bookworm

Epilogue
Benno reflexively held down his hat the moment he exited the temple; the blizzard was stronger now than when he had arrived. He climbed down the stairs with his collar popped, heading straight toward and then climbing through the open door of the waiting carriage. Mark and Lutz rushed in soon after, covered in snow from the short walk. The driver shut the door behind them, and the carriage started moving in no time.
Ever since Rozemyne became the High Bishop, Benno had started receiving official invites in response to his requests for meetings and would arrive at the temple via carriage. The driver was surely going through hell driving them in this weather, but it was worth it—unlike the Othmar Company, the Plantin Company wasn’t located right by the temple, so making the journey on foot would only have gotten them buried in snow.
The carriage moved slower than usual, likely due to the snow blocking the driver’s vision. Inside, the silence was almost deafening, broken only by an annoyingly loud rattle as the windows endured the heavy winds. Lutz would normally spend the journey back discussing his time with Rozemyne in her hidden room and what he should or shouldn’t say to her family, but today he just stared at the floor with his lips pressed tightly together.
Benno noticed that Mark was looking at him with a concerned expression, but he just shook his head and stared out the window with a sigh. I know this is ’cause the magic contracts are getting nullified, but, huh... What to do about this?
Their meeting today had not gone as Lutz was used to. Once the introductions were complete, they would usually be taken into the hidden room, where Rozemyne would speak not as a noble, but as Myne. There, Lutz was able to speak freely, and Myne would listen to him as though it were completely normal.
Today, however, the guildmaster had also been in attendance, and only he, Benno, and Otto were generally permitted to speak. Lutz had no doubt been shaken to the core by Rozemyne casually announcing that their contract was going to be nullified, especially considering the noble smile on her face, but he probably hadn’t noticed how she really felt. She had maintained a calm composure when she brought up the matter, but her hands were tightly clenched and trembling slightly.
We need to keep Rozemyne emotionally stable here.
Both the Plantin and the Gilberta Companies still needed Rozemyne’s backing, and this conversation had confirmed there would soon be a flood of merchants coming in from other duchies. The lower city merchants would most likely be crushed without someone to shield them from the unreasonable demands they would surely face; all it took was a whim or a bit of misplaced anger for a noble to end them.
As the one who had gotten Tuuli into the Gilberta Company, Lutz into the Plantin Company, and the guildmaster to stay away from Rozemyne, Benno knew it was his responsibility to keep Rozemyne emotionally stable so that she could protect the Gutenbergs and the lower city merchants.
And to keep her stable, we need Lutz to get a grip too.
“Welcome back, Master Benno.”
A servant greeted them as they went inside the Plantin Company. The interior was dim, and there was nobody else inside, as was to be expected; no normal person would risk going out to buy books and paper in the midst of an intense blizzard, so they would close up shop until the weather calmed. The lehanges wouldn’t come to work either, meaning that during such periods, the Plantin Company largely housed only three people: Benno, the owner; Mark, the leherl; and Lutz, the leherl apprentice. There were also some servants and a chef who only lived there during the winter.
Most of those willing to live in a closed store over the winter were bachelors without a family or any relatives to help with winter preparations, those who were on bad terms with their families and wanted to avoid being shacked up with them for an entire season, and those who were looking to save money for when they were married by living with their employer rather than spending on winter preparations. The chef staying with them this winter was in the third camp, and since he worked in the Italian restaurant, their meals were more than satisfactory.
Benno and the others knocked the snow from their clothes as they climbed the stairs to the second floor where they lived. The furnace in the shared living space had already been lit, making it much warmer. Benno exhaled with relief, but there was no time to linger.
“Mark, bring tea to my room. Lutz, keep your coat on and come with me. We need to talk.”
Still wearing his coat, Benno went into his room and started a fire in his personal furnace. His own room was frosty cold, since they usually stayed in the living room to save on costs. They were technically wasting firewood, but there wasn’t much else they could do when talking about Rozemyne. They couldn’t risk the servants overhearing.
Lutz trudged in with slumped shoulders and a clouded expression. He had entered after Benno, who pulled up a chair and sat right next to the furnace, staring into the fire as he waited for the leherl apprentice to do the same.
“Lutz, you need to keep yourself under control, otherwise Rozemyne’s going to become unstable,” Benno said, looking the boy over. “If you ever need to let out some feelings or vent your frustrations, do that here. Don’t show weakness like this in the temple.”
Lutz watched the fire slowly grow bigger and then shut his eyes tight. “I... I don’t think she cares anymore.”
“Excuse me?”
“I can’t believe she didn’t even blink when she talked about nullifying our contracts...” he murmured. “She probably doesn’t even care about them anymore.”
Yeah, this is what we get for relying on the hidden room too much.
Benno ran his fingers through his slicked-back hair, letting it down. For Lutz, it had been normal to use the hidden room when talking about important things. He had given Rozemyne reports through Gil and Fritz in the past, but he wasn’t used to talking to her about important things when she was wearing her noble persona.
“Are you stupid?” Benno asked. “Like hell Rozemyne wants those contracts nullified.”
“But, Master Benno...”
“The magic contracts are more important to her than anyone. Could you not see how desperate she is to cling to her few remaining connections to the lower city? To be honest, considering how we’re going to be expanding these businesses, those contracts are nothing but a problem for you and me.”
Lutz firmly shook his head. “‘Nothing but a problem’?” he echoed, his voice quavering.
Benno scratched his head. Lutz was a lot more dependent on those contracts than he had thought. “Think about it as an apprentice leherl in the Plantin Company,” he said. “There were a lot of good opportunities we couldn’t take advantage of while she was asleep due to those contracts, remember, and she’s sickly enough that it might happen again sometime. Those contracts just don’t work for industries being expanded at the command of an archduke.”
Without Rozemyne’s approval, they hadn’t been able to make Haldenzel its own Plant Paper Guild, and even when it came to printing and making books, there were some things they couldn’t do without her. Myne becoming Rozemyne had resulted in paper-making and printing becoming official duchy industries, and with the archduke now steering them into popularity, it didn’t make sense to ask her permission for every little thing.
Lutz looked up with a start. “But the contracts are—”
“They were always just for insurance. We didn’t know if some random noble would snatch Myne away when she went to the temple, and our contracts were a way for us to keep in touch with her.”
Of course, Myne had then been passed off as dead, and Rozemyne became the archduke’s adopted daughter. The Gilberta Company was a growing star that had secured the exclusive business of the trailblazing archducal family, while Benno and the others were awarded the name “Plantin” by the archduke’s adopted daughter. No longer did they need to worry about Rozemyne suddenly going missing or not being allowed to see them anymore.
“Everything’s different from how it was back then,” Benno concluded. “You two don’t need those contracts anymore.”
Lutz mulled over those words for a moment and then repeated, “Everything’s different...” The contracts had made sense back when the immediate short-term was more important than anything else, but now that the Plantin Company was guaranteed a role in the archduke’s expanding industries, there wasn’t much use for them at all.
“But that’s not true for her. Barely any time has passed since she woke up from her two-year slumber, and she hasn’t yet had an opportunity to see anyone from her family,” Benno explained. “Her losing one more tiny connection to the lower city runs the risk of making her as emotionally unstable as she was before.” He was alluding to their first meeting after Rozemyne had woken up, when she had mentioned being unable to cry no matter how much she wanted to and then immediately burst into tears.
Rozemyne was living all alone in noble society as the archduke’s daughter—who knew what might destabilize her? Just discussing business with archnobles was enough to exhaust Benno; it was impossible to say how much greater of a burden she was enduring.
Back when Myne was an apprentice blue shrine maiden, she had called Lutz and Tuuli over to the temple on a regular basis when she was stuck there over the winter. Those were ancient memories to Lutz, since he was a kid and that was years ago, but to Benno, it had happened just recently.
“You should know better than anyone that no matter how calm Rozemyne looks, she’s not necessarily calm on the inside,” Benno said. Myne had given Lutz consoling smiles even when enduring the tremendous pain of the Devouring. Benno’s childhood sweetheart from when he was thirteen had also endured it, and the way she had screamed when the heat welled up out of nowhere stuck with him to this day. His brows knitted as he thought back to that girl, the love of his life whom he had failed to save. “You may not have seen it, Lutz, but her hands were shaking when she brought up nullifying the contracts. Don’t let her noble facade fool you.”
Lutz swallowed hard, his expression twisting into a grimace. He was frustrated at himself for not having paid enough attention to Rozemyne.
“Lutz, stay on track here. Our job doesn’t change whether those contracts are there or not—we’ve still got our eyes on the same prize. And given how hard it is for Rozemyne to meet with her family, you’re the only one who can keep her calm. If at any point she gets unstable, you can let her cry on you until she’s satisfied and reassure her that nothing’s changed, as you’ve done before.”
It was then that Lutz’s eyes finally stopped wavering. He faced forward, slapped himself on the cheeks, and nodded. “Yes, Master Benno.”
That should do it, Benno thought, letting out a relieved sigh at Lutz having calmed down. So long as Lutz stays strong, Rozemyne’ll manage somehow.
“Master Benno, I have brought the tea,” Mark said, stepping into the room as though he had been waiting for the exact moment the conversation came to a close. He glanced at Lutz and then nodded. “If you have finished your discussion, shall we move to the living room? It is much warmer there.”
Benno paused for a moment. “Nah, it’s easier to work here where there’s more paperwork. I’ll start gathering input on the lower city infrastructure improvements Rozemyne was talking about.”
“You will need additional documents for when you go to the castle to explain things to the archduke, correct?” Lutz asked, immediately picking up his boards and some ink with a confident smile. Benno grinned right back at him. They might not have been able to go out into the snow, but there was still plenty for them to do. There was no time to mope.
“It is nice to see you both so motivated, but I did just prepare tea,” Mark noted. “Might I suggest you begin drinking?” His intimidating smile strongly encouraged them not to let the drinks go to waste.
Benno and Lutz exchanged glances before hurriedly picking up their teacups.

Honest Courting
The girl sitting before me lowered her gaze, her long eyelashes casting small shadows across her face. Her soft lips parted slightly as she sipped from her teacup.
Aah. Eglantine is as beautiful as ever.
I had initially learned about her when we were both young. My father, the fifth prince, had been deemed irrelevant to the civil war and subsequently ignored, but he was ultimately convinced to join the battle by the previous Aub Klassenberg. Eglantine’s entire family had succumbed to poison in the midst of the conflict, and Eglantine herself survived only because she had yet to be baptized and could therefore still eat in the room for children. She was then swiftly taken in by the Klassenbergs, her maternal relatives.
It was through these experiences that Eglantine became the tragic princess, who had lost her family and royal status in the civil war.
When I first saw Eglantine in the Royal Academy, she was already dazzling beyond her ten years, but beauty was not all she had: her grades surpassed even my own as a member of royalty, and she possessed a gentle character which earned respect from her retainers and even those of the lower-ranked duchies. She was already expected to one day surpass my father in terms of mana quantity and number of elements, since she was the daughter of the late third prince, but she had most likely already achieved this at ten years of age.
My father heeded Klassenberg’s plea that Eglantine wished to return to royalty, and so he gave her a choice: she could marry my brother or she could marry me, and the person she chose would become the next king. It was then that I desired the throne for the first time.
...And that was because I desired her.
I watched the slight movement in Eglantine’s throat as she swallowed a sip of tea. She then quietly set down her cup and withdrew her hand, her fingertips the color of ripened prunbeers moving with such grace that they practically danced through the air. I stared at the arcs they made so closely that I almost burned the sight into my eyes; it was the duty of royalty to carefully observe the poison-testing process, and that was the justification I was going with.
Eglantine noticed my gaze, at which point her bright orange eyes crinkled into a gentle smile. “Prince Anastasius, please do eat to your heart’s content,” she said.
I picked up my own teacup and took a sip myself, as proper etiquette dictated, but I was agonizing the entire time. How was I going to put them into words? I needed to express my feelings to her directly, yet it was proving to be a greater challenge than I ever could have imagined. My fingers tightened around the handle of my cup, causing small ripples to spread across the liquid within. A groan built up within my throat without my knowing.
Will a straightforward expression of my love not become an order...?
Firm words from royalty became an order—this was a fact drilled into me since birth, and so I had followed proper courting etiquette and only expressed my feelings to Eglantine through others. My older brother, the first prince, was sending her letters and gifts as well, but he had never courted her in person.
However, my brother has no feelings for Eglantine. He wishes to marry her only to acquire the throne.
Sigiswald already had a wife from a middle duchy, one who was planned to become his second wife once he married a woman from a greater duchy. The moment that thought crossed my mind, I heard Rozemyne’s voice echoing through my mind: “Lady Eglantine indicated that both you and your brother are proposing to her for political reasons.”
To think she assumed this entire time that I too was only after the throne...
I could not help but sigh. My brother already had a wife, and I would not stand him marrying Eglantine so frivolously. I wanted to make this beautiful woman happy with my own two hands, and it was for this reason alone that I sought the throne, even knowing it would make an enemy out of my brother.
“Please excuse my rudeness, Prince Anastasius, but did you not mention having something important to discuss?” Eglantine asked, tilting her head with a confused expression. It seemed that I had contemplatively stared into my tea for much too long.
I quickly set down my cup and partook in the prepared sweets. The sugary lumps fell apart in my mouth. Sweets of this nature were commonly served in the Sovereignty, but perhaps due to my having eaten Ehrenfest sweets recently, they tasted far sweeter than usual.
What am I to do...?
Even when facing Eglantine alone, I could not speak my feelings so abruptly. I almost reached for the sound-blocking magic tools in my pockets, but I ultimately paused. It was much too early. My mind raced for something to open with, but all that came to mind were Rozemyne’s harsh words.
“You had a tea party with Rozemyne, did you not?” I finally asked.
“Oh my. Has Lady Rozemyne said something?” Eglantine asked. Her smile deepened, but I was watching her carefully enough to notice her cheeks tense up ever so slightly. Had they discussed something she did not want me to hear? Or had Rozemyne been so rude to her that she found the memory appalling?
They best not have amused themselves by speaking ill of me.
Rozemyne’s evil, poisonous smile flashed through my mind. I envisioned myself dropping a fist on her skull in an attempt to calm down, then composed myself with a light cough. “So, what do you think of Ehrenfest? They certainly have introduced many strange products this year. How do they seem to those from Klassenberg the First? As royalty, I also thought it important to find out what the professors think about her.”
This wasn’t a complete lie—Ehrenfest was producing a continuous stream of unique products, from new sweets, to hair ornaments, to some kind of medicine that made one’s hair glossy. A middle duchy that had once struggled to maintain its already low rank had all of a sudden become a presence that was impossible to ignore. There were no doubt problems I could prevent simply by knowing what the other duchies thought about this, and memories of the kerfuffle with Dunkelfelger were still fresh in my mind. I was also receiving many requests from students wishing to become the new master of the library’s magic tools, though I was refusing them all.
“Well,” Eglantine began, “I suppose it has gone from being a middle duchy that ascended the rankings purely through its neutrality in the civil war to a duchy that has finally begun to develop enough strength to justify its rank.”
I nodded, though I did not quite agree. “Are you not overestimating them? The past has shown that no matter how skilled or excellent an individual from Ehrenfest may be, they do not bring the entire duchy to that height. Their brilliance ends with them, and their influence remains soundly on an individual level. Do you have any proof that Rozemyne is not the same?”
It was not uncommon for geniuses specializing in a particular interest to appear in Ehrenfest. There was Hirschur, for example, who was so devoted to research that even Professor Gundolf could make neither head nor tail of, and Christine, whose skill with the harspiel made an eternal impression on all those who heard her play. As of yet, however, their influence had not spread enough to be advantageous to the entire duchy.
“It seems to me that the entire duchy is being influenced this time,” Eglantine replied. “All the Ehrenfest girls at the advancement ceremony had used rinsham, and the new music is known to all the students after only a number of years. I am told that students of all grades can play these new songs. Furthermore, the younger students have shown great improvement in their written lessons.”
“Did that not begin three or so years ago?” I asked. Rozemyne might not have even been baptized at that point, and she had slept for two years since. Surely the improvements in their grades were not her accomplishment.
“This year, Ehrenfest students of all grades have made much progress. The specifics remain unknown, but it seems to be the result of some system that Lady Rozemyne established. In a rare break of trend, Ehrenfest is clearly planning to publicize her developments and use them to benefit the entire duchy. I am quite sure Ehrenfest will see much growth while she is here.”
“I see. And their other archduke candidate?” I asked, changing the topic of conversation. It did not entirely please me to see Eglantine praising Rozemyne so highly.
“Professor Primevere has described Lord Wilfried as quite talented also. He passed court etiquette in a single attempt and is skilled at controlling his mana. However, he was frequently seen asking Lady Rozemyne for advice. Plus, while his written grades are respectable compared to other students, they are quite average for an archduke candidate.”
“I see. Advice during class, hm...?”
Rozemyne had been adopted into the archducal family, and the bad habit she had shown in thoughtlessly giving me valuable information perhaps resulted from her doing the same for the archduke’s blood-related son. They were supposed to be competing for the position of aub as fellow candidates, but it was highly likely she had been instructed to raise and support her rival instead.
Far be it from me to waste her valuable advice then...
I inhaled deeply and then took out the sound-blocking magic tools. The moment I held one out to Eglantine, she shot a brief, worried glance to her attendants.
“Better this than clearing the room of your retainers, no?” I asked.
Eglantine nodded in agreement before taking the magic tool. This was far from the first time she had tried to avoid spending any time alone with me, but it hurt my heart all the same. I tightened my grip on the tool.
“When you spoke with Rozemyne, you said that you would pick neither me nor my brother. Is that correct?”
Eglantine paused. “It seems I have spoken too freely. Perhaps I was charmed by Lady Rozemyne’s adorable visage? Please forget what she told you,” she eventually said with a troubled smile, hoping to end the discussion there. But this was not something I could simply ignore.
“Rozemyne informed me of your choice. You will obey an order to marry one of us but not make a decision of your own. She said that you wish only for peace, and not to return to royalty.”
“Do forgive me. I do not know what overcame me, to speak such words. Prince Anastasius, truly, please do forget what she said,” Eglantine repeated desperately, her eyes growing faintly damp with tears. The sight was cute beyond words, but I would not be swayed; if my spirit was not strong enough to see this through, I would never have tolerated Rozemyne’s unfathomably harsh and crude advice.
“Forgive me. I wish to grant your every request, but this is not something I can ignore. I want to know your true feelings,” I said, looking at her directly.
A clouded, defeated expression arose on her face. I could not tell whether it was her relenting to voice her request or her despairing that no matter what she said, her wish would not come true.
“Up until recently, I was aware only that you wished to return to royalty, and it has been my desire to make your wish a reality. The man you choose will in turn become king. To take your hand in marriage, I must rule. That is the only reason I have ever wanted the throne. But now I am told that your true wish is for peace.”
Eglantine’s smile became more intense, her eyes pleading with me to dig no further, but standing down now would not bring about any change. I gripped the sound-blocking tool with both hands and gazed at her more intently than before, hoping for even a fraction more of my feelings to be conveyed to her.
“My purpose is not to grant the previous Aub Klassenberg’s wish—it is to grant your wish,” I explained. “And while it is frustrating that Rozemyne was the one to point this out to me, in order to accomplish this, I want to hear your thoughts directly. I want to hear what you wish for in person, with no intermediary. And then, I want you to know my wish. Just as you do not wish to be royalty, I do not care about becoming the next king. Sigiswald seeks the throne, and if your hand in marriage was not hanging in the balance, I would willingly let him take it.”
Eglantine attempted to hide behind her usual smile, but her lips were noticeably trembling. For years I had seen only her polite facade, a wall of diplomacy that firmly separated us, and that knowledge had pained me deeply. But now I was finally seeing an ounce of true emotion from her, and I couldn’t help but feel glad at that fact.
Perhaps it would be safe to say that a fraction of my feelings have reached her.
I could feel the blood coursing through my body like scorching fire. My face was hot, and my ears were ringing. It was beyond me to dress my words in poetic whispers of my love; the best I could do was say my thoughts directly. From the perspective of royalty, I was no doubt disgracing myself.
“I yearn for nothing but you,” I said. “I want you to pick me; not my brother, and not anyone else. I want you to be my Goddess of Light and mine alone. This is not an order, of course, but my true wish.”
I steadied my breathing and watched Eglantine carefully. Our eyes met only for the briefest moment before she averted her gaze. Even now that I was following Rozemyne’s suggestion and speaking my thoughts to her in person, it appeared she could not accept my feelings.
My grip on the magic tool slackened as a wave of disappointment washed over me, but then Eglantine finally spoke. “I am shocked that you would speak so directly,” she whispered to herself, and my grip tightened once again as I strained to hear every word.
“Was that too direct of me? To tell the truth, I am following Rozemyne’s advice. She said that the political struggle has placed walls between us that twist our intentions. She suspected that we were not at all conveying our true goals to one another.”
“She did...?” Eglantine asked. Her cheeks were flushed a bashful red so charming that it made my heart pound in my chest. This was my first time seeing such a reaction from her. Could it be that Rozemyne’s advice was actually working?
“Yes. She casually told me that, since I understood your intentions so poorly, I would need to start again from the beginning and ask you about them directly. Could you imagine anyone more rude?” I asked, allowing a grin to play on my lips as I attempted to lighten the mood.
Eglantine’s bright orange eyes widened. “I never would have expected you of all people to heed such blunt words, Prince Anastasius.”
“Much of her advice was irritating to hear, but if she spoke truly, I was indeed putting you through suffering due to my own ignorance of your intentions. At the very least, I wanted you to know that my objective is not and will never be the throne.”
“I certainly do understand that now...” Eglantine said, lowering her eyes. I could feel the smile on my face broaden now that I understood this as her expression of shyness.
“Hm... If Rozemyne’s advice regarding this matter was correct, perhaps I should pay attention to her other advice as well.”
“You mean to say Lady Rozemyne said even more to you...? I’m not sure if my heart can take much more...” Eglantine murmured with a small, pouty glare. It was so endearing that my heart practically leapt with joy. I reveled in the moment for a short while before recalling Rozemyne’s other advice.
“It was all unbelievably rude advice that no other would ever dare speak to royalty. Would you care to hear it?”
“Absolutely.” Eglantine was now wearing her polite smile once more, but I could still sense the slight sulkiness to her expression. It was a pleasing development, and one that inspired me to start with the most shocking of all Rozemyne’s advice.
“To begin with, she said that I should practice my whirling more seriously if my desire is to suit you. It seems I am noticeably worse when we whirl together.”
Eglantine blinked at me in utter disbelief, though her stunned silence did not last long. “Ah... Did Lady Rozemyne truly say that to you?” she asked.
“Yes. She had my permission to speak freely, but even so I was taken aback by the impertinence of her remarks. She criticized the way I compliment you; told me to practice harspiel more, since you are so dedicated to the arts; and more.”
As I listed them off one by one, Eglantine’s smile froze. Her shock was understandable; it was unthinkable for an archduke candidate from the thirteenth-ranked duchy to speak so brazenly to a member of royalty.
“Rozemyne held nothing back and then abruptly fainted,” I explained. “She had said that she was feeling ill, but I would never have thought that she might pass out so suddenly. It came as enough of a surprise to me, but I cannot even remember the last time I saw Oswin look quite so traumatized.”
Eglantine had shown such a variety of new emotions as she listened to me speak that I carelessly went ahead and mentioned Rozemyne collapsing. In an instant, her expression changed.
“Prince Anastasius, you summoned Lady Rozemyne when she was in poor health? Goodness, that must have been terrible for her. Have you at least expressed your sympathy?”
“Me? I am willing to excuse her passing out, but as for her blunder... Is it not normal for her to first request my forgiveness?”
To pass out in a meeting with royalty was an unthinkable disgrace. Rozemyne would need to request a meeting to plead for my forgiveness, and I would generously do just that. The suggestion that I should send a letter to express my sympathy while she was sick made little sense, though had it been Eglantine in her place, I would not have wasted any time in rushing to her side.
“Under normal circumstances, yes, but the request has not yet arrived, I presume? That is evidence that Rozemyne has not yet recovered. Aub Ehrenfest must be hysterical. Please send words of sympathy not just for Lady Rozemyne, but for her entire duchy.”
“I see... I was aware that duchies generally do not interfere with Academy affairs, but I had not realized that they receive reports so frequently.”
I was unsure what information was usually passed between dorms and their duchies, but Aub Ehrenfest would certainly be in a panic to have learned that his child was called before royalty, fainted, and was now so bedridden that she could not even apologize. I had nothing but sympathy for Aub Ehrenfest, who was unable to do a thing as he read about Rozemyne collapsing in the Farthest Hall, becoming the master of the library’s magic tools, and taking on Dunkelfelger in a game of ditter.
Still, it would not be wise to send words of sympathy to Rozemyne.
There was no need to break custom for this; a poor movement on my part would result in the public assuming that Rozemyne was now in my favor. I did not wish to send words of sympathy when nobody would understand that I was doing it only at Eglantine’s request.
“Eglantine, I cannot produce such a letter so freely. If you would write it with me and assist with the phrasing, however... I will send it to Ehrenfest.”
“...If you insist,” Eglantine conceded, agreeing to compose a sympathetic letter through which I would apologize. I noticed that her smile had softened, and so I reached out a hand to her. It felt as though she might now accept it.
“Eglantine, would you care to accompany me to a gazebo later to discuss this further? I will need both Aub Klassenberg and his predecessor on our side if we are to make your dream come true, no?”
“I do not believe convincing my uncle and grandfather is going to be quite so easy,” she replied. It wasn’t a clear answer, but it was the first time she hadn’t explicitly refused my invitation to the gazebos, which were well-known gathering spots for couples and lovers. In an instant, I was invincible. Formal political negotiations with an aub and a former aub were nothing compared to speaking my feelings honestly to Eglantine.
How shall I convince them? I do not have much time, but this is a challenge worth pursuing.