Noble Lady Reformation Guide - Chapter 13

As the Grand Duke of Duplein was giving instructions to Head Butler Dellon, the office door burst open violently.

The furious Lady Miriela and Valerian, the eldest son who had followed to restrain her, entered the room.

"Dellon. Please excuse us for a moment."

"...Yes, my lady."

After dismissing Dellon, Miriela strode directly to the desk where the Grand Duke sat working and glared at him.

"I see you've returned from the southern social gathering. The journey must have been long and tiring."

"That's not important right now. More importantly, I hear you've hired a new tutor for Diela..."

"..."

The Grand Duke's expression suggested he'd anticipated this conversation. His sidelong glance at Valerian showed the heir massaging his temples in exasperation as usual.

"It was Aiselin's recommendation."

"Even so! How could you allow some commoner nobody to become Diela's tutor?"

- Bang!

Miriela slammed the desk and raised her voice, her glare sharp enough to kill. As the matriarch of the Duplein household, managing the estate was her domain while the Duke handled external affairs.

She'd been away attending a social gathering with the southern Cradle Marquis family, longtime allies of the Dupleins, never imagining such a drastic change would occur in her absence.

"Aiselin may be too lenient in her judgments, but as her father, you should have vetoed this! Think of the household's dignity! Don't you agree?"

"I'm no more fond of employing commoners than you are. But as you know, all the qualified magic tutors of proper lineage have already given up and left."

"Even so, we should at least find someone with minimal qualifications! How could you bring in some mercenary gutter rat as Diela's tutor?!"

Miriela was clearly livid. The Grand Duke set down his quill and frowned.

"You know as well as I do how difficult it is to find competent magic tutors."

"There must be minimum standards! Dismiss that Derek or whatever his name is immediately! We could recall Flam from the territory's outskirts instead!"

Flam was the Grand Duke's younger brother, responsible for managing the standing army patrolling the territory's borders. One of the few 4-star mages in the Duplein family, he had previously attempted to teach Diela.

"Flam gave up on her long ago."

"That was when Diela was... going through her rebellious phase. Now she's matured, manifested magic power, and regained her senses."

"You'd pull a key figure managing our border defenses to be a tutor? Do you think territory management can run on whims?"

"Educating the next generation is just as important as territory management! Don't assume everyone will turn out as splendidly as Valerian and Raeg without guidance! There are plenty of lieutenants who can temporarily handle military affairs."

Miriela stared pointedly at the Grand Duke.

She was perhaps the only one who could glare at him so openly. As matriarch, she held considerable authority over household matters.

The Grand Duke acknowledged this, listening quietly to her arguments.

"Whether it's that Derek or Flam teaching magic, there's hardly any difference!"

"I wouldn't say that."

"What possible difference could there be?"

"He's produced results."

The Grand Duke stroked his beard and leaned back. Miriela held her breath at his words.

"Results aren't everything, darling."

"Then what should take precedence?"

"You men don't understand Evelstain's high society. You've no idea how crucial one's tutor's reputation is in that vipers'nest."

The men of the household, preoccupied with territory management and training, remained oblivious to noble ladies'social customs.

But as matriarch, Miriela knew. In Evelstain's high society, while family lineage mattered, personal achievements, one's tutor's reputation, and social connections were equally important markers of a lady's refinement.

Naming a renowned magic tutor from the continent often revealed shared mentors among nobles, creating academic connections that formed powerful factions in society.

In such a culture, having an unknown commoner as one's tutor would be a tremendous disgrace.

Every word exchanged in Evelstain's high society was as deadly as swords clashing. Miriela couldn't bear the thought of Diela entering that arena with such a disadvantage.

Frowning deeply, Miriela raised her voice:

"Fine. I'll acknowledge that Derek has achieved more than expected for a commoner. But now we should assign her a proper high-ranking mage as tutor. That's the right path for Diela and our family's standing."

The Grand Duke narrowed his eyes at Miriela.

He understood her concerns. If Diela struggled in society despite her debut, the effort would be meaningless.

Noble ladies represented their families in society.

While someone like Aiselin, perfect in every aspect, needed no worry, Diela's potential failure could tarnish the Duplein name.

"Mother, you're too agitated. Let's calm down and discuss this tomorrow."

"Valerian, stay out of this. Such matters worsen if not addressed immediately."

Miriela seemed determined to settle everything now. As matriarch, she was known for decisive action.

"I won't sleep tonight unless I personally dismiss that gutter rat."

"Then wouldn't proving that commoner mage's qualifications suffice, Mother?"

At that moment, Raeg, the second son, entered with his own opinion.

He'd rushed to the office upon hearing the situation. His muscular frame filled the doorway as he stepped inside.

The Grand Duke's eyes narrowed.

"Raeg!"

"I was training. My apologies for not greeting you sooner, Mother."

"You look well, at least. We'll catch up later. But... did you know about this Derek?"

"Yes. He's not bad, though hardly a substitute for Uncle Flam."

Raeg strode to stand before the Grand Duke.

"Father. Let me test this Derek's capabilities."

"Don't be absurd. The man's a genuine mage. You might surpass him with your noble blood once more mature, but not yet."

"..."

Raeg bristled at being deemed inferior to a commoner, but held his tongue. As someone who'd mastered seven 1st Grade spells, surpassing even Valerian in proficiency (though not yet breaking through to 2nd Grade), the assessment stung.

But he couldn't openly contradict the Grand Duke's judgment. He needed another approach.

Suddenly, Raeg's lips curled into a smile as an idea struck him.

"Then... what if we test Diela instead?"

The suggestion made everyone frown. It was an angle they hadn't considered.

"What do you mean?"

"If Derek is such an outstanding teacher, then Diela must have made remarkable progress under him. I'll personally test her abilities through a magic duel."

"What are you thinking, Raeg?"

"Exactly what I said."

The Grand Duke rested his chin on his hand, deep in thought.

Having spent his life assessing people's worth, he easily discerned Raeg's intentions.

Raeg simply disliked Diela. He believed her social debut would only disgrace their family name.

Publicly humiliating her—even undermining her trusted tutor—to confine Diela to the annex again. He clearly thought this served the Duplein name's long-term interests.

Conversely, if even Diela's greatest critic acknowledged her progress, no one else in the family would object. This realization gave the Grand Duke pause.

"Father... why hesitate..."

Diela, who'd struggled to learn even 1st Grade magic, facing Raeg—already proficient in multiple spells—was sheer cruelty.

This was nothing but persecution. Valerian couldn't remain silent.

"Raeg! Learn when to step forward and when to hold back!"

"Brother! I know the difference! This is precisely when I must step forward!"

Raeg raised his voice and boldly addressed the Grand Duke:

"If Diela has truly achieved proper progress, then this path is acceptable. But if not, we dismiss Derek. Isn't that fair?"

"...The logic is sound."

"Father!"

Valerian slammed the desk, but the Grand Duke remained unmoved.

Valerian clenched his teeth, about to protest further, then reluctantly conceded.

"This is too harsh on Diela. You know that."

"True. But if she intends to enter society with a commoner tutor, she needs corresponding achievements. Miriela has a point there."

"But must we verify this immediately? Diela just emerged from the annex. She hasn't studied magic long."

"Procrastination solves nothing. Time isn't infinite. If anything, now's precisely when we must verify. Well, Miriela? Shall we proceed as Raeg suggests?"

"..."

After brief contemplation, Miriela looked at Raeg.

Her sturdy second son had always trained diligently. Nearing his coming-of-age ceremony with impressive achievements, he was no match for a girl who'd barely manifested magic power.

Even if Derek had exceptional teaching skills, some things remained impossible.

Finally, Miriela smiled faintly.

"Raeg!"

Valerian followed Raeg into the hallway after the meeting.

Raeg turned, meeting his brother's gaze evenly.

"Yes, Brother."

"What are you thinking? Raeg?"

"Did I explain poorly earlier? I meant exactly what I said in the office."

Though Valerian gritted his teeth, Raeg remained unfazed.

"Do you truly believe that brat has reformed? I wouldn't believe it if the heavens reversed. She's just wearing a mask, distracted by magic. I'd rather personally defecate on the Duplein name than let that girl enter society."

"Even so, must you dismiss the tutor she's finally bonded with?"

"That Derek, you mean?"

Though usually deferential to his elder brother, Raeg seemed unwilling to compromise here. His expression remained resolute.

"Yes. I'll admit it—the man has remarkable teaching skills. But does that justify keeping him as Diela's tutor?"

"What exactly do you mean?"

Raeg stepped closer, his eyes gleaming.

"That girl belongs locked away in the annex."

With that definitive statement, Raeg turned and strode down the hallway.

Valerian clenched his fists but couldn't bring himself to shout after him.

Raeg had suffered most from Diela's past cruelty. Valerian understood those wounds.

Leaning against the wall, he sighed deeply.

As both Raeg's brother and Diela's elder sibling, Valerian's worries seemed endless.

- Bang

The next morning, as Derek read at the guest room table, the door swung open.

Having heard the footsteps, Derek showed no surprise, keeping his eyes on the book.

"You could knock."

"Is that really what you should say now?"

Diela marched in, dismissing the maids with a glance. They hastily closed the door behind them.

She tossed the Grand Duke's handwritten letter onto Derek's table. He already knew its contents.

"If I lose this duel, you're fired."

"I heard. Lord Raeg is already a proficient 1st Grade mage. It'll be difficult."

"That's all you have to say? You don't care if you're dismissed?"

"I was hired to do a job. I'll complete it and be fairly compensated."

Unlike Diela, Derek remained calm, well aware of the divide between nobles and commoners.

Despite Derek's efforts, Diela's magical progress had been slower than expected.

Her growth rate wasn't terrible, but reaching 1st Grade magic in this short time proved impossible.

Now she'd have to face Raeg with only basic, unranked spells against his array of 1st Grade magic—a near-certain loss.

Derek closed his book and tied his bootlaces.

"You must have realized by now, but your magic power has stabilized. While you can't cast 1st Grade spells yet, maintaining your current training regimen will yield quick progress. After all, you have Duplein blood."

"...What do you mean? Why say that?"

"As I've said before, Wild School magic focuses more on self-study than traditional instruction."

Derek spoke in his usual measured tone.

Diela studied him, feeling both familiarity and strangeness.

Derek had always been this way—light on his feet, ready to leave the Ducal mansion at any moment as Diela's tutor. His mercenary upbringing explained his rootless nature.

After hesitating, Diela walked over and looked directly at him, her eyes oddly wistful.

"Derek... I know I'm not an outstanding student."

"..."

"But... I want you to keep teaching me. I don't want anyone else."

For the usually prickly Diela to voice her feelings so directly was rare.

The girl was like a scarred stray cat—hissing at strangers but gentle with those she trusted.

Yet wanting something didn't guarantee obtaining it. Though accustomed to getting her way, Diela needed to learn this truth.

If you want something, fight for it. If you don't want to lose something, struggle to keep it.

A fundamental truth every gutter-born commoner knew. Better late than never for this girl to understand.

"I should mention I know little about noble magic duel etiquette. Only superficial knowledge from hearsay. I'm just a mercenary who roamed battlefields."

"So... you can't advise me about the duel?"

"Correct. But I can teach you how to win a fight."

Derek crouched to meet Diela's gaze.

"Do you want to win?"

Diela had been the girl staring vacantly at annex walls, trapped in a thorny cage.

Now flames kindled in her eyes.

Days later, a magic duel platform was erected in the Ducal mansion's garden.

Among nobles, magic duels were nearly ceremonial events.

Evelstain's high society frequently hosted magic salons and gatherings where upper-grade mages'duels were showcased. These duels served as premier demonstrations of magical achievement.

While internal family duels weren't uncommon, today's was special—Diela's first public appearance on the platform.

Typically, retainers with some magical ability served as practice partners for debut duels, but today Raeg, the Ducal second son, would be her opponent. Nearing his coming-of-age ceremony, he was already an accomplished mage.

At noon, under bright sunlight, Raeg stood proudly on the platform in formal attire and cloak, smiling smugly.

The Duke and Duchess observed from their terrace, while retainers gathered respectfully below.

As the Duke absently traced his teacup's rim, he noticed Derek sitting calmly near the platform, showing no signs of tension.

'Has he given up, or is he confident? Even an exceptional tutor couldn't have anticipated this situation.'

This mage remained oddly composed where others would panic—whether from mercenary experience or innate temperament, he never lost his cool in dire straits.

'Perhaps too valuable to dismiss prematurely.'

The Duke glanced at Miriela, snorted, then returned his gaze to the platform where Raeg stretched confidently.

Soon, Diela ascended the opposite steps. Her voluminous golden hair cascaded over her shoulders.

She wore her usual frilly dress with ribbon accents—signature attire for the Ducal family's darling youngest. But today, a crimson robe draped over it.

Slightly oversized for her frame, the robe's sleeves hung loosely. As warm garden breezes stirred the fabric, its hem fluttered gently.

Beneath the robe's hood, Diela's determined eyes gleamed faintly.

"..."

Raeg instantly understood.

Today, the girl hadn't come as the Duplein family's youngest daughter.

She stood here as Derek's disciple—as a mage in her own right.