Noble Lady Reformation Guide - Chapter 108

Elente instinctively knew.

The woman before her—Aiselin Eleanor Duplein with her hands on her hips, sparkling eyes and radiant smile—was a tiger wearing rabbit's fur who would swallow Derek whole and command the world if left unchecked.

She couldn't logically explain the connection between being close to Derek and ruling the world, but one thing was certain—this woman was dangerous.

For Derek to be absent from his estate long enough that she'd come personally to retrieve him... the situation had already escalated beyond normalcy.

Thus, Elente's response was perfectly measured.

"Derek is scheduled to remain at Belmierd Manor for a while. There are matters the household wishes to discuss with him..."

"Oh dear... Is that so? But Derek is technically a territory lord with final decision-making authority over his estate. While Belmierd's affairs are undoubtedly important, neglecting one's own lands is a noble's greatest shame."

Elente had guided her to a secluded reception room, served expensive tea and refreshments, and attempted reasoned discussion.

"I should at least meet Derek to inform him of the estate's situation."

Yet every argument Aiselin presented was irrefutable from Elente's perspective.

It was questionable why a Duplein noblewoman was playing advisor at Ravenclaw Barony, but since Derek had approved it, there was little to say.

Elente kept kneading her knees while stealing glances.

Watching Elente sweat nervously and avoid eye contact, Aiselin tilted her head.

'Lady Elente always seemed so confident and noble at Rosea Salon, yet appears rather timid at her family estate.'

Observing Elente, Aiselin smiled warmly while thinking:

'That contrast is utterly charming! People who show different facets of themselves possess such mysterious appeal!'

To be precise, Elente was specifically intimidated by Aiselin.

Even during Duplein's heyday, Elente had always lost to Aiselin in their exchanges.

Now that Belmierd's prestige far surpassed Duplein's, Aiselin remained the type who shone regardless of family backing—a girl who'd likely be the protagonist if the world were a story.

Her presence was so radiant it instinctively made others feel like supporting characters.

Seeing Aiselin's vibrant smile, Elente suddenly lowered her gaze with a dark expression.

'Next to this girl, I feel like a withered rose.'

Elente had always been in the audience seats while Aiselin commanded center stage.

Aiselin Eleanor Duplein possessed a star quality that reduced everyone around her to supporting roles.

Half a lifetime spent trying to surpass her had left Elente with deeply ingrained inferiority.

Natural talents like Aiselin often became the bane of those who clawed their way up from nothing.

At least arrogant upstarts could be despised for their flaws—but such individuals usually had perfect personalities too... Elente blinked slowly.

Of course she shines—she has everything.

But if you have so much, can't you spare just one thing?

Having always lost to Aiselin, Elente felt competitive fire reignite.

Cornered like this, her mind grew feverish.

"Unfortunately, Derek cannot return to Ravenclaw Barony yet, Lady Aiselin."

"Pardon?"

"I intend to propose to him."

And thus the world ended.

"Lady Aiselin of House Duplein has arrived at Belmierd Manor seeking Derek. Could you spare time to meet her?"

"Lady Aiselin, you mean?"

Briana, Belmierd's senior retainer, nodded stiffly.

Elente's longtime loyal servant maintained an inscrutable expression while studying Derek.

Strangely, she seemed more deferential than before.

'Come to think of it, all the servants have been more respectful lately...'

Derek tilted his head thoughtfully.

Servants who'd previously offered casual nods now bowed at ninety-degree angles upon seeing him.

As a nominal noble without real influence, he'd understood Belmierd's senior retainers treating him casually—especially the border count's inner circle, whose authority and retinues dwarfed a rural baron's.

But recently even high-ranking officials like magistrates bowed deeply, making Derek uncomfortable.

While he'd contributed during Belmierd's recent crisis, this level of deference felt excessive.

"Come to think of it, I've neglected Ravenclaw affairs. Lady Aiselin must have come regarding that. The journey here must have been arduous."

"She awaits in the reception hall. I can escort you."

"No need for formal escort. As chief scribe, you must have duties."

"Allowing Derek to move unattended would be improper. Please don't feel burdened."

The protocol was excessive for a nominal noble.

Sensing the unusual atmosphere, Derek resolved to ask Elente about it later.

As he rose—

- Creak

The door burst open to reveal Aiselin, face pale as a ghost.

Though told to wait in the reception hall, she'd come personally—oddly impatient even though Derek would have visited shortly.

Swallowing hard at the sight of Derek, she glanced down the hallway before addressing Briana in a trembling voice:

"Apologies, but this concerns Ravenclaw's classified matters. Might we have privacy?"

"Pardon? Ah, of course."

With both identities verified, leaving them alone posed no risk.

Briana bowed out, swiftly closing the door.

Aiselin checked the windows, drew the curtains, secured the door, then sat opposite Derek with unnatural stiffness.

"D-Derek... Apologies for my flustered state upon reuniting..."

"N-no... Did you see something disturbing?"

"N-not exactly... Derek, you've stayed here quite long. I came to say it's time to return."

"A letter would have sufficed for that. You needn't have come personally."

Derek studied Aiselin from the corner of his eye.

Fidgeting uncomfortably across the tea table, she seemed genuinely unsettled.

While debating whether to pretend nothing was wrong or express concern, Aiselin spoke first:

"If you've no further business here, we should... depart quickly."

"I've neglected Ravenclaw affairs. You've borne much hardship."

"Th-that's important, but..."

Still pale, Aiselin checked their surroundings before whispering:

"Derek... I'll speak plainly... You'd see through any half-baked lies anyway..."

"What troubles you?"

"C-could we return to Ravenclaw immediately? Without questions... I hate making demands like this..."

Derek felt deeply unsettled by Aiselin's uncharacteristic desperation.

The normally considerate girl insisting so forcefully—this was a first.

"P-please... no questions...! Just gather your things and come with me now... Please...?"

Derek swallowed dryly at Aiselin's obvious distress.

He'd never seen her so agitated. Being perceptive, he asked gravely:

"Are you being threatened? Or is someone holding secrets hostage?"

"Ugh..."

She shook her head frantically, looking ready to cry.

Her pleading expression discouraged further questions. Truthfully, Derek had planned to leave anyway—acceding to her demand cost nothing.

As Derek nodded, Aiselin sprang up.

"L-let's pack immediately then?"

"Now? Shouldn't we bid farewell to the border count?"

"I'll leave a letter. Let's say magical beasts appeared at Ravenclaw requiring urgent assistance. Potential casualties demand immediate attention."

"Is that true?"

"N-no, but we should go. Now?"

Her frantic urgency suggested someone might steal treasured possessions at any moment.

Soon Aiselin was rolling up sleeves to pack Derek's mercenary gear into leather bags—hardly behavior befitting a ducal lady.

But Aiselin wasn't one for formalities.

'I've never seen Lady Aiselin's expression freeze so instantly...'

After their conversation, Elente returned to her room feeling inexplicable exhilaration.

The unflappable Aiselin—who'd maintained grace through Duplein's collapse, tea-throwing humiliations, and physical altercations—had turned pale, eyes darting nervously.

Repeatedly questioning Elente's meaning, her teacup had trembled visibly.

Recalling Aiselin's shaken expression eased the inferiority that had gnawed at Elente for years.

If securing Derek could unsettle even Aiselin, his value grew exponentially in Elente's estimation.

"Hah..."

Imagining strolling Belmierd's gardens with Derek, Elente caught herself grinning darkly before composing herself.

Such unladylike expressions wouldn't do.

Yet her fantasies continued—how to secure Derek's allegiance within her domain where she held every advantage.

"..."

- Chirp, chirp, chirp.

Come morning, Derek was gone.

Like the wind, he couldn't be caged—too many obligations pulled him elsewhere.

But he wouldn't vanish without word. Someone must have warned him.

'Aiselin...!'

Before the empty guest quarters, Elente's eyes burned with fury.