Chapter 97

Thursday’s schedule consists of Administration, Cooking, Penmanship, and Dyeing. Administration is with Mr. Sullivan, as recommended by Senior Rupert. However, it seems the wave of reform hasn’t reached the classes for Law and Administration just yet. I understand that an overnight overhaul is impossible, but it is rather disappointing.

“It sounds like Cooking has changed, though,” Princess Margaret noted. “The upperclassmen were making quite a fuss about it.”

“I had heard that you were guaranteed credits as long as you simply showed up in the past. I wonder how it has changed.”

The two of us tilted our heads in bewilderment as we shared breakfast. Well, we’ll find out once we attend. Deciding that thinking about it was pointless, Princess Margaret changed the subject.

“We take Penmanship together after lunch. My mother had strongly recommended it to me as well. She told me that writing with a beautiful hand is a vital accomplishment for a noble lady. But I found it terribly old-fashioned back then and refused to take it. Yes, Harriet had sneered that it was archaic, and I allowed myself to be influenced by her. Even though I constantly watched Mother pen letters with her own hand, I completely failed to grasp the significance of it at the time.”

If a noble lady were to receive a handwritten letter from the Queen, she would undoubtedly feel incredibly proud and overjoyed. But if the handwriting were atrocious, the entire gesture would be utterly ruined.

No matter where Princess Margaret ends up marrying, she will likely have countless occasions to write letters. Her mother surely recommended Penmanship out of worry that relying entirely on a scribe might sometimes be perceived as a lack of courtesy.

Though, as for me, I only chose it because I thought Western calligraphy looked so incredibly cool in my previous world. Ah, wait a moment. Doing transcription and calligraphy as a side job at home is a perfectly viable option too! Immediately pivoting to how I can make money might be one of my greatest flaws.

“Oh, that’s right,” Princess Margaret added. “We are to visit the royal palace on Friday. It seems the parents of Catherine and the others lodged a formal complaint with Mother regarding their dismissal from my entourage. A letter arrived instructing me to bring you along as well.”

While Princess Margaret looked completely unbothered, I was screaming “Ehhhh, this is a total disaster!” on the inside. Still, my manners have drastically improved thanks to a year of serving as an attendant.

“Is that so? Understood,” I replied, maintaining a perfectly casual facade.

I see absolutely no value in attending the Year 4, Class A homeroom period. Mr. Cuthbert really isn’t cut out to be a homeroom teacher. He barely passes along any notifications. This is the first time since entering the middle division that the students are split into specialized tracks, so plenty of them must be deeply agonizing over which mandatory or elective subjects to choose. Yet, he offers absolutely no guidance. Ah, is that why students like Caesar end up completely forgetting to register for their mandatory subjects? I lose myself in these distracting thoughts.

After all, sitting in the same room as Catherine and her group is incredibly grating on my nerves. Hostile glares keep flying at me like a flurry of arrows. I can easily deduce what is being whispered about me at their homes. While they are likely grumbling about Princess Margaret being utterly selfish, the core of their malice is undoubtedly concentrated on badmouthing me. Their parents would naturally restrain them from speaking ill of Princess Margaret. However, when it comes to slandering the daughter of the currently suspended Viscount Granger, they are probably accepting it as absolute truth and fueling each other’s fury.

If their complaints have reached the palace, the Queen might very well fire me from my post as an attendant, but if that happens, so be it. Having made peace with that outcome, I endure the venomous glares.

Mr. Sullivan’s Administration class turned out to be quite interesting. However, it is strictly taught in accordance with the textbook. Furthermore, since I already took the first Administration lecture with Mr. Patterson, the content covered was exactly the same.

As expected, the wave of reform has omitted Law and Administration. Incorporating a mock trial or a shadow cabinet would make it so fascinating, though. While the lectures are engaging, I think I will follow President Albert’s example when it comes to Law and Administration: I’ll simply memorize the textbooks word-for-word and grab my completion certificates. Unlike Mr. Patterson, Mr. Sullivan seems approachable enough that it shouldn’t be too difficult to ask him for the second- and third-year textbooks. I’ll drop by the staff room after school to ask for them.

Why am I so desperate to gather completion certificates? It’s not as if I was swayed by Mr. Kubrick’s intense recruitment for the mage track, but while I was staring intently at the schedule guide after testing out of Alchemy and Etiquette, my eyes happened to land on Herbology and Pharmacy.

You see, the original Patience tragically died of pneumonia. Because of that, I’ve always held a deep desire to be able to treat illnesses. However, healing in this world is strictly limited to Light, Wind, or Water magic. Illnesses, in particular, seem to fall under the domain of Light magic.

But my lifestyle magic is a bit unusual—after all, I can literally grow vegetables with it. If I can cultivate medicinal herbs, I could make a fortune—no, wait, if my family ever falls ill, I could simply brew medicine for them at an early stage. Yes, that’s exactly right. Making money is highly important too, of course.

Furthermore, Pharmacy comes as a set with Herbology. And the Pharmacy Club is located right next to the Alchemy Club. Choosing between the Handicraft Club, the Alchemy Club, and the Pharmacy Club is quite a dilemma. The one with the highest potential payout if I hit the jackpot is the Alchemy Club. The one that sounds the most delightful is the Handicraft Club. And the one that guarantees I will never struggle for an income in the future is the Pharmacy Club.

“Managing just the civil servant and domestic science tracks is already exhausting enough, so taking four electives on the mage track is absolute madness,” I mutter to myself, even as my hands actively search the schedule guide to see if the time slots for Herbology and Pharmacy happen to line up with my free periods.

Oh, look at that—they fit absolutely perfectly. I feel as if the universe is practically commanding me to take them. I had intended to use those free periods to do side jobs at home… but should I choose the immediate copper coins of today, or the 10 loams of the future? The choice is clear. I’m taking them!

Fourth period on Monday is Herbology, and third period on Wednesday is Pharmacy. However, submitting a course registration form without ever attending a single lecture makes me rather anxious. I stare intently at the schedule guide once more.

“First period on Friday is Pharmacy.” That slot is technically designated for Mr. Sullivan’s Law class, but I already took the first Law lecture with Mr. Patterson. Therefore, I can use this slot to test the waters. If it seems entirely beyond me or turns out to be utterly boring, I can simply pass on it.

Mr. Sullivan, please forgive me. I’ve already sat through the first lecture for Law, and I did listen diligently to your casual anecdotes. However, perhaps due to the core nature of the subject, the class involves a massive amount of reading straight from the textbook, so my mind inevitably drifted off to other things entirely. Therefore, yes, I intend to just memorize the text and grab my certificate.

My course registration form now straddles three entirely different tracks. I wonder if I am being far too greedy? Perhaps it would be best to discuss this with my father.

He might look at me in sheer utter astonishment and ask, “What on earth do you want to become?”

Yes, initially, I had chosen the civil servant track with the single-minded goal of becoming a lady attendant or a civil official, just as Patience had originally intended.

Then, even though I dreaded the idea, I took the domestic science track to fulfill my duties as Princess Margaret’s attendant. Yet, subjects like Weaving, Dyeing, Penmanship, Embroidery, and Foreign Languages have turned out to be thoroughly fascinating.

On top of that, I found myself drawn to Alchemy, registered for Magic Arrays, and to top it all off, I’ve now developed a burning interest in Herbology and Pharmacy.

For my original civil servant track, I plan to test out of Administration and Law via rote memorization. Plus, Business Management is highly engaging. I haven’t attended World History or Geography yet, but if they are taught by the teachers Senior Rupert recommended, I’m sure they will be fascinating. As for Economics, that class is on Friday, so I don’t know what to expect yet.

In my previous world, I graduated from the faculty of business administration. I only chose it because it gave me an advantage in job hunting. Well, I managed to secure a job successfully, but since I ended up in another world, I haven’t been able to utilize that knowledge at all. The only reason I didn’t choose Economics back then was because mathematics was a mandatory requirement. I wonder how it is handled in this fantasy world? It leaves me a bit anxious.

While I was lost in these deep reflections, the class period came to an end. I am filled with a profound sense of guilt toward the teacher.