Chapter Text
“Oh, Lord Justus, have you been able to find any further resources on the topic of alraunenwurz and its various counter indications?”, Professor Rozemyne's whispered words did not only reach Justus' ears but mine as well.
I appreciated that she always kept her voice down in the library but it was not like I could have missed her approach either way as her impressive mana capacity was announcing her presence quite prominently to me. I had more than enough time to enhance my hearing in preparation as to not miss even one word. I enjoyed hearing her voice just a tad too much for that.
Justus on the contrary had merely deemed her an interesting source of information so he enjoyed chatting with her just as much. Despite being expected to stay in the background as my attendant I did not chastise him for that any longer. Especially not since several of those – from an outsider perspective – whimsical discussions had led to several attempts on my life being prevented.
Such as when they had chatted about the apparent shortage of low quality feystones on the intra-academic market where primarily layknights sold their meager bounty to whoever might be willing to buy some – usually professors who did not want to bother with gathering their own, which Professor Rozemyne was apparently one of.
What had been a not very serious discussion about the dangers that shumils might have had to face, tipped me off that some rather strong feybeasts might be on the loose on academy grounds instead. Had I not been aware of the increased risk of such an encounter, I might have felt tempted to slay the strange beast myself that rampaged through Ehrenfest's gathering ground just three days later.
But I had heightened my caution even more than usual. And that turned out be the right choice as the beast was actually a ternisbefallen and I had not yet been allowed to learn about black weapons. In consequence, we retreated and called the Sovereignty Knight Order to take care of it which they did.
The shumils returned from their hiding spots just on the next day.
On another occasion, she had joked to Justus, who had absentmindedly scratched his wrist while I was researching some documents on the second floor of the library, that instead of scratching he should try washing the offending spot.
I had tried to ignore her very inappropriate comment on his perceived hygiene – how could a female Professor of the Sovereignty just so casually remark on something so personal of an attendant on duty? - but Justus did not feel offended by that. Instead he humored her by casting a small waschen on his wrist before he suddenly turned very serious and cast a full waschen all over himself and me.
The escalation had shocked Professor Rozemyne in that moment and she somewhat clumsily apologized that she had not intended to imply any lack in our personal grooming, but Justus later told me how he had realized that the itch on his wrist had indeed been overcome with a waschen and that he identified that as a symptom of a very slowly acting contact poison.
And if it was on his wrist the chances were high that he had distributed it to me as well already.
It later turned out that somebody had made it far enough into Justus' chambers to contaminate the cuffs he wore from time to time when he needed to work without the distraction of longer sleeves.
I was quite certain that Professor Rozemyne was not even aware of the impact she had on my life. It was a pity that most of her classes were considered attendant classes – the one track that I was not allowed to officially participate in – as it was a sheer joy to join her lectures, even as extracurricular.
The topics in and of itself were rarely noteworthy, but the examples she used to illustrate situations were always out of the ordinary. At one point she made an off-hand note about honey never expiring or molding and therefore being a great choice for a kitchen staple.
Knowledge I would basically never have any application for since no archduke candidate would ever visit a kitchen or care for the expiration date of the stock but it was still overly intriguing on multiple levels.
How could she know this? As a professor from the Sovereignty she had to be as far removed from cooking or kitchens as me. And how could she be so certain about that? I had never heard about something like this before.
In consequence, I spent the next three days in Professor Hirschur's lab to investigate said honey.
Later, when she brought several new sweets to the class to demonstrate how sugar and honey differed as sweeteners and how the respective sweets could be served to different palates and adjusted by serving them with cream, some alcoholic fruits or even some jam, I was not sure what I should think of all that.
Apart from the socializing class in the first year there had been no professor since who had been providing sweets.
I glanced in Justus' direction who seemed uneasy himself. But Professor Rozemyne had made it clear that we were to test all combinations and rate them in accordance to sweetness and complexity.
So I had to poison-test everything on the spot.
The pleasant pressure of her presence right behind me only intensified the impression that I was currently being watched.
“My, Lord Ferdinand, are you assuming I might be out for your life?”, she jested no doubt having seen all my poison-testing equipment.
“My apologies, Professor Rozemyne, I do indeed not assume that you intend to poison me, but who knows what your attendants are plotting or whether your chefs have been bribed”, I elaborated and was met with a refined giggle that made my heartbeat increase slightly.
She was radiating as if the blessings of the Goddess of Light had not stopped just at giving her the most mesmerizing golden eyes but extended over her whole figure.
I wondered why she was even allowed to be a professor and had not been snatched up by the Royal Family. Even if her political background was difficult surely she would have made at least a commendable third wife.
But maybe she would be dead then given the recent civil war that had thrown Yurgenschmidt into Chaocipher's iron grip.
“Oh, but I made all these myself. No chefs were bribed in the making of these sweets”, she commented quietly with another polite giggle and then wandered off to the next student, leaving me to my confusion.
Had I just insulted her? Would it be wise to apologize? But how? Maybe a gift? But what could such a mysterious lady even appreciate?