Noble Lady Reformation Guide - Chapter 88: Marriage Proposal (4)

The idyllic landscape of the Rodelen region was so peaceful and comforting that just looking at it was enough to feel calm, but it was understandable why the central nobles didn’t come.

The vineyards, arranged in terraces over the mountainous terrain on the outskirts of the Duchy of Beltus, were not of particularly impressive scale.

It was said that the craftsmen living in these borderlands were so devoted to wine quality control that they vehemently opposed expanding the cultivation scale.

“I thought all noble houses would be luxurious and ostentatious, but that’s not always the case, huh?”

Dereck had ridden since early morning for almost half a day to reach the outskirts of Rodelen.

Pheline, who was patting the horse’s rump beside Dereck, looked at the noble mansion built next to the small vineyard and appeared surprised.

The elegant two-story building, made of light limestone, had aged too much and was covered in cobwebs due to lack of maintenance.

The roof was high and the floor marble, so with proper care, it could become a decent base, but the labor required wouldn’t be free.

“This is pretty good. If you look closely, there’s a stable next door, and although it’s a stretch to call it a garden because of its size, there’s also a circular one. It’s just full of weeds.”

Dereck shrugged as he dismounted his horse. Pheline, who had been observing the mansion with a disinterested expression, also dismounted.

“Would it be too soon to start real repairs…? I guess that’s for after receiving the title and gaining authority… But I still wanted to see what shape it was in.”

“Wow, our lord is already excited about receiving his title and making a name for himself… Coming to inspect a mansion that’s not even his yet…”

“Just by looking at it, you can tell there’s a lot to do. I can’t take care of this mansion alone, so I’ll have to hire staff… I also need to check on the tenants’ situation… And since I have a strong travel spirit, I need to establish a system so everything works even when I’m not here.”

Dereck’s goal has never changed. He wants to become a high-level mage.

And to achieve that, it was best to quickly take care of the necessary tasks.

For some, a noble title might be a lifelong goal, but for Dereck, it was nothing more than a tool to achieve a greater purpose.

He had no intention of wielding authority or boasting about the title.

“There are just a lot of expenses.”

“And where are you going to get that much money? Just by looking, it’s obvious the maintenance costs will be enormous.”

“When I receive the title, I’ll also be granted authority over taxes, so it won’t be a big problem. However, I’m not sure the local nobles who’ve lived without a lord will be willing to accept my decisions. It’s one problem after another.”

Dereck sat in an old wooden chair in a weed-covered garden.

Sitting quietly, he could hear the sound of insects under the warm sunlight.

It was certainly a good place to come and rest in old age, but not a property a central noble in his prime would covet.

“The location is nice.”

“Yeah… sigh.”

Pheline still wore a disinterested look.

She had agreed to accompany him for the money, but she seemed to strongly reject the idea of pretending to be nobility.

She preferred tightening her bowstring on a blood-soaked battlefield over maintaining composure in a polished setting.

“Have you chosen a noble surname yet?”

“Ravenclaw.”

“…Hmm.”

Dereck, who was absentmindedly looking at the sky with one arm hanging over the back of the chair, answered without hesitation.

The fact that he didn’t hesitate for a second meant he had already decided long ago.

Pheline, to whom the name sounded familiar, rested her chin on her hand and started thinking. There was a reason it sounded so familiar.

Though part of the Beldern Mercenary Corps, Dereck used to visit the slums where he spent his childhood from time to time.

It wasn’t often, maybe once or twice a year… He would walk along the riverside that crossed through the slums of Ebelstein.

Curious as to why someone like him would go there, Pheline once followed him.

And when she finally did, she didn’t find anything unusual, so she didn’t think much of it.

Before going to work, he would wake up at dawn and buy warm buttered bread from a store or bakery in the commercial district.

Then, he would place the bread in front of a modest grave made of old planks under a deteriorated bridge in the river in the slums, and sit by the water, silently watching the river’s flow.

Without showing any particular emotion, he would just sit there from time to time.

She didn’t know what meaning there was in watching the river’s scenery in the fresh morning air…

But she did remember the old inscription on the grave where Dereck left the bread.

The engraved name was “Ravenclaw.”

A crow pecking at corpses.

When wandering through the slums, she often saw those unpleasant birds perched on the bodies of those who had starved to death in the alley corners.

As a mage, he thought he had climbed out of that abyss by honing his skills, but… did Dereck still see himself as one of those crows?

Or did it have another meaning…? Pheline had no way of knowing.

“The weather’s nice.”

Just murmuring that surname and looking at the sky next to Dereck, she exhaled deeply through her nose.

The sky was high and blue.

Even with the passage of time, the seasons continued their cycle unchanged.

It’s natural for spring to follow winter. That principle remains immutable.

In the end, the ones who always leave are the people.

*

“I was so worried that Lady Aiselin would be upset that I couldn’t sleep, tossing and turning. It was an inevitable decision to maintain the authority of the Rose Salon, but from Lady Aiselin’s perspective, it must have been hard to accept.”

Trisha, of the Renouel Viscounty, was the most active in trying to expel the Duplains from the three great families.

In fact, her position was so awkward that she shouldn’t have even shown herself in front of Aiselin, but she appeared confidently and acted understanding.

Compassion is an emotion with a clearly defined hierarchy. It’s natural for someone above to feel compassion for someone below.

At first glance, she might have seemed like a kind person concerned for the fallen lady of the Duplains, but in reality, her intention to establish that hierarchy was blatantly obvious.

Her intentions were so malicious that Ellen, watching from the side, frowned.

‘How should I intervene in this…?’

Denise drank her tea indifferently, but Ellen was already rolling up her sleeves, ready to act.

However, Trisha’s words and actions were so sly that she did nothing overtly problematic. That was the nature of power struggles among noble ladies.

“I heard you went up north to get funds for your family…”

“Yes. I went to Rochester territory.”

“My… That must have been very hard. It’s not easy for a noble lady to go around earning money on her own, but I really can’t help but admire Lady Aiselin’s determination.”

“How kind of you, haha…”

The grace of a noble lady is revealed when she resembles a solitary flower, detached from the mundane world.

Running around desperately to earn a little money can’t be considered dignified, not even as a compliment.

Trisha’s words subtly attacked Aiselin’s unrefined behavior.

Those who knew nothing might have laughed, but the three members of the Rose Salon, who knew everything, could clearly feel the weight behind her words.

Was she trying to wound Aiselin’s pride and enjoy a sense of superiority?

Trisha was already smiling with satisfaction as she took a pastry from the dessert cart and placed it in front of her.

“The only thing I can offer you is some delicious sweets. I brought things that go well with tea. You probably don’t get to enjoy them often, so you’d better savor them while you can.”

‘You’re amazing, Lady Trisha.’

A vein popped on Ellen’s forehead.

It was well known that the Renouel Viscount family had been gaining power recently, but that was the merit of her family, not of Trisha herself.

It was normal for a noble lady to rely on her family’s influence, but that didn’t give her the right to be rude.

Ellen was considering whether there was something she could use against her.

“Thank you, Lady Trisha. I’ll enjoy it.”

Aiselin smiled softly and took a small plate with a cookie from the dessert cart.

She seemed completely unshaken. Aiselin had long been the most elegant flower of Ebelstein’s social circle.

The most effective way to deal with such arrogant remarks was to simply ignore them. And since she knew this well, she didn’t show any reaction.

Trisha, apparently uncomfortable with such a skillful response, pursed her lips for a moment.

The reason Trisha wanted to show off in front of Aiselin wasn’t just because of her bad personality, but also because she needed a symbolic scene where she could assert herself before the family power struggle began.

Someone like Aiselin of the Duplains, unable to respond with a single word.

If she could put her in that position, she could maintain a haughty attitude toward other noble ladies as well.

That’s why she wanted to frequently display Aiselin in a state of confusion and inability to respond.

In noble society, a demonstration of power equaled authority. And to achieve that, she needed to provoke Aiselin as much as possible, crossing the line when necessary.

She had to be willing to destroy the exemplary noble lady who never lost her grace or dignity.

A teenager obsessed with honor, power, and good marriages would cross that line from time to time.

Drip, drip.

And so, the warm tea flowed over Aiselin’s head.

It happened in an instant.

“Oh, I’m sorry. Lady Aiselin.”

“…”

It was so sudden that neither Ellen nor Denise, who were sitting beside her, could react in time.

Drip, drip, drip.

The tea that ran down Aiselin’s delicate chin dripped onto the table.

Before Aiselin, who still hadn’t fully grasped what had happened, could react, Ellen slammed the table and stood up.

“Lady Trisha!”

“I’m sorry. I wanted to offer you some fine tea from the Eastern continent, but my hand slipped.”

Even Aiselin, who always handled every situation with poise, showed a bewildered expression.

If she got angry, she would fall into Trisha’s rhythm. But if she endured it, she would also be playing along.

What was the right response? In this situation, where not only the servants of each family but even passersby on the street were looking, it was hard to respond quickly.

On the terrace of a tea house, right next to the central square of the noble district, where nobles and the wealthy usually gathered.

Seeing Aiselin lower her head in silence, Trisha whispered with a satisfied smile.

“Are you alright? What are we going to do about this…?”

A girl who seemed so apologetic that she didn’t know how to act. But everyone gathered there knew the truth. Trisha only wanted to establish hierarchies.

Just as Aiselin lifted her confused eyes to say something.

“What are you doing?”

A girl approached from beyond the terrace, accompanied by a servant.

It looked like she had run into them while walking around the square on an errand.

Her abundant blonde hair wrapped around her body, and her frilly dress, fitted to her petite figure, looked expensive at a glance.

Her eyes, raised with arrogance, revealed that she was not someone of pleasant temperament. The contrast between her adorable figure and her attitude was evident.

Trisha, momentarily taken aback by the sudden intervention, smiled again when she recognized the face.

She was the perfect person.

“Oh my, Lady Diella is here too. I’m sorry. I was rude to Lady Aiselin.”

Diella Katherine Duplain.

She was the younger sister of the girl now soaked in tea.

Known as the young lioness of the Duplain family, even after the great fall of the family, her spirit and charisma remained intact, causing unease among many young noble ladies.

However, Trisha already knew well.

At the last salon gathering, Diella had already bowed her head to Trisha once.

Even in a situation where she was openly insulted, she acknowledged her family’s decline and stepped back.

At that time, Trisha couldn’t say much more due to Diella’s overwhelming presence, but upon reflection, she could instinctively feel that the atmosphere had already shifted in her favor.

No matter how hard Diella tried, the lioness of Duplain couldn’t stop the fall.

Even the arrogant Diella had no choice but to acknowledge it.

That’s why Trisha curled her lips and said:

“I spilled tea on Lady Aiselin by accident. I want to clean it up, but Lady Diella, could you help me?”

“…”

“I’m worried that if I clean it myself, the tea will stain the hem of my dress.”

The pleasure of trampling all at once on the noble ladies of the beautiful and noble Duplain family.

As if enchanted by it, Trisha was about to raise her voice even more.

Diella, after looking at the tea-soaked Aiselin, walked firmly toward Trisha.

*

“I’ve reviewed the situation in the Rodelen region, so let’s go back to Ebelstein, Pheline.”

“Is there nothing else to do?”

“There’s not much we can do until I receive the title… For now, just evaluating the situation is enough. We’ll probably have to persuade the Beltus family. It’d be difficult for Lord Melverot to handle it alone.”

Saying that, Dereck stood up and walked quickly toward the entrance of the mansion where the horses were tied.

“How are you going to persuade those bastard nobles?”

“We’ll have to use every connection we have.”

“Well… Dereck, you’ve made quite a few connections with various noble ladies while claiming to be a magic teacher. Now that I think about it, you must have some influence in Ebelstein’s social circle.”

“Well… How much influence could I really have? I just teach magic.”

“Hmm… I don’t know…”

Pheline followed Dereck, mounted her horse, and huffed.

“I think differently…”

Pheline, who neither liked nor cared about noble culture, could be fairly sure. If people influenced by Dereck began entering Ebelstein’s social circle, there would definitely be changes.

Of course, it was impossible to predict what kind of influence Dereck would have or what events he might trigger.

Those things couldn’t be easily foreseen.

*

Smack!

Crash! Clatter!

In the midst of an event far more shocking than Aiselin soaked in tea.

Even Ellen, who rarely showed emotion, and Denise, who usually stayed calm, couldn’t help but open their eyes wide and drop their jaws.

It happened in an instant, but the aftermath of the impact was immense. It was as if time had stopped in the area.

Diella, who had kicked the tea table and lunged forward, slapped Trisha across the face with the palm of her hand.

It wasn’t a simple slap. The strike, infused with magic, shoved Trisha back and sent her crashing to the ground.

Crash! Bang!

The chair Trisha had been sitting on toppled over.

As she fell, the hem of her dress was covered in dust.

“Ah… Ugh…”

Trisha couldn’t comprehend what had just happened. Suddenly, the world flipped upside down, sparks flew, her vision dimmed, and before she realized it, she was already rolling on the ground.

Shortly after, a stinging pain shot through her cheek. The delay in sensation created a disorientation that further scrambled her mind.

“Huh… Gulp…”

No words came out.

Trisha looked up, clutching her cheek. There, Diella, still staring down at her with a cold expression, snapped her fingers.

She tried to speak but couldn’t form any words. Only choked sounds came from her throat.

Everyone—from the seated ladies to the distinguished guests and nearby servants—held their breath.

It was hard to grasp what had just happened before their eyes. In the midst of the shock, as if time had frozen, Trisha thought.

Even when she had insulted the family and directly attacked Diella, she hadn’t changed her expression.

Naturally, she thought that this time too, Diella would accept her family’s downfall and bow her head. However, Trisha didn’t know Diella’s “reverse scale.”

Diella had learned to endure insults aimed at her or her family’s name.

But despite that personal growth, there were moments she could not tolerate.

And this was one of those moments.

“…”

Winter had already ended, and the cherry blossoms were about to bloom. Yet the cold in Diella’s eyes seemed to freeze the entire area.

Without showing any emotion, Diella’s gaze held a clear murderous intent, like that of a predator.

Ultimately, the emotion in Trisha’s eyes was not anger, but pure, primal fear.

At the end of that frost-like rage, the girl spoke a single word, coldly:

“Get up.”

Apparently, the nobles had forgotten this moment.

At her peak, Diella was the most feared mad dog of the Duplain family.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelCet