Noble Lady Reformation Guide - Chapter 120: Characters (1)

The arrogant Lord Robain gazed at the dawn over the mountains of Rotenheim.

The sunlight filtering through the morning air seemed to symbolize a kind of hope.

Feeling as though he had reached a turning point in his life, which until now had been like turbulent waves, he lowered his bloodstained sword for a moment and took a deep breath.

The monsters had been exterminated, the family crisis was over, and life would go on.

In the end, all he held in his hand was a bloodied sword and a bit of honor. He wondered where his true happiness lay in that life.

The young and arrogant noble finally understood.

Whenever he wished to rest from his journey through life, that humble girl who always patted his back with a steady gaze would return to his mind.

Walking unsteadily with his wounded body among the blood-soaked corpses of monsters, the arrogance that once reached the heavens faded away.

And at the end of that long, dark trial, he wandered, searching for the small woman he had wanted to hold in his arms.

He remembered that moment when they had laughed together under a blanket in a hut on a stormy night, and he also saw himself pushing her away because he could not overcome their difference in status.

At the end of the battlefield, he found the girl covered in blood, lying among the corpses of trolls, and fell to his knees before her.

Lord Robain’s chin trembled as he began to sob, holding Tracy’s body.

As he embraced her with trembling arms, the blood flowing from the girl’s abdomen ran down his forearm. With his warrior’s experience, Robain instantly understood that the wound was beyond any hope of aid.

Miraculously, Tracy opened her eyes and saw the arrogant noble weeping. With her weakened body, the girl managed to touch Sir Robain’s face and gave him a faint smile.

“I’m glad I could see you one last time,” she whispered.

Robain, through his tears, spoke to her.

“Forgive me for rejecting you. Forgive me for letting my pride and the difference in our status force you to sacrifice yourself.”

“I hesitated to marry you because of my family’s will, and I pushed you away. Yet, you stayed on the battlefield for me.”

As Robain poured his apologies upon Tracy, she simply smiled sweetly, even as she bled out.

“Instead of apologizing, tell me that you love me, Sir Robain.”

“Even if my journey through life was short, I want to hear you say that you love me before I go.”

At those words, Robain, crying, repeated to her again and again,

“I love you, Tracy. You were the only meaning left in my empty life. It wasn’t because of my family’s will or our difference in status that I let you go. You were the only woman I ever truly loved.”

At those words, Tracy smiled one last time, as if she were happy, and slowly let go of his hand.

Robain looked with trembling eyes at the girl, now without strength.

Soon, the vitality disappeared from those eyes that still smiled as if in peace.

Even so, the soft corners of her lips, slightly curved, seemed to tell Lord Robain, “It’s all right.”

That smile lodged in the noble’s heart like a thorn.

Robain wept over and over, holding the small lifeless body in his arms.

The war against the monsters was over.

The sun rose radiant, dispersing the dreadful air of the battlefield that had lasted all night.

And among it all, one man remained alone, sobbing.

Tap.

“…..”

Later that night, in the noble district of Ebelstein, in Denise’s private residence.

Denise set down her pen with a snap, leaned back in her chair, and pursed her lips in thought.

She was in the middle of writing the final volume of her self-proclaimed epic, The Arrogant Lord Robain, after years of research and reflection.

Lord Robain, tormented between his status, his family, and his love for Tracy.

In the end, he wasted his time in anguish and let Tracy go—a tragic love story hurtling toward its conclusion.

When she imagined the scene in her mind, she felt quite satisfied, but when she wrote it down, something was missing.

She wondered if she was ending the story on too somber a note, but if she didn’t, the message she wanted to convey wouldn’t come across completely.

“…”

Denise crossed her arms and sat in thought.

In the end, it was something she had forgotten over time—what she truly wanted to convey.

When she asked herself what she wanted to express with The Arrogant Lord Robain, she arrived at a somewhat embarrassing answer.

She didn’t really know. She just wanted to write a story about a handsome, talented, cold-blooded noble who showed warmth only toward his beloved—a romantic tale that would make the heart race.

How much philosophical depth or inner message could there be in something that was, at its core, merely the expression of a personal desire?

If she started looking for profound meaning in something so simple, she felt her back burn with shame.

So when she imagined the white-haired mercenary reading it seriously, she couldn’t help but shudder.

If it were a distant reader, someone she would never meet, it would be different.

But showing this to her teacher, whom she saw every day, was more embarrassing than showing him her naked body.

Even so, the young woman couldn’t help but stare once more at what she had written, lost in reflection.

She wanted to find a better direction for her work.

Though she pretended to be lazy and indifferent to everything, when she held a pen, her eyes became more serious than anyone’s.

However, it seemed difficult to find a clear answer.

Lord Robain’s torment and inner conflict were not born from a deep understanding of the human soul, but rather from a collection of striking ideas gathered from various places and molded to seem convincing.

Even so, it was said that the characters in a story inevitably reflect the mind of their creator.

In the tragic love story between the noble’s suffering, the will of the family, and Tracy’s low status, Denise couldn’t help but wonder what she should reveal and what she should conceal.

Finally, Denise sighed deeply, gathered her shining silver hair, and collapsed onto her bed.

The night was long, and there was plenty of time—there was no need to worry yet.

Come to think of it, it was time to use Aiselin’s visit as an excuse to observe the baron’s mansion in Ravenclaw.

“…”

Immersed in her creation and wandering through another world, when she finally returned to the present, the weight of reality pressed down on her chest.

It was something that had already been decided in several family meetings.

As an agent of the Beltus family, Denise was to find a way to bring down Baron Dereck Lydorf Ravenclaw.

It would be useful to find his weaknesses, take advantage of trivial mistakes, and if possible, inflict significant damage.

Ideally, he would be ruined and reduced to a commoner who could be used again.

If that happened, Grand Duke Beltus would greet her with a more satisfied smile than ever.

Then, Denise’s peaceful life would be assured, and her authority within the family would be guaranteed.

Although Denise had received great help from Dereck in times of distress and confusion, there was no alternative.

Betrayal and conspiracy were far too common in that ruthless aristocratic society.

Even the children of the most prestigious families suspected one another and engaged in psychological warfare, so a rural baron on the outskirts would be no exception.

Denise took a deep breath, covered her face with her hands, and exhaled heavily.

“I hadn’t planned a scene like this…”

Was it a story from her novel—or from reality?

Even Denise herself could no longer clearly tell which was which.

*

After the great fall of the Duplain family, the noble power of southwestern Ebelstein was divided between the Belmierd and Beltus families.

That autumn, Countess Rodelia, who had directly received her title of countess from Emperor Guttrel, rose once again; however, she was still a recent force and could not yet compare to the authority of the other two houses.

It would take at least five years, or even fifteen, for her to reach their level. Until then, Belmierd and Beltus would continue to act as the true rulers of the southwest of the continent.

This situation was reflected in the central city of Ebelstein, and the Rosea Salon was, in practice, the domain of Ellen and Denise.

Ellen had been born with the temperament of a leader.

She possessed a natural talent for guiding her followers and leading groups. Though still young and inexperienced in some areas, it seemed certain that it wouldn’t be long before she became a lady like her father, Count Belmierd.

On the other hand, Denise’s personality was difficult to understand.

She wasn’t completely disinterested in political matters, but she also didn’t take decisive steps forward.

Occasionally, when important topics arose, she expressed her opinions clearly; but in general, she maintained a non-interventionist attitude.

As a result, Denise had few followers, and her authority within the family was minimal compared to Ellen’s.

Ellen was considered the true power of the Belmierd family, while Denise was merely a beautiful and intelligent daughter.

The fact that she had lost the position of heir to her timid and narrow-minded older brother Robenalt was symbolic.

Although Grand Duke Beltus was obsessed with the principle of primogeniture, he must have realized that Robenalt lacked the ability to lead the Beltus family.

By now, the key figures of the southwestern continent already knew that Denise did not have the temperament of a ruler, but she was cunning and quick-witted, which made her more suitable as a chess piece.

In fact, Denise tended to be lazy and preferred to do things in the simplest way possible, yet she always produced results.

Being diligent and being competent were not always equivalent concepts.

In truth, a lazy but efficient person is valuable to have under your command; on the other hand, a diligent but incompetent one is far more dangerous.

In that sense, Denise could be considered one of the most valuable people in the Beltus family.

She had no ambitions for power, no plans to rebel against the family, nor great aspirations; the only thing she desired was a stable life.

It was ironic that Ellen and Denise—so different in character and temperament—shared control of the Rose Salon.

“At the last meeting of the Rose Hall, many people were worried about Miss Aiselin. Truly, building good relationships is important. The Duplain family has already begun to lose its power, but it seems that the number of people interested in Lady Aiselin keeps growing.”

Denise, who had arrived by carriage from the Ebelstein mansion early that morning, looked quite tired.

At the Rose Hall, she acted as a refined noble lady, but she didn’t seem to want to maintain that exhausting façade in front of Dereck. She sighed deeply, her weary eyes half-closed.

Her beautiful silver-gray hair shone softly; Bella had worked hard to prepare her since early morning.

However, Denise carried herself with a casual naturalness, in complete contrast to her elegant attire.

In truth, she had long since stopped worrying about maintaining her dignity in front of Dereck.

“I see. But I didn’t expect Lady Denise to come in person.”

“Well, it’s not like I wanted to cause a commotion so early in the morning. Since Baron Ravenclaw refused the visits of all the ladies who wanted to see Lady Aiselin, I received many requests to come and check on her condition.”

“Lady Aiselin needs rest, so it was difficult to grant permission.”

“Yes, I understand. It’s not easy being the daughter of a powerful family. Ah…”

As she descended the carriage steps with her arms relaxed, Dereck offered her his hand.

Denise looked at him briefly and let out a small laugh before taking his hand firmly to step down.

“My, it seems there are more buildings now. This is almost half the size of our main estate in Beltus, isn’t it?”

“Most of them are new facilities built with donated funds.”

“Well, even frontier nobles are still nobles. They wouldn’t tolerate shabby buildings for their daughters.”

Denise let out a playful chuckle and walked alongside Dereck toward the main building of the Ravenclaw mansion.

“How is Lady Aiselin? If I don’t find out, there will be an uproar at the Rose Salon.”

“She’s much more stable now. But as a precaution, I recommended she rest for the entire week.”

“Yes, that’s something. I thought she was as strong as steel. Even in the salon, I was constantly surprised at how diligent someone could be…”

Denise crossed her arms and grew thoughtful for a moment.

From Dereck’s perspective, who until last month had been dealing with Ellen, she was an unfamiliar figure.

Ellen was always concerned with authority and prestige, even in casual conversations, whereas Denise seemed to treat Dereck as an equal.

However, Dereck’s sharp eye, trained from dealing with nobles, noticed something different.

Although her ease and natural demeanor were still present, he sensed a subtle unease in Denise’s behavior.

She was definitely different from the carefree girl who used to wander around the Ebelstein mansion. It couldn’t be explained simply as nervousness from being in an unfamiliar place.

From time to time, she cast furtive glances at Dereck or examined various parts of the building with unusual attention.

But it was difficult to pinpoint the exact reason. Dereck wasn’t a mind reader.

So he asked directly.

“Is something wrong? You seem uneasy.”

“Eh? What?”

Denise was startled and, after bringing a hand to her shining silver hair, fiddled with the ends.

“Did I give you that impression? No, it’s just that the mansion is larger than I expected, so I feel a bit overwhelmed.”

“Ah, really?”

“Yes. When I first met Dereck, he was just a mercenary without a fixed residence, remember? It seems like only a few years ago, but seeing you prosper like this is something moving for someone who’s seen it up close.”

“Thank you for thinking of it that way.”

“Oh, it’s nothing.”

Denise shook her head and looked toward the main building of the Ravenclaw barony.

“My throat is dry after the trip. Let’s have some tea to relax.”

“All right.”

As she said that, Denise quickly moved ahead, her attitude slightly different from before.

‘She’s lying.’

Dereck thought, resting his chin on one hand and frowning.

‘But why?’

Noble ladies were, by nature, unpredictable.

It didn’t seem like something to worry too much about, but still, it was better to stay alert.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelCet