After more than an hour of sightseeing and stopping by almost every street vendor, they finally arrived at their destination—a small wooden house, indistinguishable from the others around it. "Are you sure this is the place?" Bella asked, sounding uncertain.
"...Yes, of course," Ella replied, knocking on the door to appear more confident.
...
Several seconds passed, and no one answered. "Maybe it's the next house," Bella suggested.
"No, I counted the houses after passing the church. I know it's this one." Ella knocked again, this time more forcefully. The door creaked open, revealing an old man who was mid-curse.
"May the fires of hell burn— Oh, milady! Forgive me for such words!" The man's demeanor changed instantly as he recognized her.
"Are you Tresch?" Ella asked.
"Yes, I am. How can I help you, milady?" The old man was sweating, visibly anxious after realizing he had just cursed in front of someone of nobility.
"I came here because someone told me you have a book about math."
"A book? I'm sorry, milady, but my memory isn't what it used to be. Could you tell me more about this book and who informed you about it? You see, I'm a mathematician, so I own a few books on the subject."
"The man who told me is called Robert. He said to find you and ask for this specific book."
"Mr. Robert?! Oh, please, come in! Yes, yes, I know him." Both girls, along with one of the guards, followed the man inside. In the middle of the room, a table cluttered with parchments, papers, and small books caught their attention.
Wow! I never thought someone not of noble birth could afford books and paper. Both girls, accustomed to the luxurious life inside the mansion, thought in unison.
"Forgive the mess. I wasn't expecting such an esteemed visit," Tresch said, embarrassed.
"Don't worry, I came here uninvited and unannounced, so I'm the one who should apologize," Ella responded politely.
"Please, there's no need for that. So, Robert mentioned the book, right? It's this one." The old man pushed aside some parchments covering a small book before picking it up. "I beg your pardon, but did he tell you why he wanted it?"
"We're going to make copies of it. The newly built device can easily produce many copies," Ella explained.
"Really?! Oh my God, this is unbelievable!" Tresch exclaimed, his excitement confusing Ella, who looked to Bella for an explanation. Bella could only shrug in response.
"This is a dream come true, milady. Since Mr. Robert gave us all this knowledge, we've been studying it day and night, trying to grasp all the nuances. In the meantime, I've been making copies of the book because such incredible knowledge cannot be lost," Tresch said, brimming with pride.
Ella took the book and examined it. The leather cover was slightly larger than her palm. Opening it, she instantly regretted it, as the sight of all those numbers made her head spin.
"I've added at least three more pages of my interpretations, explanations, and examples. This way, I think it will be easier for others to understand," Tresch explained, clearly proud of his contribution.
"That's... great. Now, if you'll excuse me, we'll be heading back. Thank you, sir, for giving us this book," Ella said, ready to leave.
"Ah... um... Miss Ella, this book is very important to me, so..." Tresch hesitated.
"Oh, you want payment? Bella, give him three coins," Ella said, misinterpreting his hesitation as a request for money. What was I thinking, taking this book without paying? she chastised herself. Bella retrieved a small pouch from her robes and handed Tresch three silver coins.
"...N-no... A... Alright, but I just have one request, if I may, milady," Tresch stammered.
"Say it," Ella responded, curious.
"Could you write my name alongside Robert's?" Tresch asked, his request catching Ella off guard. What does he have to do with this? she wondered.
"Don't you know it was he who wrote this? Oh! Milady, everything in this book, aside from my notes, was given to us by him! Can you believe it? Someone so young, and yet he knows more about math than me and my colleagues," Tresch said, clearly impressed.
"W-Wait, are you telling me..." Ella lifted the book to eye level. "Yes. Robert is the author of this book," Tresch confirmed.
Rafael lay on his bed, bored out of his mind. It's been hours... and I've done nothing... Damn, what I wouldn't give to play my games right now. He had lost track of how many hours he had spent staring at the wooden ceiling of his room.
"To hell with this!" he muttered, standing up and heading directly to a particular well-crafted door. A man, more like a butler, stood guard in front of it. "Is Baron Frederic inside?"
"He doesn't want to be disturbed," the butler replied curtly, not even bothering to look at Rafael. From his perspective, Rafael was just another random cleric, hardly someone important enough to warrant interrupting the baron.
"I need to speak with him. It's important," Rafael insisted.
"Leave. He doesn't want to be..."
"It's important! It's about the security of this entire kingdom!" Rafael raised his voice, hoping to convey the urgency of the situation. But the butler merely scoffed, ignoring him.
"A random cleric thinks he knows how to protect the kingdom? Hmph. Go away before I make you," the butler sneered.
I swear I'm going to kill this piece of shit! Rafael seethed, barely restraining himself from attacking the man. Just then, the door behind them opened, and Frederic stepped out.
"What's going on here?"
"Sir, forgive your servant! This cleric interrupted your work. I will remove him at once," the butler said hastily.
"I have some ideas!" Rafael blurted out before the butler could grab him. He knew the servant wouldn't stand a chance if it came to a physical confrontation. "Leave him," Frederic ordered, walking back to his desk and leaving the door open for Rafael to follow.
Rafael shot a triumphant look at the butler before stepping inside and closing the door.
"What do you want?" Frederic asked, getting straight to the point.
"I have some ideas. Recently, I've been thinking about what we could do with all these new inventions—paper, cement, the printing press, and distillation," Rafael began.
"We?" Frederic asked, raising an eyebrow.