Chapter 5 #5
As he pulled out a chair to sit at the table, Maxi sat down across from him and rolled her eyes at his cynical remark.
The sorcerer was far more ill-tempered and sharp-tongued than his soft features suggested.
Though Ruth was nosier and more talkative than Riftan, both men had undeniably difficult personalities.
“Please record the transaction in the ledger,” Ruth instructed. “I’ll help you make any necessary corrections.”
“Al-All right.” Maxi obeyed without questioning his authority.
“This calculation is wrong,” he said, almost immediately.
“Oh, I’m s-sorry…”
Ruth silently observed as she scratched away with the quill. When she made another error, he pressed a hand to his forehead and tapped one corner of the ledger with the other. She hastily corrected the mistake, but he pointed again to the section below it.
“This unit here is wrong.”
“I-I’m sorry…”
“Try to keep the accounts as detailed as possible. We want to avoid confusion once they’re settled.”
“I-I understand.”
“Here, your spelling is wrong. And please refrain from scrawling. These are official records that will be passed down for generations.”
Maxi withered under his criticism. Not even the tutor that Duke Croyso hired had been so strict with her. When she finished writing, Ruth slid the ledger closer to himself and looked over the numbers as if he were reviewing her homework.
“This is acceptable.” He let out an exaggerated exhale as he closed the book. “Now that all of the issues have been addressed, my lady, I’d like to ask that you not disturb my sleep.”
Maxi rolled her eyes again. Did the sorcerer always sleep in the library? Hadn’t Riftan mentioned that his quarters were in the tower? But it was not her place to interfere, so she did not question him.
She hesitated a long while before speaking again. “We also d-decided to renovate the g-gardens for next spring.”
Ruth lifted his eyes to the ceiling in exasperation, but Maxi continued to look at him pleadingly. For days, she had toiled over this endeavor—alone, no less—and she was at her wits’ end. Having suffered all manner of humiliation, she had nothing else to lose.
“And r-repair the a-annex,” she added meekly.
Ruth clutched his head, regretting that he had ever offered his assistance.
—
From then on, Ruth oversaw Maxi’s bookkeeping.
Every day, she would enter the library and silently hover over him as he slept in the corner, and every day, he would rise from his pile of books, grumbling that he should never have intervened in the first place.
Still, he studied the ledger meticulously and advised her on the purchases.
Though his advice bordered on nagging, his assistance proved to be invaluable, and Maxi found herself turning to him for even the most trivial problems.
When Maxi told him of her plans for the garden, however, he looked concerned.
“The servants will be troubled if you order the removal of the tree by the pavilion.”
“But it’s d-dead,” she said, confused. “It d-doesn’t even g-grow leaves.”
“Anatolians believe that nymphs inhabit trees, so they’re wary of uprooting them, even dead ones. Logging is considered sacrilegious. If you were to order that tree’s removal for aesthetic reasons, people would be horrified.”
“B-But…” Maxi trailed off, perplexed. “W-Wouldn’t they understand if w-we told them the t-tree would be used f-for fuel? Look how h-hideous it is.”
“They’d probably accept it.” Ruth rubbed his chin, the corners of his eyes crinkling. “If that tree wasn’t an oak.”
“W-What’s s-special about oak trees?”
“Anatolians hold dear the legend of Sir Rosem Wigrew, the first knight to have flown across the sky on a dragon. That hill is, supposedly, where Wigrew mounted his dragon before he set out for the last time.”
Ruth gestured to the steep hill outside the window as he spoke, and Maxi’s eyes went round.
Of course, she was familiar with the legend of Wigrew, the man to whom God had granted the holy sword Ascalon to end the war against darkness—the very hero who had united the western realms under the banner of the Roemian Empire before ascending to the heavens.
He was a recurring figure in children’s bedtime stories, and the scene of Wigrew flying into the sky on a white dragon had been immortalized in countless ballads and paintings.
Maxi’s eyes sparkled with wonder at the knowledge that this place of legend was right outside her door. “Is the l-legend really t-true?”
“The Anatolians believe so, though there’s no historical evidence.”
“B-But what does th-that have to d-do with oak t-trees?”
“Well, the story goes that Wigrew fell in love with the nymph of that very oak tree, and the Anatolians believe that the nymph is still there, patiently waiting for his return. Every spring festival, all the maidens take to the hills to sing songs of praise for the nymph’s love and devotion.”
“S-So that’s why p-people here d-don’t cut down o-oak trees.”
Ruth nodded in confirmation. Still, Maxi could not help feeling that the dead tree marred the appearance of the castle’s main entrance.
“Would the p-people really be so d-disgruntled if I h-had it r-removed?”
“The people of Anatol revere Wigrew and anything associated with him. Most will likely resent the decision.”
Maxi frowned, remembering how they had cheered “Rosem Wigrew” the day of Riftan’s return.
Sensing her distress, Ruth sighed. “I’ll see if I can revive it. Once it grows leaves, it won’t look as bad as it does now.”
“You can d-do that?”
“The lives of plants are very different from those of humans. They sometimes appear dead when they’re simply dormant. If we infuse the tree with mana…” He pursed his lips with a dismissive scratch of his head, as if offering her an explanation would be too tedious.
“I can’t make guarantees, but we could at least spread the word that your ladyship has enlisted the help of a sorcerer to revive the sacred oak. Even if the experiment ends in failure, it will be enough to placate the servants.”
His cynical tone made her pause. “A-Are you suggesting I c-care too much about how the s-servants perceive me?”
“That wasn’t my intention. It’s natural for the lady of the castle to try to earn her servants’ respect, especially when she hasn’t been here long.”
Ruth’s answer was uncharacteristically kind, but the reassurance only made Maxi feel more puzzled than relieved. She had grown used to his backhanded remarks.
Her eyes traced nervous lines around the library, not sure where to direct her gaze. “Then…I s-suppose I’ll l-leave it to you.”
Immediately, Ruth looked as if he regretted volunteering for such a bothersome task.
“All I want, my lady, is for this tedious project to end so I can return to my routine in peace.”