TOPWL 149

“Why do you think the students aren’t attending classes, sir?”

Schmidt gave a bitter smile.

“They probably think education isn’t all that necessary. Life is harsh—it makes studying feel like a luxury.”

“But… why do they feel education isn’t necessary?”

“Because, in truth, it isn’t. Learning the language is helpful, sure, but not knowing it doesn’t keep you from getting by. Same with math. Foreign languages? Most of them live their entire lives in the Empire—no need for that. And science or history… well, those don’t mean much here either.”

“But the education rate in the capital was fairly high.”

“The capital is a warm inland region. There are plenty of nobles, too. There, what you learn can affect your job, even your pay. But this is the north. Work is limited. A farmer’s child becomes a farmer. A blacksmith’s child becomes a blacksmith.”

He glanced at Khalid as he continued.

“Thanks to His Grace, the city’s poverty rate has dropped dramatically. There are hardly any children going hungry, or elderly left untreated. But can we say people here have freedom in their careers? Not really. The whole family has to work with everything they’ve got, scrimp and save just to survive the winter. The land itself is harsh—there’s no helping that.”

“Don’t they want to go to the capital or move to another town if they study hard enough?”

Schmidt shook his head.

“They likely don’t. The North is a cold and barren place. His Grace made it livable. There are fewer taxes here than in other territories, and the welfare is excellent. Why would they want to leave that behind?”

“But wouldn’t they want to move somewhere warmer, since this place is so cold and harsh?”

At Yudit’s question, Schmidt gave a troubled smile.

“Your Highness, moving to another place is a once-in-a-lifetime risk for commoners. Those whose bellies are full and backs are warm—they don’t long for more.”

As the conversation went on, Yudit came to understand the core of the issue: Khalid was too good at managing his domain. Because of that, the people had grown content and couldn’t even imagine going elsewhere.

“Don’t nobles, knights, or wealthy families have children living here too?”

“Yes, they do. But they usually hire private tutors or send their children to separate schools made just for them.”

To them, attending the same school as commoners would be unacceptable.

Yudit gave a small sigh and looked up at the ceiling. It was high and neatly finished. Khalid had said he’d built the school with care. It would be nice if it were used for something meaningful.

“Then what kind of work do the people here usually do?”

At Yudit’s question, Schmidt stroked his white beard for a moment.

“They work in a wide variety of fields. The sea’s nearby, so some are in fishing, shipbuilding, trade, and commerce. The coastal area is a bit warmer, so livestock and farming are done there, too. And we’ve got mines.”

Yudit kept asking questions, and Schmidt answered them patiently.

By the time they wrapped up, the sun had already dipped below the ridgeline.

Schmidt and the other teachers weren’t particularly passionate, but they were decent people.

Even after returning home, Yudit stayed up all night drafting a proposal. He eventually fell asleep at his desk like someone knocked out.

“…Khalid?”

Still half-asleep, Yudit called out to him.

Khalid responded by quietly approaching.

A faint metallic sound followed.

Yudit cracked his eyes open to see Khalid in silver armor, pulling on his gauntlets.

“You’re leaving today?”

“Yeah. I’ll just be scouting the area—I won’t be long.”

“Be careful.”

“Don’t worry about me. I’m more worried about you.”

“I’m fine too.”

Khalid reached out and gave Yudit’s nose a gentle pinch with his bare hand.

“Fine? I moved you from your desk three hours ago. You were passed out.”

“Mmm…”

“I already told Shane. If you collapse or start getting nosebleeds, I’ll lock you away for three months and forbid you from doing anything.”

“…That’s way too harsh.”

“It means don’t overwork yourself. You have a habit of getting too caught up in one thing.”

“…”

“Even when you’re busy, don’t skip your self-defense, swordsmanship, and horseback training. Those are more important than you think.”

He cupped Yudit’s cheek with his thumb, gazing down at him.

Yudit leaned into the touch and looked up at him.

“Don’t be too hard on yourself. The person you’re the harshest toward is someone I wouldn’t trade for anything in the world.”

“…Alright. I won’t be.”

At Yudit’s promise, Khalid smiled and pressed a soft kiss to his forehead.

“Get some more sleep.”

When Yudit awoke again, the only thing left in the room was a faint trace of morning light.

***

After finishing his work at the publishing company, Yudit headed to the school with his proposal in hand. When he opened the door to the staff room, Schmidt welcomed him.

“I’ve written up a proposal,” Yudit said, taking a deep breath. “Would you mind looking it over when you have a moment?”

“Let’s take a look now. I just wrapped up my work.”

Schmidt accepted the proposal from Yudit and adjusted his monocle. As he read, the gray in his eyes, touched faintly with blue, gradually sharpened with interest.

“Did Your Highness write this yourself?”

“Yes. I don’t know much about administration, so there are probably a lot of clumsy parts. I’d appreciate your guidance.”

Using the proposal as a base, the two of them continued their conversation. What Yudit had brought was closer to a reform plan—one that would completely shift the school’s identity. From a school focused on the basics of reading, math, and science, it would be transformed into a vocational school that taught agriculture, fishing, and commerce.

“Have you done something like this before?”

“No.”

“You’ve got a talent for planning, Your Highness. Especially this part here—I hadn’t considered it, but it’s an excellent idea.”

The section Schmidt pointed to mentioned employing retired individuals who had worked in relevant fields as teachers—particularly those who had been disabled and could no longer do physical labor.

“I just thought… it’d be better to learn from someone who’s actually done the work, rather than someone who hasn’t.”

“Indeed. That’s very true. How did you come up with this?”

“I thought about what you said. A farmer’s child becomes a farmer, and a blacksmith’s child becomes a blacksmith. But people don’t only have one child. Maybe a blacksmith’s child wants to be a farmer. Or a farmer’s child wants to be a merchant. If they’ve been given a livable space, then I think how they live within it becomes the next important question.”

Yudit paused for a moment, then added,

“And I’d like to raise the average age of the students here—so that no one is kept from attending school just because they’re older.”

“There was never a strict age barrier to begin with,” Schmidt replied. “But with a vocational school, the threshold will naturally lower. If someone knows a teacher personally, they might be encouraged to come, even just to listen.”

“I’m glad to hear that. Also, I’d like to add one more practical subject.”

“What sort of subject?”

“Contracts and law. Sewing. Fair pricing for goods. Information about different occupations, what education or experience is needed to pursue them—things like that.”

Yudit spoke without hesitation. Schmidt smiled, his face crinkling with deep lines.

“In other words, the things needed to live.”

“Exactly. And… even though I’m proposing a vocational school, I still want younger children to receive a basic education first.”

“What age are you thinking?”

“At least eleven.”

It was then that Viscount Bashur, who had been stroking his beard, chimed in.

“Children here often start working at a very young age. You know, even six-year-olds sell potatoes and tomatoes.”

“The slums in the capital are much the same. But I still believe that children of that age should be learning something else.”

After a moment of thought, Bashur nodded.

“In that case, let us consider it together.”

“Can I help too?”

A voice from behind startled Yudit. He turned around to find Selena, Yasin, Pavron, and Yvonne standing there.

“When did you all arrive?”

“This morning,” Selena replied. “We heard His Highness was at the school, so we came straight here.”

It hadn’t even been a week since they’d last met, but because they’d spent so much time together, seeing them again filled him with warmth.

“You must be tired from the journey—you should rest.”

“I’m tired of resting. I spent too long sitting in the carriage. Walking here finally made me feel human again.”

At Selena’s exaggerated complaint, Yudit couldn’t help but smile.

“Where’s Hans?”

“He said he was too tired and wanted to rest in his room,” Pavron answered in his place.

Yudit nodded and led them to the table. The long table easily accommodated them all. Schmidt brought over a tray and set down a cup of tea in front of each of them.

“Well then,” he said, “shall we begin the meeting?”