It might be a bother to make my move during our lesson, so perhaps I should ask Lord Wilfried to stay behind for a moment when we finish.
I wandered into my classroom, still deep in thought.
“Good morning, Lady Hannelore.”
“Indeed. Good morning.”
“Good morning, Lord Ortwin, Lord Wilfried.”
I had not expected anyone to speak to me, so I was caught unawares by the two boys’ greetings. I returned the gesture, then looked at Lord Ortwin. Despite his zealous confession in the present, nothing about his current demeanor gave me reason to believe he had an interest in me. Perhaps that spoke to his talent as an archduke candidate.
“I was just asking Wilfried about Lady Rozemyne’s health,” he said. “It seems she shows no signs of recovering.”
“Unfortunately not,” Lord Wilfried supplied, evidently troubled. “She was, um, already working hard to finish her classes, intent on returning home as soon as she could, when she had to take part in the Dedication Ritual on her only day of rest. Her attendants expect her to be bedridden for quite some time. Exhaustion must have gotten the better of her.”
A year ago, I had assumed that Lord Wilfried wavered out of concern for Lady Rozemyne. Now that I knew the truth, I could analyze his response more carefully.
He is feigning concern. I know that just by looking at him.
I was unsure how to explain it, but I could tell when he was truly anxious just by the nuances of his expression. He was uncomfortable at most, maybe because he was having to deceive us. That I could identify these subtle hints that escaped even Lord Ortwin spoke to just how closely I observed him.
“Um, Lord Wilfried...” I said.
“Yes, Lady Hannelore?” he asked with a smile. As he gazed upon me, I saw not a trace of adoration in his dark-green eyes. He must have considered the bride-stealing ditter incident well and truly over, as I saw no guilt or conflict in them either.
It was very unlikely that Lord Wilfried knew how I was being treated in Dunkelfelger. I had purposefully not told Ehrenfest, reluctant to trouble them further, so I was almost proud to see the lack of shame in his expression. Part of me wished to preserve that innocence—but more than that, I wished to see his eyes widen with the same disbelief as when I had confessed to him before.
“There is something important we must discuss,” I explained. “May I have a moment of your time after class?”
“After class...?”
“Indeed. Only a moment, I assure you.”
Lord Wilfried nodded, evidently unaware of my intentions. The first step of my mission complete, I felt the corners of my mouth rise as I moved to my desk.
“Everyone, let us begin class,” Professor Eglantine called. Who would believe that a year from now, Lady Rozemyne would hand her the Grutrissheit and facilitate her becoming the next Zent? I was delighted to be a student of someone who would go on to rule all of Yurgenschmidt.
As per our teacher’s instructions, we each prepared our respective box garden. Lady Rozemyne had turned a feystone into gold dust and drawn a magic circle with remarkable speed in our first week of class, but such raw talent was thoroughly abnormal; nobody else in our class would even come close to matching her. The slower students had yet to even finish supplying their boxes with mana.
I channeled mana into a feystone with one hand, trying to reduce it to gold dust, while drawing a magic circle with the other. It was exhausting. I would need time to drink mana-focused rejuvenation potions and recover.
As I waited for my mana to return to me, I gradually continued to add to the magic circle. It was creation magic, accessible only to archduke candidates. Lady Rozemyne had drawn the entire circle at once, but a normal archduke candidate would not have the mana or focus to recreate such a complex pattern with so many sigils in one go.
I might not be as fast as Lady Rozemyne, but I am making quick progress by regular standards.
I glanced at the empty space beside mine and sighed. How was Lady Rozemyne doing? Was she succeeding in her mission? She really must be special for the gods to have gone to her directly.
Perhaps she will finish in the blink of an eye, as with her classes.
The amount of time I could spend in the past depended on Lady Rozemyne. I needed to confess to Lord Wilfried as quickly as I could.
As soon as class is over.
I squeezed my schtappe-made pen, marring one of my sigils with an imperfect line. My nerves were getting the better of me, it seemed.
I could already imagine how my confession would go. Lord Wilfried would stare at me with wide eyes, as he had done before, then look around in embarrassment. He would repeat that he appreciated my feelings and that he yearned for a fiancée such as I. But the parallels would end there; this time, he would surely declare, “Aub Ehrenfest has granted me one year to decide my future. I shall devote my absolute all to becoming the next archduke.”
Again, my hand strayed, introducing an error to another of my sigils. I gazed down at the misshapen circle and sighed; I was not in the right frame of mind for such sensitive work.
I shall put this aside and make gold dust for now.
Resolved to focus my attention elsewhere, I submerged the paper I was using into a solution designed to remove mana ink. The magic circle I had drawn melted away, leaving only a pure-white sheet.
Fourth bell rang, and students started exiting the classroom. I was packing away my things, attempting to look busy as I waited for everyone to leave, when I noticed Lord Ortwin turn toward me. Our eyes met... and then he departed as well.
“Lady Hannelore, Lord Wilfried—if you have gathered your belongings together, then kindly take your leave.”
“Professor Eglantine...” I muttered. “There is, um, something I must discuss with Lord Wilfried. If you could allow us just a moment...”
Professor Anastasius—even now, the thought of a former prince becoming a teacher seemed strange to me—had overlooked my conversation with Lord Ortwin, and that had taken place during class. Professor Eglantine had no reason to refuse me, I thought, but a troubled frown came over her face. Her bright orange eyes moved from me to Lord Wilfried and back again.
“Forgive me, Lady Hannelore, but I cannot grant you my sanction,” she said quietly, one hand resting on her cheek. “During our days at the Royal Academy, Prince Anastasius would approach me before, during, and after class. I was but an archduke candidate at the time, whereas he was royalty, so there was nothing I could do to refuse him.”