Boundless Family Upgrades For The Deadbeat Lord

The announcement of Althoff Elementary Academy had created more excitement among the city’s families than Raymond had anticipated.

Throughout the Residential District, parents gathered around registration notices, discussing the possibility of sending their children to a proper school.

For some, the opportunity represented something they had dreamed of providing for years.

Others remained uncertain, particularly those whose children contributed to household work or helped their families earn a living.

By the beginning of the following week, the Civil Registry had established temporary enrollment desks inside the Administrative Hall and two residential gathering centers.

The response was immediate.

Long queues formed outside the registration desks each morning, with parents bringing children of different ages to provide their names, household information, and previous educational experience.

Eleanor Whitcombe personally supervised the arrangements alongside Alaric’s registry officials.

”Please make sure every family understands that registration doesn’t require an immediate payment,” Eleanor instructed one clerk as she examined the growing queue. ”Several parents have already turned away because they believed they needed to bring tuition money.”

The clerk nodded and adjusted the notice displayed beside his desk.

Nearby, a young mother named Helena stood holding her daughter’s hand while waiting to speak with a registry official.

”Is it really true that ordinary children can attend?” Helena asked when her turn arrived. ”My husband works at the sawmill, and we couldn’t possibly afford the tutors employed by wealthy merchants.”

The clerk smiled reassuringly. ”Yes, Mistress Helena. The Academy is being established for the children of Althoff. Basic instruction will be supported by the County, and assistance will be available for families who cannot afford essential supplies.”

Helena looked down at her daughter, whose eyes had widened with excitement.

”Did you hear that, Clara?” she asked softly. ”You might finally learn to read those storybooks you’ve been asking about.”

The little girl nodded enthusiastically, clutching her mother’s hand even tighter.

Not every conversation was equally cheerful.

At another registration desk, a farmer named Deren was discussing the enrollment arrangements with a visibly concerned expression.

”My eldest boy helps me with the fields,” Deren explained to the official. ”If he spends every morning sitting in a classroom, who’s supposed to help during planting and harvest?”

The official consulted the preliminary attendance guidelines before answering.

”The Administration is reviewing arrangements for agricultural families, Master Deren. Headmistress Whitcombe has proposed flexible attendance provisions during essential seasonal work, provided children continue receiving instruction.”

Deren frowned thoughtfully. ”I don’t object to the boy learning, mind you. Reading and arithmetic would certainly help him. But our crops won’t wait simply because the Academy has lessons.”

Eleanor, who had overheard the exchange, approached with a reassuring smile.

”Your concerns are understandable, Master Deren,” she explained. ”We’re not trying to prevent children from helping their families. However, we also want to ensure that household responsibilities don’t permanently deprive them of an education. We intend to establish reasonable arrangements that account for both needs.”

Deren considered her words before finally nodding.

”Then I’ll register him, Mistress Whitcombe,” he replied. ”Provided we can work something out when the harvest comes.”

Eleanor assured him that the Academy would communicate with families before finalizing its attendance policies.

Similar concerns appeared throughout the registration process.

Some parents worried about the cost of writing materials, while others questioned whether younger children could safely travel across busy streets. Several craftsmen wanted their apprentices to receive basic literacy instruction but feared losing valuable working hours.

By the end of the day, Eleanor had accumulated a substantial collection of questions requiring administrative decisions.

She brought them directly to Raymond.

”Your Excellency, the enthusiasm is encouraging,” Eleanor explained during their meeting, ”but we must address several practical concerns before opening. Otherwise, families may register their children only to withdraw them when difficulties arise.”

Raymond examined the reports while Alaric reviewed the preliminary enrollment figures.

”What are the biggest obstacles?” Raymond asked.

”Household labor, transportation, supplies, and scheduling,” Eleanor answered. ”Many families genuinely want their children educated, but their circumstances differ considerably. A merchant’s child and a farmer’s child may face entirely different difficulties attending lessons.”

Raymond nodded thoughtfully.

He had no intention of establishing an Academy that existed only to serve families wealthy enough to spare their children from daily responsibilities.

”Then let’s develop a practical policy,” he instructed. ”Basic education should remain accessible, but we need arrangements that reflect how people actually live.”

For the next two hours, the three discussed enrollment requirements, attendance expectations, and possible accommodations.

Eleanor proposed organizing younger pupils into regular morning classes, while older beginners could receive instruction through schedules suited to their circumstances.

She also recommended allowing limited seasonal adjustments for agricultural households, provided students completed assigned lessons and attended additional instruction when necessary.

Alaric raised concerns about maintaining consistent educational standards.

”If attendance becomes entirely optional, Your Excellency, some families may register their children without ever sending them,” he observed. ”The Academy must establish clear expectations.”

Raymond agreed.

”Then attendance should be expected, with reasonable exceptions rather than unrestricted absences,” he replied. ”Families facing genuine difficulties can discuss arrangements with the Academy. But we shouldn’t allow children to disappear from education simply because nobody follows up.”

Eleanor smiled approvingly.

”That would provide a workable balance, my Lord,” she answered. ”We can maintain attendance records and communicate directly with parents whenever difficulties arise.”

The Administration also agreed to provide assistance with basic writing materials for households unable to afford them.

Rather than distributing expensive supplies indiscriminately, the Academy would maintain a modest stock of essential materials and issue them according to documented need.

Raymond approved the arrangement immediately.

”Education shouldn’t become another burden that poor families cannot afford,” he declared. ”We’ll keep the system practical and make sure the supplies actually reach the children who need them.”

Transportation presented another challenge.

Talia Voss was subsequently consulted regarding safe routes connecting the Academy to surrounding neighborhoods. She recommended completing pedestrian access along the nearest principal roads and placing clear crossing points near the school grounds.

Darric also agreed to coordinate occasional Watch patrols around the busiest approaches during arrival and dismissal periods.

With those arrangements underway, the enrollment process continued.

Over the following days, more families submitted applications. Some children arrived wearing their finest clothes, while others appeared shy and uncertain about entering an institution unlike anything they had previously experienced.

The Academy had not opened yet, but its existence was already changing conversations throughout Althoff.

Parents who had never learned to read were beginning to imagine their children possessing opportunities beyond their own.

Meanwhile, Raymond found himself considering someone much closer to home.

That evening, Lily entered his study carrying the following day’s schedule.

”Young Master, Mistress Marianne says you’ve been working too late again,” Lily announced, placing the notebook upon his desk. ”She also said that if you skip dinner, she’ll personally come here and drag you downstairs.”

Raymond chuckled.

”That sounds exactly like Marianne,” he replied. ”Tell her I’ll be there shortly. But first, Lily, there’s something I want to discuss with you.”

Lily looked up curiously.

”Is something wrong, Young Master?” she asked, clutching her notebook.

”Nothing at all,” Raymond assured her. ”I was thinking about the Elementary Academy. Have you considered attending when it opens?”

Lily blinked in surprise.

”Me, Young Master?” she asked, pointing toward herself. ”But I’m your personal maid. Who would bring your schedules and remind you about your meetings?”

Raymond smiled at her earnest concern.

”I’m fairly certain I can survive a few hours without someone reminding me how irresponsible I am,” he replied. ”Besides, Marianne can help arrange your duties around the lessons. You wouldn’t have to abandon your responsibilities.”

Lily lowered her gaze toward the notebook.

”I know some letters already, Young Master,” she admitted quietly. ”Mistress Marianne has been teaching me whenever she has time. But I still struggle with longer words, and sometimes I can’t understand everything written in your schedules.”

Raymond’s expression softened.

”Then that’s an excellent reason to attend,” he answered. ”You could improve your reading, learn arithmetic, and study alongside other children your age. There’s much more to life than carrying my paperwork around.”

Lily considered the suggestion for several moments.

”Would I really be allowed to go, Young Master?” she asked, her eyes brightening. ”Even though I’m a maid?”

”Of course,” Raymond replied firmly. ”The Academy is being built for Althoff’s children, and you’re one of them. Your work here doesn’t make you any less deserving of an education.”

A delighted smile spread across Lily’s face.

”Then I want to attend, Young Master!” she exclaimed. ”I’ll study properly, and I promise I won’t neglect my duties!”

Raymond laughed.

”Good. Although I’d prefer you concentrate on learning rather than worrying about my schedule during lessons.”

Lily nodded enthusiastically before hurrying away to share the news with Marianne.

Raymond watched her leave, feeling unexpectedly satisfied.

If the Academy could provide opportunities for children like Lily, then every gold coin invested in its construction would be worthwhile.

The following afternoon, Mara arrived with another encouraging report.

”Your Excellency, the Academy’s main structures are nearly complete,” she announced. ”The classrooms have received their roofing, the interior partitions are finished, and the remaining work concerns fittings, inspections, and the surrounding grounds.”

Raymond looked up immediately.

”So we’re approaching the final stage?”

”Yes, my Lord,” Mara confirmed with a pleased smile. ”If material deliveries remain consistent, we should be able to complete the remaining construction work according to schedule.”

Raymond examined the report with growing anticipation.

The teachers were being recruited, the enrollment system was taking shape, and hundreds of families were preparing for an opportunity that had never existed in Althoff before.

Now the Academy itself was almost ready.

Soon, the city’s children would have a place to learn.