Noble Lady Reformation Guide - Chapter 157

'Today's the day Tricia returns to the main estate. She must have had her first lesson with Baron Ravenclaw—I'm eager to hear her thoughts.'

Countess Rodea was being dressed by her attendants.

Unlike most noblewomen, her wilder disposition meant she rarely wore extravagant dresses. She simply braided her hair and applied minimal makeup to protect her skin—a quick routine.

While heading to her office to review the day's agenda with a few letters from the central continent in hand...

Her chief advisor followed closely, reporting in a disciplined tone:

"Negotiations with the Abelon Territory seem concluded successfully. The tax adjustment proposal for the outer regions is still under review, but prospects look positive."

"Then no need for my direct involvement. Any other news?"

"A letter arrived from Ravenclaw Territory."

"Oh? From Baron Ravenclaw himself?"

Derek Raidof Ravenclaw rarely exchanged letters for trivial matters.

His proactive outreach was uncommon, so Rodea listened intently.

Yet the content proved less significant than expected.

"Baron Ravenclaw's mentor, a woman named Katia Flameheart, will be passing through Renuel County and Beltus Ducal Territory. He humbly requests we extend courtesy to avoid inconveniences during her transit."

"How interesting. That lone wolf of a man making such aristocratic requests."

Nobles commonly leveraged connections for protocol favors.

But coming from Baron Ravenclaw—who seemed detached from such customs—it felt peculiar.

Since he'd reached out, reciprocation seemed appropriate.

Such personal favors created debts and connections.

"If heading to Ravenclaw Territory, she'd pass through my lands, cross the Rubes plains, then enter Beltus Ducal Territory."

"Correct. Rumor says General Orel's mercenary group will personally receive her. Soldiers are already mobilizing near the border."

"...Deploying a territory's supreme commander just to escort one traveler...?"

"Well... this Katia is apparently Baron Ravenclaw's benefactor. They insist she mustn't be treated lightly."

Denise of House Beltus, sharp and well-informed, had thoroughly researched Derek's associates.

Especially how deeply Derek valued Katia—she'd drilled into her retainers never to offend her.

Denise always handled such matters swiftly and decisively.

Derek managed Ravenclaw School's formidable noble girls, and the one he trusted and followed was Katia.

If Katia voiced an opinion, Derek would respect it unless wholly unreasonable—that said everything.

Countess Rodea pondered briefly.

Tricia joining Derek's disciples was recent. Even with frequent correspondence, Katia likely remained unaware.

Meaning this would be their first impression.

First impressions mattered profoundly in noble circles—even children knew this.

Thus, preparations seemed necessary.

"If Beltus Territory plans such lavish hospitality, we can't lag behind. Falling short here would invite future criticism."

"Your orders, my lady?"

"If they're sending their supreme commander, I'll go personally."

"Y-you personally, Countess?"

Rodea cracked her shoulders.

"I've been restless focusing solely on internal affairs. My steeds need exercise—this provides perfect justification for a plains gallop."

"I-is that so? But—"

"Enough objections. I know you'll prattle about the Renuel family head needing dignified composure."

Before becoming Renuel's matriarch, Rodea was a battlefield warrior.

Constant administrative duties sometimes grated on her.

"It's been ages since I crushed those necromancer scum. Time to stretch my legs. Prepare my finest steeds and alert the honor guard. I'll escort this Katia personally to the border."

"S-such unprecedented protocol seems unnecessary—"

"This ensures Baron Ravenclaw can't complain later. Such opportunities are rare—we must seize them decisively."

Rodea laughed heartily while striding toward the stables.

Her chief advisor hesitated, then hurried after her.

"We'll showcase Renuel's dignity properly. Keep me updated on her itinerary."

However, Rodea overlooked one detail.

Katia always moved half a beat faster—a habit from her mercenary days.

"No intention to disclose proper status, no willingness to reveal carriage contents, yet expects unquestioned passage? The audacity!"

Tricia's spirits were unusually high.

After enduring Derek's harshness, Sirine and Diela's bullying, and Rosea Salon nobles'scrutiny—despite being Renuel County's cherished noble lady, she'd spent days walking on eggshells.

Finally able to assert noble pride, her excitement was understandable.

Under Tricia's glare, the checkpoint guards flinched involuntarily.

This—this cringing, cautious deference—was the reaction Tricia craved.

At Renuel's main estate, even senior retainers bowed when she walked by with dignified grace.

I am nobility.

This long-awaited ego boost was intoxicating.

'Yes... this is me! The noble flower of House Renuel!'

"Lady Tricia speaks truth. However, Renuel County typically doesn't inspect travelers merely passing through outer regions."

Renuel County's northern peninsula-like geography made thorough inspections impractical.

Unless summoning merchants for customs duties, inspecting every carriage wasted administrative resources.

The robed mercenary mage—eyes sharp with vitality—spoke with measured courtesy.

"I've presented Elvester County's seal. Surely this suffices. Why insist on inspecting my carriage?"

Even Countess Rodea couldn't oversee every remote checkpoint.

Guards sometimes harassed travelers for bribes—this mercenary clearly understood their tactics.

"Urk..."

Tricia flinched.

Though the woman seemed common, an indescribable intensity radiated from her.

Her composed arguments carried subtle pressure.

As Tricia hesitated, a guard raised his voice:

"Elvester County's presence in the southwest is rare! How do we know you're not impersonating distant retainers to conceal your identity?"

"Then you distrust Elvester's seal? I've offered verification repeatedly. Shall I report Renuel's checkpoint refusal to my superiors?"

The guard frowned.

Clearly, the mercenary hid something in her carriage.

While partly hoping to extort coins, his justification for stopping suspicious individuals remained valid.

Normally, he'd relent against such resistance.

But with Lady Tricia observing, retreating gracefully became impossible.

'If necessary, revealing the contents might resolve this, but that burdens Derek... Any alternatives?'

Caught off-guard by the checkpoint hassle, Katia wore an awkward expression.

She desperately wanted to conceal Lady Freya's presence—the social butterfly of the eastern continent's influence reached even here.

Alerting guards would notify Renuel's main estate, spreading news of Elvester's Freya heading toward Evelstain.

A simple disciple visit shouldn't become a spectacle. Bringing Freya had been a mistake.

"Elvester County's seal? The eastern continent's most powerful house...!"

Meanwhile, Tricia struggled to reconcile this shabby woman with Elvester's prestige.

Such a prestigious house wouldn't send retainers in ragged carriages—it'd disgrace their name.

Her mercenary attire and apparent low rank clashed with Elvester's stature.

She seemed more impostor than envoy.

Letting her pass felt suspicious, but detaining her risked repercussions.

'Hmm...'

Tricia crossed her arms, deep in thought.

Katia—having taught Derek improvisation and noble etiquette—quickly assessed Tricia.

Ten years in noble society, ten as a mercenary, ten as a tutor—handling Tricia was child's play.

'Her prideful demeanor, constant house prestige references... Clearly status-obsessed.'

Her frilly dress and expensive accessories spoke volumes.

Attendants fussed over her appearance—a product of rigorous training.

Young but vain—Katia knew this type well.

"Very well. If Lady Tricia judges personally, I'll comply without objection."

"Huh?"

"Lady Tricia's reputation reaches even eastern salons—they say she inherited Countess Rodea's commanding presence with refined grace. How could a lowly mercenary like me question such wisdom?"

People like Tricia were susceptible to flattery.

Katia's words flowed like water.

"In fact, I'm fortunate. That Lady Tricia herself would adjudicate relieves me greatly."

"Y-you think sweet talk will sway me?"

"I seek no favor—only Lady Tricia's wise judgment. However it falls, I'll accept it."

With that, Katia gazed at Tricia with respectful eyes.

Her sincerity felt palpable, making Tricia gulp.

'Smooth talker.'

Tricia side-eyed her before clearing her throat.

"I see sapphire hairpins and jade earrings from the Imperial Central Atelier. Such exquisite taste makes my humble attire shameful."

"Y-you know jewelry? Indeed—commoners like you could never afford these."

"Their brilliance pales beside your beauty, Lady Tricia. In my line of work, I've seen many noblewomen, but few shine like you."

Tricia laughed haughtily before catching herself.

'Almost let my guard down. What a viper's tongue.'

Regaining composure, Tricia glared.

"You think cheap flattery will save you? How stupid do I look?"

"..."

"Your attitude worsens by the minute. You're coming with me for proper interrogation. The audacity!"

"That's hilarious! Hahaha!"

"Thus concludes the tale of Antel House's unfortunate lady. Not all noblewomen are as lovely as you, Lady Tricia. I nearly pinched my thigh stifling laughter."

"Hahaha! Some gutter rats dare call themselves nobility. Pathetic."

"Yet their existence highlights your radiance, my lady. We must appreciate those who make the ground we walk upon."

"True, true. I'll be grateful to those rats occasionally. Hahaha. Brr... is it getting colder?"

"Allow me to light a fire. The area will warm shortly."

"Your magic's impressive too! You're amusing!"

Tricia laughed uproariously while Katia smiled warmly beside her.

For Katia—with decades across noble salons, mercenary bands, and tutoring—handling Tricia was effortless.

Flattering her ego ensured smooth passage—no pride was harmed.

She'd dealt with far worse noble brats.

Thus, Tricia approved her passage, even accompanying her to the border while chatting animatedly.

Eventually, Tricia enthusiastically offered to escort her beyond the checkpoint.

Returning home required crossing this protruding border region anyway.

"Katia, was it? What an unusual background. Noble, mercenary, tutor... Few in my circle have such diversity."

"Nothing remarkable, Lady Tricia. I simply adapt. Your noble burdens must weigh heavier."

"True... sigh... Few understand my struggles. You're refreshingly perceptive."

Tricia sighed dramatically, resting her chin on the carriage armrest.

Exhausted from Derek's constant scrutiny, she basked in proper sycophancy—like coming home.

Her tone grew more imperious.

"You're quite the storyteller! More amusing tales!"

"There's one about the eastern nobility's most absurd deaths. Did you know one choked on salon food?"

"First I've heard! Eastern cuisine's rumored exquisite—apparently true!"

"To explain, I must describe the social climate fifteen years prior... The chef at the time..."

Thus enthralled, Tricia smiled contentedly.

Lost in bliss, their carriages proceeded side by side.

"......"

Denise stared in disbelief.

At the border between Renuel County and Rubes Plains.

Having deduced Katia's approach, she'd come with soldiers to greet her.

Even General Orel, commander of Beltus'forces, stood ready with full ceremonial preparations.

But bringing soldiers into Renuel's checkpoint was impossible.

They waited beyond the border to escort Katia with their troops once she crossed.

Thus, only two attendants accompanied Denise into the checkpoint...

Where she saw a familiar girl sitting triumphantly in a carriage driver's seat, loudly proclaiming:

"Hahahaha! I like you! Since I'm escorting you personally, remember this favor! Next time, I might grant you another audience! Feel honored!"

"Indeed, an immense honor, Lady Tricia."

Tricia sat cross-legged, waving a peacock-feather fan with haughty laughter—beside Derek's mentor, Katia Flameheart.

Smiling, Katia warmed the air around Tricia with magic while showering her with flattery and stories.

She even knelt in formal vassal posture.

Delighted, Tricia heartily patted Katia's shoulder.

"If all Renuel retainers were like you! Join my service! I'll pay handsomely!"

"A generous offer, but as Elvester's retainer, I must decline."

"Playing hard to get! Fine. Your name was... Cart? Kahit? Forgive me—I never remember servants'names. You understand."

"Katia Flameheart."

"Right! Katia! I'll remember you specially! Contact me if you change your mind! Ohohoho!"

Tricia laughed buoyantly, thoroughly pleased.

Watching from afar, Denise grew pale.

The woman kneeling before Tricia was none other than Katia Flameheart—the person Derek Raidof Ravenclaw cherished above all others.

Clutching her dress, Denise approached the checkpoint guards. Rubbing her eyes changed nothing.

"L-Lady Tricia... What are you... doing..."

"Huh? Lady Denise? Why are you... here..."

Both girls gaped in shock.

Then the name"Denise"reached the kneeling mercenary's ears.

Unlike Tricia's name, Denise's had appeared consistently in Derek's letters for years.

Thus, Katia rose slowly with visible delight.

"Lady Denise...?"

"Ah, y-yes, that's..."

"Derek's disciple! Lady Denise of House Beltus! I've heard how much you've helped Derek... To meet you here... What joy!"

Katia stood with perfect decorum, radiating genuine warmth.

'Our Derek'

The peculiar phrasing made Tricia turn her head blankly.

"...What?"

Ignorance isn't a sin.

But it isn't consequence-free.

"I am but a lowly water strider dung beetle of a human......."

Once comprehension dawned, Tricia needed under ten seconds to kowtow fully.