Noble Lady Reformation Guide - Chapter 236

"To My Beloved Father,

The weather has grown much warmer here.

The climate of Duplein Territory is so different from Rocheste Territory where I spent nearly my entire life that it feels refreshing to begin a letter with such casual remarks about the weather. Unlike my hometown where blizzards rage year-round, here spring brings flowers, summer lush greenery, autumn falling leaves, and winter returns to tranquility.

It's been quite some time since I came to Ravenclaw Academy bearing the Rocheste family name, yet many things still feel unfamiliar. Particularly the need to wear dazzling dresses daily and maintain dignified conduct, or learning tea ceremonies and court etiquette that hold no interest for me—it's all quite burdensome.

Still, lately as I fall asleep each night, I find myself thinking how fortunate I was to come to Ravenclaw Academy. Lying beneath the covers in my private room at Lavender Dormitory, the stars outside my window seem to descend right beside my pillow.

As I reminisce about all I've experienced since coming to Duplein Territory, I often find myself drifting off to sleep and waking to morning light... Such nights repeat themselves daily now.

Is this what happiness feels like?

It would be a lie to say I enjoy every class, but for learning magic, there truly is no place like this.

Derek stands supreme among all the mentors I've encountered in my lifetime.

If possible, I wish to learn magic from him forever. Why hide it? These days as I pull the covers over myself to sleep, his face appears on the dark ceiling above, seeming to change each time—a marvel to behold.

His youthful mercenary days, his more rugged appearance after receiving noble title, the stress-filled days managing Ravenclaw Academy that made him seem somehow more human... Each multifaceted yet consistent aspect of Derek accumulates in my heart like treasured layers.

Lately I catch myself thinking only of Derek, often shaking my head abruptly. What magic will I learn today? What mana techniques will he teach? Might he have time for tea?... Spending days occupied with such trivial thoughts feels like the greatest blessing.

The days when I was intoxicated by bloodlust, holed up in the spire watching blizzards through the window, feel like distant history.

Now my world seems filled with vibrant colors, and I feel nothing but gratitude toward you, Father, for bringing me such a wonderful teacher.

And though I asked to keep this quiet for now... let me secretly tell you—during our last spar, I manifested 4-Star magic for the first time. This too was achieved through my duels with Derek, and the ecstasy coursing through my body then... that indescribable rapture remains unforgettable.

Surely you and Derek have tasted this sensation before? That feeling like electricity coursing through the brain—I'm left constantly craving higher realms.

Derek could take me to those stars.

You once said a mage's path changes dramatically depending on their teacher. How true that is. When I think of Derek—who completely transformed my life, my light—even now as I move this quill, my breath quickens and my chest tightens.

I have a premonition that my time at Ravenclaw Academy will remain etched in my memory forever.

So please don't worry. I spend each day brimming with happiness—simply look forward to how I'll continue growing.

From Ravenclaw Academy in Duplein Territory, as greenery turns lush.

Sieren Aleina Rocheste

P.S.: You're not considering any... political marriages between House Rocheste and House Ravenclaw... are you...?

Of course I couldn't meddle in territory affairs, but... purely personal curiosity..."

"..."

Melberot's daily joy was reading Sieren's letters.

With Sieren leading a busy life, she couldn't write home often—understandable given the distance. As usual, Melberot nodded with his typical cold, expressionless demeanor, accepting when letters grew sparse without complaint.

Yet he kept all her letters neatly stacked in a drawer, rereading them during idle moments. At this point, his identity as a doting father was undeniable, though he maintained his icy facade.

"Hmm..."

After finishing the latest letter—no, his daughter's newest correspondence—Melberot set down the parchment with a grave expression.

"Is something the matter?"

"No, I just read Sieren's letter. As always, it's filled with happiness, which puts my mind at ease."

"That's truly wonderful news. We servants are all delighted to hear Lady Sieren is living normally now."

"Yes. That said..."

Melberot slumped in his office chair, shaking his head.

"The content has become... increasingly... heavy, shall we say... or perhaps cloying..."

"...Pardon?"

"...Perhaps it's nothing. I've become aware lately that I tend to overanalyze Sieren's words and expressions."

What father wouldn't scrutinize his daughter's letters while she studied abroad?

Having reread the letter four times already, Melberot naturally noticed differences from previous correspondence.

Initially, Sieren simply praised Derek as a good teacher, a respectable mage... But recent letters described him as"light"..."hope"... vowing never to let go... growing increasingly intense and cloying.

One might dismiss it as adolescent sentimentality... but too many aspects felt unsettling.

Especially since Sieren had already blushed over Derek during her last visit home.

Derek was undoubtedly exceptional, but a father's perspective changes when his daughter seems bewitched.

Not that he'd oppose out of principle—but this feeling of his precious daughter being swept away was impossible to reconcile.

Was Derek unworthy? No.

Was Sieren undeserving? Also no.

This inexplicable ambivalence left him conflicted. Even the great archmage Melberot was new to fatherhood.

"It feels like having part of my flesh torn away."

"..."

"Leighton. What would you do?"

The head butler hesitated. As a father of two beloved daughters himself, he understood perfectly.

To a doting father like Melberot, even the imperial crown prince wouldn't be good enough. Persuading him was like communicating with the deaf.

Objectively speaking, Count Ravenclaw was the best possible match imaginable—almost excessively so.

Among nobles, it was common knowledge his marriage to Pellin was nominal—effectively leaving him single.

"...Your answer is delayed. Speak your mind."

"...Were I Lord Melberot, I would spare no means to arrange marriage between Lady Sieren and Count Ravenclaw."

"..."

Truly, the head butler of House Rocheste.

Even before his lord clutching his golden daughter, he voiced objective truth.

"You know Count Ravenclaw's direct disciples—Duplein's sisters, Belmierd's heir apparent, Beltus's influential figure... even Countess Rodea's own daughter."

"..."

"Frankly, if my daughter were his direct disciple, I'd encourage her to seduce the unmarried count. Would other houses stay idle?"

Tricia of the Renuel Family already endured daily pressure from Countess Rodea to"tumble Derek down"—though the brash girl was hopeless at romance.

Regardless, others would scheme more ruthlessly to claim the count extending influence even to Gremfort Palace.

Pure-hearted, magic-obsessed Sieren would naturally fall behind.

"At least I won't decide my daughter's marriage that way."

"...Consider what's truly best for Lady Sieren. Do you think Count Ravenclaw will remain single forever? When that changes, what trials might she face?"

"..."

"Heartbreak strengthens some, but breaks others—especially sensitive adolescent girls."

Leighton was eloquent.

As veteran head butler managing House Rocheste's staff flawlessly, he understood noble customs intimately.

"Beltus needs a son-in-law to help overcome their crisis. Duplein is essentially Count Ravenclaw's right hand. Renuel already actively courts him."

"..."

"If we leave him unattended until he slips away, how will Lady Sieren recover?"

Here, Leighton paused.

A strange empathy formed between fathers of daughters. That emptiness when releasing a tightly guarded treasure—these passionate men understood.

"Damn it."

Melberot rarely swore.

"I must decide... before it's too late..."

♪ ♬ ♪

Sieren surprised herself by humming.

Such girlish cheerfulness—the more time she spent at Ravenclaw Academy, the more human she became.

'Has Father replied? He's always terse, but still heartwarming.'

Though Melberot reread her letters endlessly, his replies were brief and dry.

"Doing well."Or,"Contact me if problems arise."

Reading such curt responses felt quintessentially Melberot.

Only conventional phrases, yet she cherished that he never forgot to reply despite his busy schedule.

'Though my last letter contained unnecessary sentiments...'

Late-night stargazing with quill in hand bred excessive sentimentality.

As usual, thinking of Derek by candlelight infused her letter with embarrassing vulnerability.

In hindsight, it felt awkward—though praising Derek's teaching was hardly strange. Nor was feeling affection toward him.

Melberot would surely reply with his usual terse encouragement—which Sieren loved most.

With these expectations, Sieren broke the seal on the letter delivered by her maid.

"I shall arrange marriage with Count Ravenclaw. Specifics will follow next week. Visit Evelstein Noble District's dress shop to prepare accordingly. Payment has been arranged."

"..."

"P.S.: Absolutely do not inform other disciples. Complications would arise."

"Heya, Derek~! Or should I say Count Ravenclaw now~. My, what brings you to summon this lowly one?"

"..."

Derek needed someone to monitor Gremfort Palace periodically.

Ryner seemed ideal, but as they met, an eerie chill ran down Derek's spine.

"What's with that face... I may haunt gambling dens, but I'm not that ugly..."

"No, not that... Just a sudden premonition..."

An overwhelming sense of impending catastrophe surged through Derek—stronger than during Elvester Territory's crisis.

No obvious threat existed, yet this foreboding persisted.

Unfortunately, premonitions rarely lied.