I focused on my mana. “Perhaps because I skipped the prayer, the divine power within me remains stable.”
“I am glad to hear it,” Hartmut said, visibly relieved. “Then you should not have any trouble filling the other instruments.”
“The usual prayer makes the mana turn green, Flutrane’s divine color. Are we sure this rainbow liquid can restore the earth?”
“Let us experiment.”
Hartmut took the chalice from me, then threw some of the liquid out into the castle’s garden. I couldn’t see where it landed—I was told to stay seated to preserve my stamina—but the nobles on the balcony cried out in awe.
“The flowers are blooming!”
“And the grass looks greener than before.”
Soon enough, the nobles were praising my virtues as a divine avatar. The whole song and dance was getting tiresome. I wanted nothing more than to purge the gods’ power from my body—they had forced it upon me, and it really didn’t seem all that special—but what would that mean for the future? Did the people here realize I would return to normal once the divine power was out of my system?
And will they still recognize me as an aub when it’s gone?
Unease spread through my chest. As much as I wanted to be rid of my divine power, I was starting to fear losing it. A small voice in my head told me to keep it—for the duchy’s sake as well as my own.
“Lady Rozemyne shall use this power to purify Ahrensbach and restore its land...” one of the nobles cooed, giddy with joy. Hartmut overheard them and almost laughed.
“You misunderstand. Lady Rozemyne is not here to restore your sinful duchy—she is preparing it for her own creation. Ahrensbach shall crumble, and a library city shall rise in its place.”
“In its current state, this duchy is not good enough to become Lady Rozemyne’s new home,” Clarissa added. “You have two choices: cling to your Ahrensbach roots and face punishment or worship Lady Rozemyne as vassals of her new duchy. We must not have taught you well enough.”
Hartmut gave a firm nod of agreement. In one fell swoop, they had cleared up one of my concerns and given rise to another. I didn’t want to build my city in a duchy of obsessed cultists. In an ideal world, its residents would all be bookworms. Ordinary bookworms.
“Hartmut, Clarissa...”
“Truth be told, Lady Rozemyne, we received a letter from the new Zent,” Hartmut said, turning back to me without missing a beat. “She wishes to know the name, color, and desired crest of your new duchy so that she can announce them during the Archduke Conference. Lord Ferdinand said you could decide after Spring Prayer, but I disagree; we should make our intentions clear and put any misunderstandings about this duchy’s future to rest. Have you come up with a name for your library city?”
A name...
I paused in thought. What name would suit an entire city of books? I could already feel my excitement growing as ideas shot through my mind. No matter what Ahrensbach’s nobles said, my desire to turn this duchy into my very own library stretched up into the sky like an ever-growing beanstalk. It made me so emotional that I almost prayed to Bluanfah the Goddess of Sprouts.
Not so fast, Rozemyne. Stay calm.
Just thinking about a name and crest made my dream creation seem all the more real. I was already drafting the speech I would give during the Archduke Conference.
How about Alexandria, the ancient port city with its very own library and gardens? Or maybe Venezia, the trade city that accumulated more bookstores than anywhere else in the world after printing was invented. I could also name it after one of the other great libraries back on Earth. Aah, what a tough choice!
I was enjoying my internal debate when Ferdinand and those with him arrived on their highbeasts. “I am here at last,” he said. “Let us begin Spring Prayer at once.”
“Ferdinand, which name do you think I should choose for my new duchy?” I asked eagerly. “Venezia or Alexandria?”
“Is this really the time?” he responded with an exceptionally cold stare. “We are in a state of emergency.”
“True, but emergencies are the best time to contemplate the fun things in life. It boosts morale! I guess you’re right, though; the name of my new duchy isn’t of the utmost importance right now. Put it out of your mind. I’ll consult the gods instead.”
Ip dip doo, the gods get to choose...
I moved my finger back and forth in my head, bouncing between Venezia on the left and Alexandria on the right. Ferdinand grabbed me before I could finish.
“Enough. Do not pray to the gods. Though there is nothing wrong with trying to stay cheerful, the names you come up with have the most unusual pronunciations. Proceed with caution, and submit a name only once you have shared with us its origin and your intentions.”
My retainers nodded in agreement.
“Indeed. A duchy’s name must not be chosen lightly. We should take some time to exchange ideas.”
“Be considerate of the aubs who will succeed you.”
Wait... Are my ideas going to be cast aside before I even realize what’s happening?
I was having flashbacks to when my suggestions of Kensaku and Opac were rejected in favor of Adrett. That hadn’t bothered me too much—I could always make more shumils and give them the names I wanted—but my city could only be named once. I wasn’t about to surrender.
“What about Alexandria?” I asked.
“Did I not just tell you this was an emergency?” Ferdinand shot back. “There will be time for this discussion tonight. Wait until then. We will also need to discuss several other aspects of your plan, as an entwickeln cannot be performed without schematics. Now, make us a teleportation circle. We shall start by filling the duchy’s most ravaged provinces.”
There was nothing I could say to that. Deciding the name of my new city would need to wait—which was fine with me, as long as I got to plead my case. I chanted, “Grutrissheit” to form my Book of Mestionora, then copied and placed a teleportation circle. It was ready in mere moments, eliciting awed murmurs from those around me.
Ferdinand approached me and asked in a whisper, “Were there ill effects of using the divine instruments?”
“There was a... minor problem,” I said. “But it shouldn’t be an issue by the time we’re done with the teleporter.”
“You fool.”
Once our belongings were ready to be teleported, our retainers and chefs stepped atop the circle. It made for a pretty sizable group.
For obvious reasons, it had fallen to me to prepare and pour mana into the teleportation circle. Ferdinand would need to activate it, though; Ahrensbach’s foundation thought he was the aub. He took out a somewhat large feystone before making his schtappe, indicating to those who didn’t know he had dyed me that he was acting as my representative and using my mana.
“Nenluessel. Bindewald.”
The spell drained more mana than I’d expected, though it was still a drop in the bucket compared to how much remained.