Ascendance of a Bookworm

During the winter, the craftsmen of Haldenzel, who had probably worked desperately on their creations, were infuriated when Johan rejected their work with a simple remark: “It’s not made according to the blueprint.” Johan, on the other hand, stubbornly insisted, “A failure is a failure, no matter what,” showing a typical craftsman’s resolve as they glared at each other.

Both sides were not entirely wrong in their claims, but the tense atmosphere amidst the many nobles observing was far from desirable. Feeling the rising tension, I couldn’t help but step between them.

“Johan, please allow me to see as well. After all, the metal movable type was originally ordered by me.”

“Lady Rosemine...”

The surrounding murmurs from both craftsmen and nobles rose at my intrusion into the craftsmen’s domain, considering I was the lord’s adopted daughter and a guest. Yet, completely ignoring the unrest, I placed four metal movable types—both accepted and rejected—on the metal stand Johan was sorting and examined them from all angles.

“...Ah, indeed, this one is no good. This part, right?”

“Yes.”

Johan nodded at the spot I indicated. When comparing the accepted and rejected types like this, you could see subtle differences in inclination and length. These tiny discrepancies were fatal problems for metal movable type. I recalled that the types Johan first brought didn’t have these issues, and comparing them made me realize once again how skilled Johan truly was.

“With this much tilt, the characters will blur during printing, so it can’t be used. This one’s finishing on this part is sloppy; it will damage the paper during printing.”

“Huh!?”

I pointed at each small metal type to the Haldenzel blacksmiths and explained the rejected sections one by one.

The craftsmen’s expressions revealed thoughts like, “It’s too detailed!” Since I was a noble, they just held back from saying it aloud.

“You might think it’s too detailed, but I always order Johan to be this meticulous. Metal movable type is not something where ‘this much is fine’ leniency is allowed.”

The craftsmen answered weakly with a sigh, and I shifted my gaze to Johan.

“...Johan, this kind of thing is common among craftsmen, but you’re seriously lacking in explanation. Maybe at the Ehrenfest workshop, it was enough to reject work by simply saying it doesn’t match the blueprint, and people there know you’re not very talkative. But this is Haldenzel. If someone is making metal movable type for the first time, you have to teach them in detail how and which parts differ, or they probably won’t understand.”

“But the blueprint...”

“Not everyone can read blueprints. Even if they can read the numbers like you, they might not understand the fine notes. Also, clients demanding the precision I require are rare, right? If they’re inexperienced, they probably don’t know how precise the work needs to be.”

Johan suddenly looked up as if startled.

Used to being assigned only work requiring high precision, Johan probably assumes it’s natural to make things exactly according to the blueprint, with no deviation whatsoever. But even at Ehrenfest, Johan’s work is special.

“...Rosemine, to me, they all look the same—are there really differences?”

Wilfried, who had quietly come up behind us, was looking at the metal types on the stand.

“Yes, Brother Wilfried. If you look like this, I think you can tell.”

I arranged four accepted and four rejected types side by side and stacked for him to see. Wilfried narrowed his eyes and examined them.

“This clump here looks slightly lower.”

“Brother, please show me as well.”

Wilfried kindly let me take my turn, and Charlotte looked at the metal types intently, deeply interested.

I carefully explained the printing mechanism to them, detailing why such tiny differences matter. The Haldenzel blacksmiths listened with solemn faces. Johan usually makes perfect types, so he’s never been explained this meticulously before. The initial lack of explanation might have been my fault.