Noble Lady Reformation Guide - Chapter 200

'A ceiling both familiar and unfamiliar...'

By the time Tricia opened her eyes, the opening ceremony schedule was nearly complete.

With dormitory applications finalized for each student, all that remained was for dormitory representatives to review the candidates.

Yet Tricia simply lay sprawled across her private bed in Sepia Dormitory, her head still spinning.

Apparently, academy staff had brought her here themselves.

"..."

Noticing the darkened scenery outside her window, Tricia wiped her face several times before muttering quietly.

"I want to die..."

"Is that so?"

"Eeek...!"

Tricia shuddered in shock, having assumed she was alone when voicing her lament.

Unsurprisingly, Derek sat beside her, reading spellbooks borrowed from the Duplein family library.

Considering how frantically busy Derek remained daily, she hadn't imagined he'd wait in this Sepia Dormitory corner.

Tricia hastily cleared her throat and straightened her posture, lifting her nose haughtily.

"Lord Ravenclaw... I hadn't expected you to come all the way here. Ohoho. Ohohoho."

"......"

"...I showed disgrace. I-I've actually accumulated considerable fatigue lately. With so many matters requiring the Renuel family's attention... greater nobility naturally bears greater responsibilities, as you well know..."

"......"

Derek's casual attire seemed long overdue—apparently considerable time had passed.

He appeared to already understand. Tricia's current distress stemmed not merely from yesterday's events, but from prolonged tension.

The accumulated pressure from constantly rubbing shoulders with superior talents had finally erupted. This incident was merely the trigger.

Realizing this, Derek had waited patiently beside her, feeling her condition warranted checking.

Despite his perpetual busyness, the man knew when to plant himself firmly in one place. This realization made Tricia gulp dryly.

"Countess Rodea regularly sends letters entrusting Lady Tricia to my care. Accompanying gifts and regional specialties arrive so frequently that I couldn't help but grow concerned."

"M-Mother did...?"

"Indeed. Countess Rodea seems perpetually worried about you. Though feared continent-wide as the Butcher of Rodentz Island, her vigor noticeably wanes when discussing you."

Derek closed his book and placed it on a side table, whispering:

"Yet I never imagined Lady Tricia would feel so cornered. I understood intellectually but failed to empathize."

Though Tricia had behaved pathetically during the dormitory presentation, Derek showed no signs of condemnation.

It had been a critically important occasion. That Derek remained so lenient suggested he'd never held expectations for Tricia to begin with.

This thought further darkened Tricia's expression.

"Truthfully, I rarely consider Lady Tricia's perspective. As mentioned, my magical training consumed me so completely that I've never experienced being surpassed... or left behind."

"Naturally. They say Lord Ravenclaw possesses innate magical talent beyond compare."

"However, mastering magic and teaching it are entirely separate skills. Observing Lady Tricia revealed something—I cannot empathize with those left behind, labeled as inferior."

The conversation took an odd turn.

Rather than scolding Tricia, Derek seemed to be confessing his own shortcomings.

Tricia, having just risen from bed, wore a thoroughly bewildered expression.

She'd thought herself raving nonsense during her breakdown, yet somehow Derek's estimation of her seemed to have risen.

'Wh-what... what did I do...? Huh...?'

Though sweating profusely, Tricia couldn't grasp how events were unfolding.

Times like these demanded louder"ohoho"laughter and shoulder-shrugging declarations about finally recognizing her worth.

Yet to laugh arrogantly... she needed to know why.

The reason for Derek's sudden goodwill remained unclear.

Thus Tricia could only tilt her head in continued confusion.

"I've learned something from you, Lady Tricia."

"Y-you learned from me?"

"...?"

"....?"

An odd silence lingered between them.

Feeling the conversation's rhythm mismatched, Tricia shook her head sharply and laughed her signature"ohoho"to diffuse tension.

"Ohohoho... Th-thank you for saying so. Though my magical skills may lack somewhat... I remain a lady of the prestigious Renuel family...!"

"Regardless, Sepia Dormitory has many applicants now. Slightly fewer than others, but numerous students chose based on you."

"R-really? They... chose me...?"

Though uncertain what moved them, Tricia nodded and accepted the documents Derek offered.

Papers filled with personal details. Unfortunately, not many.

"......"

Yet as Tricia reviewed each document, her shoulders gradually relaxed.

At Rosea Salon gatherings, many had clung to her with admiring eyes.

Most were calculating social climbers eyeing her family's influence.

But those she'd met since Ravenclaw Academy's founding... felt fundamentally different.

These students who chose based on her also seemed distinct from high society acquaintances.

Memories surfaced of her late father Hughton the banker lowering his fishing rod to say:

No need to lose heart. Bonds form everywhere—stand tall with shoulders squared, and connections will follow.

All her desperate efforts to keep pace in high society's cutthroat world paled now. Yet bonds arrived through the most unexpected channels.

"Silly students. With such splendid dorms and representatives available... why choose Sepia..."

During salon gatherings, she'd watched Aiselin's followers from afar.

Their sparkling eyes differed from her own followers'—eyes she'd never understood while chasing status.

This was how it worked all along.

Tricia bowed her head, memorizing each name on the documents.

"Ah, speaking of which... you might want to watch your words around the other ladies."

"...Pardon?"

Having confirmed Tricia's condition, Derek brushed off his pants and stood.

With work undoubtedly piling up, he seemed ready to return to the main building.

Yet before leaving, he delivered an odd remark with characteristic dryness:

"Lady Diela, Lady Elente, and Lady Denise might not have appreciated certain comments. Lady Sirine seemed indifferent though..."

"Wh-what do you mean?"

"Well... those half-conscious remarks after leaving the stage... Do you not remember?"

Derek shook his hand vaguely.

Apparently he'd already discussed this with the other ladies.

Tricia tried recalling what she might have said.

No memory surfaced. In her drunken-like state, she'd likely blurted whatever came to mind.

"Wh-what exactly did I say while... mentally compromised...?"

"..."

"Lord Derek... why that expression...?"

"I understand. You'd just left the stage excited... pupils spinning wildly... In such states, words spill out uncontrollably..."

"Please tell me what I said...! Please...!"

Tricia's last memory was approaching Derek to apologize, heart pounding, before spectacularly vomiting. Likely from whiskey gulped in a corner to calm her nerves.

What words escaped during her feverish daze remained lost to her.

"Just... something resembling declarations of war against other dorms."

"..."

"Questions about whether greenhouse flowers had ever truly failed... warnings not to be swayed by armchair theorists... Ramblings really... But perhaps stirring competitive spirit is its own skill."

"I said that?"

"...Were you drinking?"

"..."

Tricia clutched her mouth, trembling like a rodent whose home had collapsed.

"Still... some students found your challenging attitude inspiring... So perhaps not entirely bad."

"H-how did... the other ladies react...?"

"...Better not to know..."

"......."

- Creak

Leaving Tricia's wails behind, Derek closed the door.

With opening ceremonies concluded, damage control remained.

- Swish

Walking the corridor, Derek reviewed letters from Elvester County.

The sender wasn't Border Count Elvester nor his subordinate Katia, but his youngest daughter—Lady Freya of Count.

6-Star Necromancer, Lady Pine Rafaela Tigris of the Barony.

The most dangerously formidable mentor Derek ever had, and the most twisted disciple he'd ever taught.

Her recent activities filled the letter, suggesting Border Count Elvester already sensed unusual developments in Tigris Territory.

'...Border Count Elvester's letters usually come from Mentor Katia. Why is Lady Freya writing now?'

Something significant seemed imminent in the eastern continent.

The woman who'd settled in that barony's corner, waiting for Derek... had begun moving.

Derek had much to prepare. With the academy stabilized, confronting Pine was necessary to fully secure the political situation.

The death sovereign who could extinguish lives with a finger-snap surfaced in his mind.

She desired Derek in her grasp more fiercely than anyone.

"..."

Derek gazed momentarily at Ravenclaw Academy's scenery outside.

Time flowed, status transformed, and responsibilities multiplied.

More to protect demanded greater power.

He needed to reach 5-Star immediately.

"Derek...!"

The voice interrupted his deep thoughts.

Turning, he found Aiselin panting urgently.

"Lady Aiselin...?"

"You were in Sepia Dormitory...! Derek! Right now... Mentor Katia is at Duplein Manor...!"

"What?"

She worked in eastern Elvester County.

Her presence in Duplein Territory during these times was... peculiar.