“Anastasius and Prince Hildebrand do not have divine protections from all of the primary gods, meaning they cannot ascend the altar with Lady Rozemyne. They had to be excluded from the start.”
Anastasius and Hildebrand grimaced with regret; not being able to climb the altar had proven fatal to their chances of taking the throne. They had not been born omni-elemental, and there was no time for them to circle the shrines and pray until they obtained all the divine protections they needed.
“Though, in Anastasius’s case, that was because he spent so much time helping Prince Sigiswald obtain his protections, hoping to prove that he had no intention of stealing the throne.” Eglantine gave her husband a consoling smile, then turned to Ferdinand. “If Lord Ferdinand had wanted to be the Zent, whether he had the Grutrissheit or not, I would not have volunteered. I see no merit in war—especially one waged against a man the divine avatar loves.”
Wait, what? “Loves”? Someone’s jumping to conclusions.
I glanced at Ferdinand, debating whether I should interrupt Eglantine’s teasing smile to correct her. His eyebrows were low over his eyes. On the surface, it seemed to be his usual stony countenance, but I could tell it was the face he pulled when he was genuinely displeased. Correcting her would probably be ideal.
“Lady Eglantine,” I said, “Ferdinand is like family to me. If you think there are romantic feelings between us, then you are mistaken. He might be willing to endure a political marriage or the like, but he would never accept romantic love in the sense you mean.”
Everyone stared at me, at a complete loss for words. Their eyes practically screamed, “Are you being serious right now?”
“Umm...”
It suddenly felt like everyone knew something I didn’t.
“I’m right, aren’t I, Ferdinand?!” I exclaimed, reaching out and pulling on his sleeve. “Let us dispel these misconceptions together!”
Ferdinand endured several aggressive tugs before a displeased grimace appeared on his face. It made no sense; he had taught me that letting a misunderstanding fester was the same as supporting it, so one had to intervene even when it was tedious.
“Oho. Is she right?” Sylvester asked.
“And why are you getting involved...?” Ferdinand replied.
“As your elder brother and her adoptive father, I consider it my right to know.”
“Well, you are wrong.”
Sylvester grinned, but Ferdinand returned a smile that did not reach his eyes. His talent for glaring while looking otherwise unbothered was as impressive as always.
“My apologies,” Eglantine said. “I chose my words poorly. I wished only to stress that if Lord Ferdinand had wanted the throne, I would not have volunteered.”
“Indeed, Eglantine is correct,” Ferdinand added, urging her to continue while gesturing to me to sit back down. “You stray too far from the matter at hand, Rozemyne.”
In retrospect, I really shouldn’t have dwelled on my relationship with Ferdinand; our discussion was about shaping the very future of Yurgenschmidt. He probably hadn’t said anything about the misunderstanding because he knew it would only delay us.
Oopsies.
“No, I apologize for interrupting in the first place,” I said. “Please continue.”
“If our more suitable candidates would rather not take the throne, then it falls upon me. Aub Ehrenfest suggested the royal family must clean up its own mess, and I agree; it would not be right to force the burden on anyone else. I am also a mother. If possible, I would rather live with my daughter than spend my days in a cell apart from her.”
Wait, what? Her daughter? When did this happen?!
My eyes widened in surprise. I wasn’t sure when she’d gotten pregnant or given birth, but the timing of her marriage told me her daughter was still quite young.
I didn’t realize Lady Eglantine was a mother.
In that case, becoming an aub or the Zent or whatever would indeed be much better than living apart in an ivory tower.
“We can expect Lady Eglantine’s daughter to be omni-elemental and a prime candidate to become the next Zent,” I remarked. “As long as Prince Anastasius has the resolve to support his wife, I see no reason not to grant her the Grutrissheit.”
Anastasius eyed me cautiously. “Support her in what sense?” He needn’t be so concerned, though; I was referring to the same expectations placed upon a female aub’s husband.
“You will need to carry out the duties of the Zent in Lady Eglantine’s stead when she is pregnant and on maternity leave. To that end, the two of you will not be able to have any more children until you can take her place—that is, until you have obtained the divine protections of all the primary gods. It should not take you long if you circle the shrines with a glut of rejuvenation potions.”
To support the Zent, one needed only to become omni-elemental; having one’s own Book of Mestionora was by no means necessary. I wanted to encourage Anastasius to do his best for Eglantine. His cheek twitched for some reason, but still—he would do anything for his beloved wife and daughter. I trusted that he would go to any lengths to grant Eglantine’s wishes.
“If we agree that Lady Eglantine should become the Zent, then we will start by hiding the royal family’s crimes as best we can,” I said. “Could we conceal the fact that Prince Hildebrand obtained his schtappe and pretend it never happened?”
Magdalena stared at us in surprise.
I continued, “It seems unfair to further punish the third prince when everyone else in his family will get to bury their crimes and continue to live as nobles, however hard those lives might be. Could we turn his bracelets into a ring that serves the same purpose, allowing his schtappe to be sealed until the time comes for him to obtain it with his classmates?”
“His retainers could modify the bracelets to make that an option, but...” Ferdinand gave me a sharp look that forced me to avert my eyes. “You are as overly lenient as ever.”
From there, he turned to the rest of the room. “Indeed, as Rozemyne suggests, there is much room for compassion when it comes to the third prince. In addition to his youth, he was most likely isolated from the chain of communication, and none of the adults around him ever thought to be on guard against Raublut. It would not be fair for a mere child to face punishment when those in his family who knew better are being allowed to wipe the slate clean. His crimes, at least, can go unseen.”
Everyone remained silent as Ferdinand gazed upon Magdalena. There was a more critical glint in his eyes.
“Lady Magdalena, we cannot be surprised that a young child trusted the words of the knight commander when even his retainers were fooled. That said, had he understood the quality of schtappes and why the age for obtaining them was raised, he would not have been so foolish as to commit this crime in the first place. Third prince or no, I must conclude that you failed with his education.”
Hildebrand paled, while Magdalena cast her eyes down. “That is correct,” she said. “I did not educate him as well as I should have.”
Wait, what? I told Prince Hildebrand why the curriculum was changed when we were in the underground archive. I even said as much to Ferdinand when we were interrogating Alstede.
I cocked my head at Ferdinand. Was he trying to spare Hildebrand some of the blame by attributing as much fault as he could to the adults? I certainly wasn’t going to correct him this time; doing so would force him to respond that the prince was more foolish than he’d thought and push the conversation toward making the punishment even harsher. Instead, I took another approach.
“Worry not, Ferdinand—Lady Eglantine becoming the Zent means King Trauerqual can become an aub. The royal family will soon cease to exist, and if we encourage Prince Hildebrand to learn from Dunkelfelger, I am sure he can still grow into a fine archduke candidate.”
Lestilaut and Hannelore were both exceptionally above-average archduke candidates. And as Magdalena was from Dunkelfelger, I saw no reason why she wouldn’t be able to remedy the prince’s poor education going forward.
“Um, Roze— Lady Rozemyne...” Hildebrand muttered, clearly anxious. “Would you support me becoming a Zent in the future?”
It seemed next to impossible for Hildebrand to obtain the Book of Mestionora, but there was nothing wrong with providing a little motivation. I opened my mouth to say that I would... only to be cut short by Ferdinand.
“Enough,” he said. “You cannot show favoritism while here as the Divine Avatar of Mestionora. Young though the prince might be, he must be told the truth.” I was being lectured without even having said anything.
“I understand what you mean, but is it really necessary to crush his dreams in front of everyone?”
“Is it not more cruel to give him false hope? How long would you let him go before revealing that he aspires to the impossible?”
“‘The impossible’?!” Hildebrand repeated, his eyes widening.
Ferdinand refused to mince his words. “The schtappe you obtained is no better than those of the old generation.”
The next generation’s Zent would need to secure the Book of Mestionora through their own power. Once the method for acquiring it and the importance of prayer were spread during the Archduke Conference, the younger students would no doubt start dedicating themselves to compressing their mana and procuring more elements before their third year. Compared to the schtappes they would obtain, one obtained before even entering the Royal Academy would be of awfully low quality.
Ferdinand continued, “In your case, Prince Hildebrand, if you overcompress your mana or pray too much, your mana will exceed your schtappe’s capacity and become impossible to control. Rozemyne experienced the same problem after performing the divine protections ceremony in her third year.”
“But she seems okay now,” Hildebrand replied. “There must be a way...”
“Rozemyne was omni-elemental to begin with and able to enter the shrines of the primary gods. The same cannot be said for you. Even as you grow, your schtappe’s capacity will remain severely limited—a most crippling blight on your future as a noble. The hardships this will cause you are the unseen burden you will need to carry for the rest of your life.”
Hildebrand scrunched up his face, on the verge of tears. “In other words, I can’t become a Zent?”
“You will understand why if you learn the ancient language and read the documents in the underground archive. In the past, students obtained their schtappes during their final year, and those who did not pray enough to obtain the divine protections of all the primary gods were unable to take the throne. You obtained your schtappe before gaining all the elements, so the same is true for you.”
The third prince hung his head, overcome with despair. His mother and father furrowed their brows in frustration, but they weren’t the only ones; Dunkelfelger’s archducal couple looked just as regretful.