Noble Lady Reformation Guide - Chapter 17

- Creak

As the heavy iron gates slowly opened, the air inside the library rushed out.

The musty scent of dust, the odor of aged paper, and the peculiar aroma emanating from magic-infused tomes mingled to tickle the nostrils.

The marble floor felt unpleasantly cold beneath cautious footsteps.

Magical torches lining the walls cast an eerie blue glow. Even just glimpsing the bookshelves bathed in that light gave off an inexplicably mystical atmosphere.

"...This exceeds expectations."

Derek swallowed dryly.

The shelves were densely packed with books lavishly decorated in gold and purple hues.

Spines engraved with strange symbols he'd never seen before shimmered faintly.

It was a sight so wondrous he couldn't believe such a place existed. A commoner like him had no right to enter here.

Derek pulled out one volume from the shelves.

Its cover was wrapped in supple leather, embroidered with delicate golden threads that glittered extravagantly.

The crisp sound of turning pages. The musty scent of aged paper tickled his nose.

The densely packed characters on the fragile, thin pages were entirely unfamiliar.

'A 3-Star Magic Tome...'

1-Star Magic Tomes were something commoners could obtain through considerable effort. Though expensive, and merely owning one didn't guarantee learning the magic within.

But 2-Star tomes were difficult for anyone below wealthy merchants to acquire, while 3-Star tomes often commanded exorbitant prices.

And here were shelves overflowing with 3-Star tomes. Truly, the library of one of the western continent's top three Ducal families was in a league of its own.

However, gaining access to these tomes didn't equate to mastering their contents. Most were theory books based on the Noble Discipline School's principles.

While Derek's natural magical aptitude allowed him to adapt Noble Discipline theories to his own style, even he found some aspects of 3-Star magic daunting.

'Definitely challenging.'

After flipping through a volume at the reading desk, Derek reached his conclusion. 3-Star proficiency was no easy feat.

Even among properly pedigreed nobles, 3-Star mages were considered highly skilled practitioners.

If nobles regarded them as elite, commoners might see only one or two such mages in their entire lifetime.

Derek himself had heard of scarcely any commoner 3-Star mages. At most, rumors about Tracy, a 3-Star Detection Magic specialist from Evelstein Magic Academy.

'Staying at the Ducal Mansion might be worthwhile after all. Pellin would throw a fit if she knew.'

Pellin was an archer who'd worked with Derek in the Velderun Mercenary Group for years. Her intense hatred of nobility meant she'd scoff at him wasting time here.

Yet the temptation of 3-Star magic was undeniable.

Though currently the theories seemed impenetrable and mana manipulation too complex, he felt if he gritted his teeth and pushed through, he might achieve something.

'...Still can't stay forever. My magic ultimately belongs on the battlefield.'

Derek quietly mused while gazing at the shelves overflowing with spellbooks.

After Raeg and Diela's sparring match, the Grand Duke of Duplein officially recognized Derek as a member of the Ducal household.

With the territory's ruler personally stamping approval, no one in the mansion could openly object.

Derek's role became staying at the mansion temporarily to further instruct Diela in magic.

"I'm a 1-Star mage now."

Three days after resting, when Derek visited Diela's guest house, her injuries had mostly healed. Though she'd bled, the wounds weren't serious.

As Derek brushed off his neatly maintained mercenary attire and entered, Diela stood arms akimbo, beaming proudly.

"...I thought you'd be more upset. When you lost the spar, your eyes were definitely brimming with..."

"Gah! Don't bring up embarrassing memories I'm trying to forget!"

"Still, you seem in good spirits. I saw you using 1st Grade Magic during the spar. Your growth is remarkable."

"Of course!"

When Derek offered genuine praise, Diela's face lit up with a radiant smile. She looked ready to bounce with excitement.

Though crestfallen after her defeat, she recovered quickly once it became clear the Grand Duke wouldn't expel Derek.

"I told you, right? When I put my mind to it, I can do anything."

"..."

"Why that skeptical look? Shouldn't you be happy your student achieved results? Come on, wipe that expression off."

"I am genuinely pleased."

"Doesn't sound very heartfelt..."

Diela pouted, scrutinizing Derek, but the street-hardened boy's poker face was impenetrable to someone so young.

Derek had always been inscrutable, so Diela gave up trying to read him. She just sighed dramatically and flopped onto her frilly bed.

"Anyway, since you fought hard to keep your position, you'll teach me more magic, right?"

"Your enthusiasm is commendable, but for now, focus on mastering basic mana control. Learning 1st Grade Magic is impressive, but wielding it freely is another matter."

"Hmm... true. Compared to how you use magic, my range is limited, and even one spell exhausts me."

"That's due to weak fundamentals. Magic's foundation lies in efficient mana utilization. The same spell varies in power and efficiency based on proficiency."

Derek explained this knowing she likely wouldn't be satisfied.

Mages always craved greater achievements after breakthroughs. Having just succeeded with 1st Grade Magic, Diela would naturally want to learn more varieties, risking superficial understanding.

Derek had prepared responses for when she inevitably demanded other spells.

"Hmm... alright. If you say so."

But Diela just propped her chin on her hands and answered indifferently.

Derek crossed his arms, observing her with mild surprise. His eyes held curiosity.

"W-what? Why that look? Is it so strange I'm being cooperative? Didn't I respect your opinions from the start?"

"From the start... you did pour sewage water on my head..."

"...You still remember that?"

"...Do people normally forget?"

Diela's cheeks flushed as she averted her eyes, fidgeting with her fists on her lap.

Even noble young ladies weren't immune to the sudden shame of past embarrassments that made one want to punch walls or scream into pillows.

Seeing her squirm uncomfortably, Derek sighed and perched on the bedside table.

"Regardless, magic lessons will continue as usual... but you'll be busier."

"Ugh... did you hear too? Starting next week, etiquette classes begin. Preparations for high society debut..."

"Congratulations. Mastering 1st Grade Magic means you've acquired noble basics. Now you must cultivate ladylike refinement."

"...Frankly, I don't want to."

"...You must."

Diela flopped onto her bed, clawing at her golden locks. A despairing wail escaped her.

"Basic noble etiquette, foreign languages, geography, history, botany, piano, sewing... must I really learn all this?"

"Likely just introductory overviews. After your coming-of-age ceremony, the real studies begin."

"...How did Aiselin unnie handle all this?"

"Hence why she's called the Flower of Duplein, shining in Evelstein's high society."

Aiceline Eleanor Duplein.

Having already built extensive connections beyond Evelstein's northern walls, she essentially served as the Duplein family's public face.

Rumors abounded of countless smitten suitors, though she reportedly declined them all with polite smiles.

While high society primarily served as marriage markets, she seemed focused on building connections to benefit the Duplein family.

No wonder the family adored her. Even as Grand Duke, he'd beam with pride.

"I just... want to study magic..."

"..."

"But... this mansion and noble status don't come free... I'll do what's required..."

"Lady Diela..."

Derek looked at her solemnly.

"...You've learned to say such mature things..."

"...Derek, you know exactly how to wound someone's pride."

"That's a misunderstanding."

"Ugh."

Diela sprang upright, sitting on the bed and swinging her legs petulantly.

"But since you'll keep teaching me magic, I'll learn quickly. I want to master 1st Grade Ice Spear."

"No need to rush. No one's challenging my teaching position now."

"Is... that really true?"

Diela suddenly looked worried. Derek understood her concern perfectly.

"You mean Duchess Miriela?"

"...Though Father acknowledged you, Mother won't stay idle."

"Is that so?"

"Even if she can't remove you immediately, she'll find a way eventually."

Diela looked anxiously at Derek as she voiced her worries.

"She might fabricate faults... create reasons to expel you."

"Reasons... what reasons would Duchess Miriela have?"

"Your methods lack noble dignity. She fears it'll tarnish my reputation in society..."

"Then it's simple."

"Simple? You don't know my mother."

"Lady Diela. Silencing Duchess Miriela is easier than you think. Remove her justification."

Derek casually dropped this bombshell while perched on the table, arms crossed.

"Ultimately, doesn't this situation's control lie with you?"

"...Huh?"

- Chirp, chirp.

Mornings came early at the Ducal Mansion.

By the time birdsong trickled through the windows, lower retainers were already tending gardens or inspecting cleaning.

Various overseers managed them—head butler, head maid, head handmaid, head chef—each department had its leader.

And overseeing them all was the mansion's matriarch.

- Clack, clack.

Duchess Miriela, out early to inspect the staff, gritted her teeth as usual.

Since the spar, her expression had remained stern.

Though slapped by the Grand Duke and pitied by servants, her thoughts centered solely on Diela.

'I'll never accept that vulgar tutor. Even if my husband approved, I must speak the truth.'

Her beloved youngest daughter suffering under that commoner's influence was unbearable. The staff tiptoed around her irritation.

'How could that lowborn teach noble etiquette? I won't allow Diela to learn gutter manners instead of noble grace.'

Closing her eyes, she imagined Diela's future humiliation in society with crude manners.

Miriela was marching through the main hall, organizing countermeasures, when she spotted her youngest daughter.

Diela approached the main house as usual, leading servants, dressed in frilly dresses and pretty ribbons.

Brightening at the sight, Miriela moved to embrace her.

She longed to dote on her daughter after so long.

"Oh, Diela! How lovely you look today!"

But instead of rushing into her arms, Diela demurely lifted her skirt and bowed.

"I hope you rested well last night, Mother."

"Eh...?"

"Recovering kept me in the guest house, delaying our reunion. I'd love to chat, but unfortunately, I have piano lessons this morning."

Diela smiled gracefully, excusing herself with Aiceline's poise.

"Oh, oh... is that so?"

"We'll have tea this afternoon. I've yet to hear about the southern social gathering. Now if you'll excuse me..."

Miriela knew about Diela's new etiquette classes—introductory content requiring frantic tutor hiring. But formal manners instruction hadn't started yet.

Yet here was Diela, transformed, displaying perfect decorum. The stunned staff froze in place.

A gardener dropped his lumber, too shocked to move.

After years of Diela smashing plates and kicking servants, who could have reformed the tyrant?

Yet the girl curtsied properly before gracefully ascending the main hall stairs.

"Oh dear. Lumber everywhere. Do be careful."

"Y-yes... L-Lady Diela..."

Miriela could only gape at the scene.