Cups for the Temple

As I turn the page and run my gaze across the carefully arranged letters, a new, wonderful world begins to shape itself within my mind. This is reading. This is true bliss. And yet, Hartmut chose to take that bliss away.

“Lady Rozemyne, I wish to be granted a cup.”

I snapped out of my reading session, unable to process what he was saying. I clearly remembered him telling me that I should leave the scholarly duties to him and just enjoy my books. He then started working through some documents, and I happily obliged and immersed myself in books in my chambers. That was until he decided to interrupt me.

Whatever happened to the documents he was working on, and why was he asking me for… tableware? Surely the documents didn’t mention tableware, did they?

Wondering if something came up while Hartmut was working, I turned my gaze to Philine, who was supposed to be working alongside him. However, she only nervously glanced around, seemingly as perplexed as I was.

“I’m not entirely sure what you mean…” I said. “Are you not satisfied with the current tableware we have in the temple?”

The temple had all the tableware one might want for a tea break, but it was possible that it simply wasn’t up to the standard of an archnoble like Hartmut. Although it had been a while since he started visiting the temple, maybe that’s just how long it took his discomfort to reach the boiling point.

“If you don’t want to use the temple’s tableware, I don’t mind you bringing your own…”

“That’s not the case. I simply wish for you to bestow upon me a cup, as you do with your attendants.”

“Um…?”

Bestow? Do I do that? I tilted my head to the side in confusion, but then Fran hesitantly raised his hand.

“May I, Lady Rozemyne?” he asked.

“Yes, Fran. Do you know what he’s talking about?”

“What I believe Lord Hartmut is referring to is the temple attendants’ tableware. Gil and Fritz mentioned that he was asking them questions about the cups they use in the workshop.”

The tableware Fran, Gil, and other temple attendants were using was one of the things I newly ordered when I became the High Bishop. Although the tableware would only be used by the attendants, I was strongly encouraged to have it befit my status as an archduke’s daughter, so I had it made with the Rozemyne Workshop crest on it. The tableware was wooden, much like the sort ordinary commoners use, and unlike mine, which was specially made at the High Priest’s orders. Still, it technically was something I had given to my attendants.

“It’s only natural to provide all the necessities for one’s temple attendants,” I explained. “I don’t think it could be called bestowing in the ordinary sense…”

In the world of nobility, bestowing normally implied a reward for some great achievement, but this was nothing like that. My words were meant as a soft rejection, but Hartmut refused to yield.

“If it can be considered part of the temple’s necessities, then I would like to have it all the more. I would be using it in the temple, after all.”

“Err… So, in short, you wish to have the same tableware as Fran and the others? It’s not exactly meant for archnobles…”

It would be rather odd for an archnoble like Hartmut to drink out of a wooden cup like a commoner. And yet, my attempt to appeal to his noble pride also fell flat.

“The material is of no importance to me. I only wish for a cup with your personal crest on it.” Hartmut stared at me intensely with his orange eyes, overwhelming me with his single-minded determination to obtain what he desired.

“Um, Lady Rozemyne,” Fran spoke up. “If you bestow tableware upon Lord Hartmut, I believe it would be wise to order something entirely new. I would feel much too awkward seeing a noble retainer drink from the same sort of cup as myself.”

Hearing Fran’s words, Hartmut exclaimed that it was a wonderful proposal, and I had to agree. If he went on to gloat about a cup that his Lady had “bestowed upon” him, and it were made of wood, then everyone around would assume either that I’m too stupid to know not to give commoner items to my noble retainers, or that I’m a miser who was not willing to spend more than the bare minimum on a bestowed item.

”…Philine, would you like a cup too?”

“Um… Me?”

“Yes. I don’t think it would be a good look if I gave only one of my retainers special treatment. Instead of bestowing a cup upon Hartmut alone, I would prefer to treat it as a necessity and provide one to all my noble retainers. However, if the guest cups we currently have at the temple are sufficient for you, I don’t see the point…”

It would be a lot more effort than it’s worth if Hartmut is the only one who wants this. Sure, it’s only tableware, but I would have to talk to the workshop to have it made. And that means less time for books. A real tragedy.

“I…” Philine paused, unsure what to say, as her gaze jumped between me and Hartmut.

“Hartmut, I can see you smiling,” I said. “Stop trying to pressure her!”

“By no means, Lady Rozemyne! I do not need to pressure her. I already know that Philine does want a cup.”

“And how exactly would you know that?”

Hartmut spoke with absolute confidence, despite Philine having yet to say a single word. I was not going to allow him to influence her decision with his archnoble smirk. And yet, Hartmut’s composure didn’t crumble under my glare.

“No subject would ever not wish for a gift from their Lord.”

His matter-of-fact delivery of the line left me at a loss for words.

“Um, Lady Rozemyne,” Philine spoke before I could recover. “Hartmut is right; I would be happy to receive anything from you. More so if it’s something you make specifically for us. I have never had a personal cup before.”

Back when she lived with her father, Jonsara would take away all of her possessions. Even at the castle, most of what she had was either lent to her or handed down. As I recalled just how little Philine really owned, I was overcome with the urge to give her a new cup.

“Very well, Philine. For you, I’ll have the cups made.”

“Ah… Thank you so much! I’ll treat mine with utmost care.”

“No, Lady Rozemyne!” Hartmut interjected. “You were meant to say you would do it for me…”

He let out an exaggerated sigh, but quickly returned to his usual self as soon as we began discussing potential designs. Apparently, Hartmut had been thinking about this ever since he saw Gil’s cup several days ago, and he began listing off his ideas.

“If you intend to provide cups for each of your retainers, what do you think of having them made in four divine colors, one for each of the birth seasons? That way, if you gain more retainers, you will only need to look at the color of their ring to prepare a personal cup for them.”

“That’s a good idea,” I nodded. “If we consider the cups to be part of the temple’s necessities, then they indeed will have to be made for each future retainer, so it helps if we make the process as simple as possible.”

“I understand that you will be putting the Rozemyne Workshop’s crest on one side of the cups,” said Philine, “but what about the opposite side?”

“Why not simply have a second crest there?” suggested Hartmut. “I would love to have as many of Lady Rozemyne’s personal crests as possible.”

“Hartmut, you’re unique in that regard.” I dismissed his opinion and turned to Philine for suggestions instead.

“If the cups will be painted according to the birth seasons, perhaps we could include the corresponding sigil of the gods? It would reinforce the idea that the sets are meant for the temple, and I could also see it creating the impression they are intended to aid in acquiring divine protections.”

“Being devout or offering prayers would do much more in terms of acquiring divine protections than putting a sigil on the cups, but I think it’s a great suggestion nonetheless.”

The symbols would also already be familiar to the nobility, as they are commonly used when drawing magic circles. As such, they would not look out of place as part of the design.

Eventually, with Hartmut’s and Philine’s help, we were able to settle on a final design. Hartmut was most pleased, indeed.

“Where should the cups be made, Lady Rozemyne? Of your exclusive workshops, to which would you send the order?”

I don’t know!

For my personal tableware, Karstedt and Ferdinand were the ones who handled all the complicated stuff. I hadn’t ordered anything myself, and I had no idea where to do so if I wanted to. However, I couldn’t just say, “Sorry, no clue!”

Fran? A bit of help here?!

I signaled to Fran with my eyes, and he immediately responded, placing his hand on the design that Hartmut and Philine had drawn up.

“I shall make a copy of this and consult the High Priest. He was the one who ordered Lady Rozemyne’s tableware before her baptism, and I would need to speak with him regarding the costs in any case.”

Thank you, Fran! I knew I could count on you!

“Please do,” I said softly. Yet, within my mind, I was vigorously applauding Fran’s situational awareness. “However, the High Priest only bestows gifts upon his retainers when they’ve done something exceptional, I can only hope he will allow this…”

“As you mentioned, it’s not a bestowal, but an everyday necessity,” said Hartmut. “Moreover, it’s something you have discussed and decided upon with your retainers, so even if Lord Ferdinand is your guardian, he won’t be able to dismiss it without a good reason.”

Oh, he would. Without a shred of mercy, he would. He’d summon me to the lecture room and crush my hopes and dreams.

Hartmut was only able to say that because he didn’t really know Ferdinand. In my carefree mind, however, “High Priest” and “harsh” had become synonyms.

◆

The next day, I was summoned to the lecture room. All within expectations.

“With regard to your request to make the cups…”

“Oh, it’s no good after all, is it? In that case, would you please let Hartmut know—”

I could easily come to terms with the rejection, but Hartmut would be a lot more stubborn, and I wanted Ferdinand to personally explain the reason for the rejection to him. But before I could finish my sentence, Ferdinand signaled me to stop.

“No, I have no issue with you making and distributing cups among your retainers.”

“Oh? Do you really mean it?”

“It’s a decision you came to after carefully considering your retainers’ needs, was it not?”

I mean, it was more about Hartmut putting pressure on me and me wanting to do something nice for Philine. I wouldn’t call it careful consideration…

But, of course, if I were to tell that to him, there would be no end to his scolding, so I simply smiled in response. It was good enough that I had his permission. Not everything always needs to be said.

“However,” Ferdinand continued, “Eckhart is now also requesting me to bestow a cup upon him. I wish you would put more thought into the repercussions of your decisions…”

And then he proceeded to lecture me regardless.

Why aren’t you blaming Hartmut for bringing this up in the first place, or Eckhart himself for jumping on the bandwagon? Why is it always me? How is this fair?