Chapter Text
Pov Rozemyne
The High Priest’s office was steeped in silence, broken only by the rhythmic scratching of quills on parchment. I was focused on the stack of paperwork in front of me, carefully filling in the required details. Once I finished, I stood to hand my completed work to Ferdinand. As I returned to my desk, my gaze wandered across the room, taking in its occupants.
At one desk sat Charlotte, diligently working through her own pile of documents. Beside her was Evelina, Charlotte’s head scholar, reviewing Charlotte’s papers before they were submitted to Ferdinand. Evelina’s quill moved swiftly, her focus unwavering.
Charlotte glanced up and caught me watching. She offered me a warm, happy smile, which I returned. She quickly went back to her work, and I continued to my own desk.
At my shared workspace, my mother, Elvira, was equally engrossed in her paperwork. She served as my head scholar and provided invaluable support as I navigated my duties. I settled into my seat and resumed my work, reflecting on how much had changed over the past year and a half.
It had been a tumultuous time. During Charlotte’s baptism ceremony, there had been an attack on the castle. Men cloaked in black had infiltrated the grounds, targeting us as we returned to our chambers in the north wing.
Wilfried, accompanied by his knights, had managed to escape and secure himself behind the protective barrier of the north wing. Charlotte and I, however, had not been so fortunate. The attackers overwhelmed our knights, and one of them succeeded in abducting Charlotte.
As her elder sister, it was my duty to save her. Without hesitation, I leapt into action, chasing after the kidnappers on my highbeast. My knights, Cornelius and Angelica, followed close behind, determined to protect me and assist in rescuing Charlotte.
As we closed in, the kidnapper panicked. In a desperate attempt to escape and throw us off his trail, he hurled Charlotte into the open sky. Angelica reacted immediately, diving after her with precision. Cornelius followed swiftly, catching both Charlotte and Angelica on his highbeast. Relief washed over me for a fleeting moment, but it was short-lived.
Out of nowhere, a golden net ensnared me, and I plummeted from the sky. Before I could process what was happening, another man dressed in black appeared and restrained me with a rope made of light. He tried to force a strange potion down my throat, but before he could succeed, something—or rather, someone—stormed onto the scene.
A blur of movement crashed into the man, throwing him violently against a nearby tree. A thunderous roar echoed in the air: “Who dares to harm my only granddaughter?”
What followed is something I wish I could erase from my memory, a sight that still haunts me in my dreams. My grandfather—Lord Bonifatius —descended upon the man with terrifying fury. Without hesitation, he crushed the man’s skull with one hand.
I was frozen in place, unable to move or even process what I had just witnessed. Moments later, Ferdinand arrived, his expression a mix of worry and exasperation. He rushed to my side, immediately performing a health check to ensure I was unharmed.
Once satisfied that I was physically fine, Ferdinand’s concern morphed into anger. He began to scold me for recklessly chasing after the kidnappers. His sharp words only stopped when his gaze fell on the lifeless body of the man my grandfather had killed.
Ferdinand's fury shifted toward my grandfather. "What were you thinking?!" he barked. "We needed him alive to interrogate—now we have no way of uncovering who sent him!"
Grandfather crossed his arms, entirely unfazed by Ferdinand's anger. "Anyone who dares lay a hand on my granddaughter forfeits their right to live," he replied coldly, his words as unyielding as steel.
The tension between them was palpable, but I barely noticed. My thoughts were elsewhere, replaying the gruesome moment over and over in my mind.
Ferdinand took me away, but to my surprise, instead of heading back to the castle, he brought me to my family's mansion. Mother was already waiting for us. Normally, she embodies the very image of a perfect noble lady—elegant, composed, and graceful. But that day, she was a bundle of nerves, her worry unmistakable in her eyes.
As soon as I was in her custody, Ferdinand left to assist with the investigation into the attack. Mother led me to my room, where a calming cup of tea was promptly served. She sat beside me, her presence a mixture of soothing warmth and silent distress.
Not long after, Cornelius joined us. He approached hesitantly, requesting permission to be relieved of his duties for the rest of the day. When I granted it, he came closer, knelt before me, and looked up with eyes filled with guilt and worry.
“Are you alright, Rozemyne?” he asked, his voice trembling.
Cornelius’s face was pale, his usual composed demeanor shattered. I reassured him that I was unharmed, though my voice wavered slightly. Upon hearing this, he bowed his head and apologized profusely for failing to protect me, his voice heavy with regret.
“If grandfather hadn’t arrived when he did…” His words trailed off, but the unspoken fear in his tone was unmistakable.
I tried to comfort him, but the truth was, I felt just as shaken. That night, sleep eluded me entirely. Every time I closed my eyes, the horrifying image of my grandfather crushing that man’s head replayed in my mind. The sheer brutality of it haunted me, a grim reminder of how close I had come to a terrible fate.
The following day, Ferdinand, Father, and Grandfather visited to check on how I was holding up. The first thing I did was ask if Charlotte was alright. Father assured me that she was shaken but unharmed. I sighed in relief, the weight of that worry lifting slightly.
Ferdinand then began to brief us on their findings. After we left Grandfather, he, along with Angelica and Cornelius, managed to capture the man who had kidnapped Charlotte. Unfortunately, the identity of the man Grandfather killed was still unknown. As for the kidnapper, it turned out to be Viscount Joisontak—my supposed uncle. Ferdinand explained that the interrogation was still ongoing to uncover his motives.
I was told to remain at my family mansion for the time being. Returning to the castle was out of the question for now, as it was under full lockdown. A thorough investigation was underway to ensure no one else was involved in the attack, and to account for any missing or suspicious individuals.
Before they left, I mustered my courage and approached Grandfather. Despite my lingering fear of what he had done, I knelt before him.
“Thank you, Grandfather, for saving me,” I said, my voice trembling slightly. Then, turning to Ferdinand, I added, “And thank you, Lord Ferdinand, for coming to my aid so swiftly.”
Grandfather’s expression softened as he gave me a gentle smile.
“There is no need to thank me, little one,” he said warmly. “It is my duty to protect you. Know this, my granddaughter: I will never allow anyone to harm you.”
A warm feeling blossomed in my chest at Grandfather’s words. After bidding us goodbye, Grandfather, Father, and Ferdinand departed. The next couple of days, I spent in the company of Mother.
During those days, we had many tea parties together. At first, she asked me about my daily life, often steering the conversation toward Ferdinand—her favorite topic. It was amusing to see how much of a fangirl she could be. One day, she asked if I would be willing to perform a series of tests to evaluate my noble manners. I agreed without hesitation.
The tests consisted of hosting a variety of tea parties, where I had to showcase my etiquette and skills as a hostess. However, I never got to hear how I fared in these evaluations, as my health began to decline. The fear and stress of what had happened continued to weigh heavily on me, and my nights were plagued by sleeplessness.
Mother noticed my deteriorating state and became insistent that Ferdinand advance my treatment with the jureve.
I tried to protest, pointing out that I still needed to participate in the Dedication Ritual. Using the jureve now would mean being submerged in it for at least an entire season, which would cause me to miss the Spring Prayer. Ferdinand supported my objections, but Mother silenced both of us with a firm declaration:
“Your wellbeing is far more important than any ritual.”
And so, despite my reluctance, I was submerged in the jureve.
I found myself in a pink-hued world, an ethereal realm that felt both soothing and surreal. In my hands was a watering can, its contents shimmering faintly. At my feet lay countless stones, rough and unyielding. Instinctively, I poured the liquid from the watering can over the stones, watching as they slowly dissolved under its touch.
I continued this process tirelessly, unsure of how much time had passed. The world around me seemed timeless, a liminal space of endless pink and gentle stillness. Finally, when the last rock had dissolved and nothing remained at my feet, I felt an unseen force pulling me upward.
The sensation was abrupt, and before I could fully comprehend it, I was jolted awake by a sharp slap on my back. The force made me cough violently, expelling the remnants of the jureve from my lungs. I was drenched, every inch of me soaked from the ordeal.
Ferdinand and Mother were standing in my hidden room, their expressions a mixture of relief and concern. Ferdinand swiftly cast a spell to cleanse me and performed a quick health check. Once he confirmed that the jureve had dissolved all my mana clumps, his tense demeanor softened ever so slightly.
My body felt weak from the long slumber, but after a refreshing bath and a change into clean clothes, I felt a little more human. Sitting down with Mother and Ferdinand, they updated me on everything that had happened during my absence.
I had slept for nearly two full seasons, waking just as autumn was beginning. Ferdinand looked exhausted—his normally sharp features were drawn, and dark circles shadowed his eyes. He seemed paler than usual, and the air around him felt heavier, as though he was carrying an invisible burden. Despite his usual composure, his appearance betrayed a man who had endured sleepless nights and unrelenting stress.
He began recounting the aftermath of the attack on the castle. The investigation had led to a massive purge. Giebe Joisontak, the man who had kidnapped Charlotte, had given a ridiculous reason for his actions. Ferdinand theorized that he might have been under the influence of a drug, as even after reading his memories, they were unable to uncover coherent answers. Joisontak was executed alongside his entire household.
The man who attacked me was identified as Giebe Gerlach. A search of his house revealed no direct evidence of his allegiance to a larger scheme, but a list of possible accomplices was found. His entire household was executed, save for his youngest son, Matthias .Matthias had cooperated with the knights’ order during the investigation, and as a result, he was spared but stripped of his nobility and turned into a blue priest.
The accomplices listed by Gerlach were thoroughly investigated, leading to yet another purge. My chest tightened at the thought of how many lives had been lost due to collective punishment, especially the children who were innocent in all of this. However, some children were spared if they cooperated with the investigation, and those survivors were sent to the temple.
Mother spoke up next, telling me that she needed to have a very serious conversation with me later. Ferdinand frowned deeply at her comment but said nothing, continuing his report.
The dedication ceremony and spring prayer had been carried out without issue, using the mana that leaked from my jureve to compensate for my absence. To my joy, Charlotte had volunteered to assist during the spring prayer. Hearing how my little sister had stepped up filled me with pride and relief.
Ferdinand finished recounting the events and excused himself, promising to check on me the following day. As he left, I couldn’t help but notice how stiffly he moved, as though the weight of everything was too much even for him.
Once I was alone with Mother, she continued recounting additional events—ones she deemed imperative for me to know.
“The results of the etiquette test I conducted with you were... less than satisfactory,” she began, her tone unusually stern. “I suspected something was amiss with your noble training, so I confronted Florencia.”
I tensed at the mention of Florencia.
“She does not consider you her adoptive daughter,” Mother continued, her voice tinged with indignation. “As such, she refuses to take responsibility for your education. This led to a heated argument between us, and I’ve since withdrawn all my support from her faction.”
The consequences of her decision had been swift and severe. Lady Florencia’s faction had essentially disbanded overnight, leaving her political influence greatly diminished.
I was shocked by this revelation, but that wasn’t all. Lady Georgine had returned to visit Ehrenfest once again. I had missed her visit by a few days, as it occurred while I was still in my jureve. During the Archduke Conference, Sylvester had attempted to refuse her visit, but Lady Georgine managed to rebut his claims and force her way in regardless.
This time, she hadn’t come alone. She brought her young daughter, Detlinde, who, according to Mother, was the spitting image of Veronica.
What unfolded next was something that left my mind in turmoil, unable to process the implications. Apparently, Wilfried had fallen hard for Detlinde. This infatuation caused him to regress to the behavior he exhibited before his education had been corrected. During Lady Georgine’s visit, Wilfried unwisely revealed internal matters of Ehrenfest to Detlinde. Predictably, this information found its way to Lady Georgine.
On the final day of her visit, Lady Georgine made an outrageous proposition: she offered to adopt Wilfried into her duchy. To everyone’s shock, Wilfried accepted the offer without consulting anyone, including his parents. Sylvester and Florencia attempted to block the adoption, but Lady Georgine used the sensitive information Wilfried had leaked to Detlinde to back them into a corner.
Preparations for Wilfried’s departure were already underway. To make matters worse, Lamprecht, my brother and Wilfried’s knight, had announced that he would follow Wilfried to Lady Georgine’s duchy as his retainer.
I sat in silence, trying to process the enormity of what Mother had just revealed. How could Wilfried have been so reckless? So easily manipulated? The thought of him leaving Ehrenfest—and the consequences of the knowledge he had shared—filled me with a sense of foreboding.
“What’s going to happen now?” I whispered, more to myself than to Mother.
She sighed heavily. “That is a question only time will answer. But one thing is certain: Lady Georgine’s schemes are far from over.”
Her words settled over me like a heavy cloud, leaving me with an uneasy feeling that Ehrenfest’s troubles were only just beginning.
The weeks following Wilfried’s departure were marked by chaos and upheaval. Sylvester and Florencia were heartbroken by their son’s sudden betrayal, and the once steady leadership of Ehrenfest seemed to fracture.
Sylvester, consumed by anger and grief, launched a relentless hunt for someone to blame. His frustration led him to storm into the White Tower, carrying the circles required to read Lady Veronica’s memories. He accused her of negligence in Wilfried’s upbringing and sought answers from her long-sealed secrets.
What he uncovered made him pale. Though the details were not fully disclosed to me, the revelations forced Veronica to open her hidden room. What they found inside triggered yet another wave of purges and imprisonments, this time involving several high-profile figures, including Father’s second wife.
Nikolaus, the youngest of Father’s children, was spared execution only after I convinced Sylvester to show mercy. It was a grueling argument, as Sylvester was ready to dispose of all the implicated households, children included. In the end, I managed to sway him, emphasizing Ehrenfest’s need for nobility in the face of so much loss. Nikolaus and other surviving children were sent to the temple, their futures uncertain.
At the same time, I was focusing on recovering from my long slumber and doing what I could to “turn tin-man Ferdinand back into a human,” as I liked to joke privately. Ferdinand looked worse than ever—his health was deteriorating, and his exhaustion was plain for anyone to see.
Amid this turbulence, Charlotte approached me in the temple one day, expressing her wish to join as a blue shrine maiden. Without hesitation, I agreed. Ferdinand was furious with me for accepting her decision so quickly, and Sylvester attempted to talk her out of it, but Charlotte was resolute.
The attacks on the castle, two purges, and Wilfried’s departure had left Ehrenfest in shambles. The duchy was teetering on the edge of chaos, with whispers of civil war growing louder. In a desperate move to stabilize the situation, Sylvester conceded to the demands of the Leisegang faction. He agreed to marry Gwendolyn, a young woman in her sixth year at the Royal Academy. To ensure her suitability, Grandfather adopted her so she could take the Archduke Course and become eligible as his first wife.
This move was also a public admission of Florencia’s declining influence. Her reputation had taken a severe blow, and she would soon be officially downgraded to Sylvester’s third wife.
The sound of the fourth bell brought me back to the present. Sylvester’s marriage to Gwendolyn took place during this year’s Archduke Conference. He had also given me a task: to excel in the Royal Academy and work to elevate Ehrenfest’s ranking.
Sylvester’s goal was clear: to improve Ehrenfest’s image and secure a marriage alliance with a higher-ranking duchy, one capable of providing asylum should Lady Georgine’s scheming escalate further. His hope was to find a bride of an Upper Duchy, preferably one ranked higher than Ahrensbach. If successful, the new bride would take Florencia’s place as the first wife, while Gwendolyn would become the second.
As I processed these developments, a sense of foreboding settled over me. Ehrenfest was changing rapidly, and not all of it felt like progress.
I stood up to hand over the last of my work to Ferdinand and take my leave for the day. As I neared the door, a sudden shift in the atmosphere stopped me in my tracks. The air in the office grew thick and heavy, as though saturated with mana, making it difficult to breathe.
A sudden flash of light exploded in the center of the room, momentarily blinding me. When the light faded, I blinked rapidly to adjust my vision and gasped.
Standing in the middle of the office was a young woman whose appearance mirrored my own. Midnight-blue hair cascaded down her back, shimmering faintly with an otherworldly glow. Her golden eyes glinted like sunlight reflected on polished metal, holding an intensity that seemed to pierce through to the soul.
It was like looking at a grown-up version of myself, though her presence exuded a grace and authority I could only aspire to. She radiated power, and even Ferdinand, who rarely showed emotion, froze in place.
The woman’s gaze swept across the room, as though searching for something. When her eyes met mine, a smile spread across her lips—a warm yet knowing smile that sent a shiver down my spine.