Noble Lady Reformation Guide - Chapter 158

Katia's life trajectory had always been a downward slope.

When discussing the so-called nobility in her tumultuous life, there was simply too much to say.

From being the matriarch of the luxurious Flameheart family to a fallen noble, then a mercenary roaming battlefields, and now finally a magic instructor for the Elvester family...

Throughout her turbulent life, the expressions worn by those who called themselves nobility had constantly shifted.

Those who once smiled warmly at the Flameheart matriarch—a notable figure in eastern high society—began spitting in her face when she fell into the mud. And when she regained fame as a magic instructor, their fake smiles returned.

Beneath their flip-flopping attitudes lingered a subtle contempt—the unspoken knowledge that Katia would never truly be nobility again.

Their chameleon-like behavior changed with whoever stood before them.

To Katia, who'd lived through more upheavals than most, all nobles were like this.

Perhaps those who'd lived stagnant lives in one place couldn't comprehend such gaps.

Young noblewomen, raised seeing only their kind and warm noble families, might believe this was their true nature until their dying day.

Truthfully, shifting attitudes with changing circumstances was only natural.

Katia no longer felt anger or resentment about it. She'd long accepted and calmly acknowledged she was no different from a commoner now.

Still, navigating such turbulent waters occasionally made her wonder.

Unlike Katia's endlessly descending life, one apprentice who'd stayed close to her seemed to be ascending endlessly toward distant heights.

The scenery viewed while falling versus climbing must feel different.

Or perhaps identical. Having never experienced the latter, she couldn't say.

So whenever Katia folded Derek's letters into her drawer, she'd gaze quietly at the southwestern sky beyond her window and think:

When the time comes, will you tell me about what you've seen?

Carrying such thoughts in her heart, the aged master embarked on a journey to meet her apprentice after so long.

"I serve as leader of Orel's Mercenary Band. Heard you worked the tavern streets of Evelstain for years as a mercenary too. Your attire... feels like meeting a fellow countryman. Quite nostalgic."

"..."

Tales of Mercenary Leader Orel had circulated since Katia's days in Evelstain.

That the legendary Orel—revered as practically mythical among mercenaries—now served as a private soldier for House Beltus was shocking enough. That he'd personally come to escort Katia with troops in tow was beyond belief.

Seeing the number of soldiers assembled for this"honor guard,"Katia frowned in bewilderment.

"Lady Denise. What... is all this?"

"Well... you see..."

Denise herself seemed unsure how to treat Katia.

Having known Derek since before his noble title, Denise maintained a comfortably casual relationship with him. Unless protocol demanded otherwise, excessive formality between them just felt awkward.

In fact, being too polite made things weirder, so they'd settled into an easy master-apprentice dynamic.

But how should one treat Katia?

Fundamentally, Katia had lost all status and position—effectively a commoner.

She herself seemed unconcerned, showing proper deference to Denise and Tricia as vassals would.

Yet Denise and Tricia couldn't treat her lightly either.

"House Beltus's internal affairs are complicated lately... But since Derek's master is visiting personally, basic courtesies seemed necessary..."

"Th-this is too much... You're exceedingly considerate, Lady Denise."

"No... Truthfully, it's essential for House Beltus's dignity..."

Denise decided against false pretenses.

Having heard about Katia from Derek multiple times, she knew any insincere facade would be instantly seen through.

"From how you addressed Lady Denise earlier... I suspect you're unaware of your own influence in the southwestern continent..."

"Huh?"

"You'll visit Evelstain's high society, yes? If discretion is your goal, avoid revealing your name. Mentioning you're Baron Ravenclaw's master would draw hordes desperate for your attention..."

Watching Denise speak while swallowing nervously, Katia tilted her head in confusion.

As mentioned, Katia's only source of Evelstain news was Derek's letters.

Busy days serving House Elvester left little room for tracking a distant city's affairs.

And Derek's letters merely listed dry personal updates. While Katia guessed they impacted the southwest's power dynamics, the specifics remained unclear.

Eyeing the shabby carriage following them, Denise sighed deeply.

"I won't ask who's inside. Better not to know."

This confirmed she'd deduced Lady Freya rested inside with servants attending her.

'Quick-witted and socially adept. Outwardly innocent but harboring a shrewd mind.'

Katia's people-reading skills remained sharp.

Denise likewise sensed Katia had completely seen through her.

'Clever girl. Derek found a good apprentice.'

Quick learners often grew cunning.

Yet Denise showed little such tendency. If anything, her careful courtesy toward Katia revealed remarkable integrity.

If Lady Denise of House Beltus was this cautious, one wondered what Derek had done to southwest nobility.

Smiling faintly, Katia quietly told Denise:

"Your letters mentioned you often. Among Derek's apprentices, he says you're the smartest and quickest to assess situations—always reliable."

"D-Derek said that?"

"Why would I lie?"

"W-well... I suppose not..."

Denise suddenly glanced around, checking if servants might overhear.

Then she swept back her silver-gray hair and sidled closer, whispering:

"Wh-what exactly did he say?"

"Huh?"

"I-if you'd rather not say, that's fine... Just... what words did he use...? How exactly did he phrase it..."

"..."

Watching Denise's awkward yet desperate questioning, Katia could only feel secondhand embarrassment.

She didn't know the details, but Derek clearly had his hands full.

That was the only conclusion.

"This is as far as I can escort you. Follow this plain and you'll reach Ravenclaw Territory's vineyards. Derek likely sent people ahead."

"Thank you for your kindness, Lady Denise. Such luxury for my humble status is overwhelming."

"It's nothing special. Rather, I fear I've inconvenienced you by making a fuss over what should've been a simple journey."

"Nonsense."

Katia smiled and bowed gratefully.

After seeing Denise off, Katia took a deep breath and gazed blankly at the sky.

Though spring approached, unmelted snow lingered in shaded spots.

The sky at winter's edge held a pleasantly crisp clarity.

Breath still visible—proof outerwear remained necessary—yet the warm sunlight suggested otherwise.

Katia loved these transitional seasons.

Like her ever-changing life, seasons revealed new faces just as one grew accustomed.

While stability had merits, Katia preferred life's constant churn.

The peculiar liberation of this long journey proved it.

"Ravenclaw Territory."

That gaunt white-haired boy chewing stale bread in slum alleys now governed his own land.

Paltry compared to Flameheart's golden age, yet considering Derek's struggles, his achievements warmed her heart.

- Caw, caw

Sunlit orchards preparing for next season's harvest dotted the hills.

Famous for wine, the busy harvest season had passed, leaving the territory oddly tranquil.

All this belonged to that struggling boy—now with a home of his own.

Closing her eyes here inevitably brought back memories.

Lying idle in Count Elvester's mansion, they'd often resurfaced.

Katia, determined not to grow attached, had dragged Derek around stone-faced while he clutched her sleeves with tiny determined steps.

Dangerous mercenary streets. Mud-filled roads.

A filthy beggar boy and a fallen noble with nowhere left to fall.

An orphaned child and a childless parent.

In those wild streets where everyone sought to exploit others, clinging together for survival... was likely far from happiness.

Yet those memories persisted because they'd been worthwhile.

As such sentimental thoughts crossed her mind, Katia opened her eyes to find:

"Still quite cold, Master. At your age, you should take care."

A familiar youth had approached, draping a luxurious shawl over her shoulders.

Denise had mentioned Derek would come personally soon.

Lost in thought, she hadn't noticed.

Katia eyed the man before her and chuckled dryly.

"You've grown quite tall."

"My growth spurt ended long ago."

"Grow taller."

"..."

Despite reuniting after years that couldn't be counted on both hands, their conversation remained casual—as if they'd met yesterday.

That was simply their way. Both Katia and Derek.

"I've prepared strong liquor. At Count Elvester's mansion, you couldn't drink freely, could you?"

"I worked hard to reduce my drinking, yet my apprentice encourages it..."

"You needn't drink if it bothers you."

"Got any rum besides wine?"

The two shared a quiet laugh, treating this reunion as utterly natural.

The season lingered between winter and spring.

A lingering chill remained, yet warmth was coming.