“Cordula, everyone... Nothing matters more to me than staying friends with Lord Wilfried and Lady Rozemyne—than being able to laugh and speak with them as usual. I understand now that I was being shortsighted, and that my way of thinking was more wishful than realistic. Even so, I cannot give up on that which is dear to me.”
I took pride in not having burdened my friends with knowledge of my hardships at home. And now that my relationship with Lord Wilfried was in tatters, I wanted nothing more than to repair it, if such a thing were possible.
“I would ask that you not belittle the friendships and experiences I consider more precious than anything.”
“Very well,” Cordula said. “As your retainers, we hereby swear to protect what is important to you.”
And with that, the chasm that had separated my retinue and me since our ditter match with Ehrenfest—or rather, since my stubborn defense of Lord Wilfried—had finally been closed.
Rather than try to force an engagement, I wished to cherish my friendships and the good times we had spent together. Only now was that clear to me. Returning to my fourth year had caused me all manner of problems, but it had taught me something valuable as well: I needed to communicate with my retainers, not simply turn my back on them.
Truthfully... I wish I could go back to the present.
I wished to return to my original time, when, for all my trials and tribulations, my bond with Ehrenfest was as strong as ever. I would apologize to Lord Wilfried for how I proposed to him, then face Cordula and the others again to repair my relationship with them.
As I racked my brain for what to do, I suddenly recalled the Goddess of Time’s warning. I was forbidden from presenting my knowledge of the future to those who had yet to experience it. The moment I came under suspicion, Dregarnuhr would retrieve me and erase the memories of all those I interacted with.
In short, by breaking the taboo, I can undo my mistakes here?
I feared the impact my early confession might have on the present when I returned there with Lady Rozemyne. Based on his reaction and response, I could see just how much Lord Wilfried had matured over the course of his fourth year.
“The truth is, Cordula—”
Before I could say another word, my knight Heilliese burst into the room. “A moment of your time, milady?” she asked. “One of the mednobles has a petition for you.”
I put my thoughts of returning to the present aside and gestured for her to continue. She knelt before me and wasted no time in giving her report.
“It seems the archnobles have completely stripped the gathering spot of herbs, despite the other students’ need to brew rejuvenation potions for the Dedication Ritual.”
It had been Fireday when I first returned to my fourth year, and Kenntrips had given me a list of mednoble names upon seeing me. It stood to reason, then, that the archnobles had performed their Dedication Ritual the previous Earthday. They had all been required to participate, which meant they needed rejuvenation potions—specifically, the ingredients to brew them. I searched my memories and recalled that, indeed, I had needed to restore the gathering spot before.
I remember it being an arduous, exhausting task, as the knights who thought ill of me were reluctant to help.
Loath though I was to go through it all again, the mednobles’ and the laynobles’ Dedication Rituals were right around the corner. I had no choice but to replenish the gathering spot, and we needed all the assistance we could get to minimize the burden.
In my fourth year, those of the grades above had tended to go overboard when harvesting ingredients. It was only in my fifth year that I mobilized all of our students to restore the gathering spot together.
“Ideally, we should get everyone to take part in the replenishment,” I said. “Could we do it tomorrow morning after training?”
“If everyone cooperates, then yes...” Heilliese muttered with some reservation. “But that would mean using up mana before class; we should expect many to speak out in protest.”
My retainers all wore uncertain expressions. Their concerns made perfect sense; at this point in time, before my role in true ditter, I doubted the knights would obey me. They had followed my brother’s orders without question, so it had wounded me to see them so reluctant.
How did we resolve this before? As I recall, we had Rasantark to thank.
In the blink of an eye, his booming voice had whipped the entire dormitory into shape. It had depressed me at the time—as I saw it, I was so worthless that even one of my brother’s archnoble retainers commanded greater authority. Only now could I appreciate how much Kenntrips and Rasantark had done for me when my reputation was so painfully lacking.
To think I was so blind...
Upon my return to the present, I would need to express my sincerest thanks to both suitors. But of course, restoring the gathering spot came first. My knowledge of the future told me that I needed a way to get the knights to listen to me.
True ditter convinced them all before. Perhaps playing ditter in the dormitory will change their tune?
I waited until dinner that evening to make my announcement: “After tomorrow morning’s training, all students in their third year and above will work together to replenish the gathering spot.”
Just as Heilliese had predicted, my words were met with plenty of resistance. Few wanted to expend their mana so soon before class.
“If you consider that too much, then we shall do it tonight,” I said. “The mednobles need time to brew as well.”
“Tonight...?” one of the gathered nobles asked. “Immediately after dinner?”
“You get free time after meals, do you not? We need only restore the gathering spot enough for the laynobles and mednobles to collect the resources they need.”
As in my memories, the knights were slow to react. The attendants and scholars followed their example and stayed quiet; they would need the knights to protect them from feybeasts while they healed the gathering spot, which prevented them from acting alone.
I pursed my lips, Kenntrips grimaced, and Rasantark turned to me with a frown. Before, I had thought they were scorning me for my uselessness as an archduke candidate, but now I understood that they were simply concerned.
“Enough, everyone! This is an order from Lady Hannelore!” Rasantark declared, coming to my aid as he had done before. “We shall assist her once we’ve eaten!”
“Assist her?” one knight repeated. “How do we know she won’t betray us next?”
“We apprentice knights have suffered enough at her hands!” another retorted.
Their shouts and jeers made me want to avert my eyes, but then I remembered what Professor Eglantine had said to me. Just as the duchy rankings had given me power over Lord Wilfried, status gave me authority over the others in the dormitory. Although I was responsible for this conflict, I still had every right to scold those who were acting out of turn.
My silent acceptance only enabled and encouraged the knights before.
Permitting the knights to refuse orders and scorn an archduke candidate risked undermining the chain of command during serious operations. As my experience with true ditter had made clear, trouble could come entirely out of the blue, leaving those involved with barely any time to prepare. I needed to make my stance clear and scold them for their insolence.
I took a deep breath and let mana course through my body. Then I held my head high and glared down at the unruly students with savage intensity. “Your personal grievances with me are no excuse to refuse the orders of an archduke candidate. Was that much not clear? We shall heal the gathering spot together, for the entire dormitory will pay the price otherwise.”
The last apprentice knight to complain merely stared at me with his mouth agape. He took a moment to regain his composure, then attempted to speak out again.
“LANZE!” I interrupted, slamming the butt of my newly formed spear against the floor with all my might. “All students in their third year and above shall gather fully armed. For as long as I am an archduke candidate, you will obey my orders, no matter how you might feel about me personally!”
“Understood!”
The gathered students scattered like baby spiders. Soon enough, Lestilaut’s and my stunned retainers were the only ones who remained with me in the dining hall.
“Lady Hannelore...?”
“We must prepare as well,” I declared. “The gathering spot needs to be restored. Rasantark, I thank you ever so much for moving to protect me.”
This time, I properly thanked my future suitor before returning to my chambers. There, I changed into full armor and asked Cordula to prepare the relevant magic tools for hunting feybeasts.
“Do you truly need this many?” she asked.
“I do. Restoring an almost barren gathering spot will prompt an assault from all manner of mana-hungry feybeasts.”
Last time, the feybeasts had put us through our paces, for we had not anticipated an attack on such a large scale. Kenntrips had advised me to guide the students to the safety of the dorm, of course, so I could only base my evaluation on the worn-down appearance of the returning knights.
“I do not remember the aub or knight commander mentioning anything of the sort when they replenished the gathering spot after the Archduke Conference...” Cordula said.
“Hmm? No, I suppose not. Back then, the duchies all restored their gathering spots simultaneously, dividing the feybeasts’ attention in the process. And as their combined work supplied the Royal Academy with an abundance of mana, we can assume there are more feybeasts here now than there were in spring.”
My retainers eyed me with suspicion, so I met their looks with a smile. The dormitory supervisors of the present had gathered what intelligence they could and compared the feybeasts around the Academy to those from before the civil war. In the end, they had concluded that there were indeed more—not that anyone at this point in time could know that.
“Lady Rozemyne warned me,” I added. “She knows more about regenerating the gathering spots than anyone.”