly at him, and Sigiswald fell silent. He had learned something during his stay in Ahrensbach: never meddle unnecessarily. Any attempt to argue would only increase the stack of wooden tablets, and he would be no match for Ferdinand in words.
As the Archduke's Conference drew near, the great hall filled with Ahrensbach nobles, all gathered for the foundation ceremony of Alexandria.
The officials first recounted the invasion of Ehrenfest by Georgine, a member of Ahrensbach's former ruling family, and revealed the numerous crimes uncovered during the investigation. The dissolution of Ahrensbach was now inevitable.
Thanks to prior arrangements, there was no chaos, yet many nobles slumped in despair at the loss of the land they had served so long. Simultaneously, they paled at the enormity of the crimes and the consequences that would befall them.
Rozemyne then stepped onto the platform, announcing that she would guide this land as Alexandria. Unlike in the previous timeline, she was no divine incarnation who had healed the land torn apart by the war with Lanzenawe. Therefore, many nobles regarded the sudden appearance of this young girl as Aub with sharp, skeptical eyes.
Still, Rozemyne smiled gently. Familiar faces—alongside nobles who, in the past life, had never survived the Lanzenawe campaign—looked on. Those she could not save before now stood before her.
Sigiswald’s role was to show that these arrangements and appointments were sanctioned by the king’s authority. Officially, they would be confirmed at the Archduke's conference in a few days, but nothing would overturn them.
“As representatives of the royal family, we recognize the dissolution of Ahrensbach and the foundation of Alexandria, with Rozemyne appointed as the first Aub,” he announced.
He continued, outlining matters already decided: Rozemyne and Ferdinand’s engagement was to be treated as a royal command; as Rozemyne was still a minor, Ferdinand would act as her Aub proxy in her absence; and the former Ahrensbach lands of Werkestock would fall under royal management.
Rosemine followed with her inaugural speech, detailing her plans. In the previous timeline, she had hastily restored areas destroyed in Entwickeln, but this time, with no destruction, some developments remained undone. She seemed displeased that the library had yet to be built but promised it would be completed during summer in Entwickeln. As she spoke with sparkling eyes, Ferdinand tried to rein her in, gripping her reins like a wary rider, and Sigiswald struggled to maintain a composed, royal expression.
“Let us build Alexandria together into a magnificent city of libraries!” Rosemine concluded.
The nobles gawked, astonished at the audacity of the young girl’s vision. Sigiswald understood their feelings well, and inwardly, he sent his support to the people of Alexandria.
“Pray to the gods!”
Almost all the nobles raised their hands in unison, offering their prayers. Rozemyne's blessings shimmered brightly throughout the great hall, and the new territory of Alexandria officially began.
“Prince Sigiswald, thank you for your tireless efforts for Alexandria,” a noble said.
With his role as Aub’s proxy concluded, Sigiswald would return to the central government to prepare as the next Zent. Though his responsibilities would grow, he felt an inexplicable sense of relief.
“Please visit again anytime,” Rozemyne said cheerfully.
“No, I won’t come back,” he replied.
“Don’t say that. You must see how Entwikkeln’s cityscape has changed,” she insisted.
“Prince Hildebrand was interested, so I’ll leave it to him,” Sigiswald replied.
Standing beside Rozemyne at the transfer circle, Ferdinand smiled at Sigiswald.
“Did something happen between you two?” she asked.
“Nothing at all,” Ferdinand answered.
Their sparkling smiles met, and Rosemine tilted her head in puzzlement, wondering when they had become so close.
“Until we meet again at the lord assembly,” Sigiswald said.
Worn from the long ceremony, he boarded the transfer circle with a serene smile and light, feather-like steps, disappearing from sight.