Noble Lady Reformation Guide - Chapter 264

"The central officials were in quite a fuss. With you unconscious for nearly four days, they started whispering that they might have to officially announce your death. Though I had my share of worries too, I never truly believed you would die."

"...I heard the general situation from Ryner. While I was confronting Kochella, Your Majesty met my former mentor Drest."

"Indeed. I learned many things—realized many things. Among them... the certainty that you would never die in that place."

Rozelyn, noble by blood and lofty in status, had always been surrounded by retainers.

But now, even a simple conversation with Derek required four or five ministerial-level officials in attendance, with guards lining every corner of the audience chamber.

At this point, privacy was nonexistent, yet Rozelyn lounged with casual ease.

Though part of her relief came from seeing Derek's face, her deliberate display of relaxation before him also served to imprint Derek's authority upon the central officials.

If you're going to crown someone, do it properly.

She intended to widely broadcast that Empress Rozelyn didn't merely trust Count Ravenclaw—she considered him her own.

- Gulp.

The empress's aides swallowed dryly beside the throne.

They'd just returned from sweeping away the aristocratic faction in the state council. The cold-blooded resolve she'd shown then had left the nobles fearing for their necks.

Now, melting like spring snow before Derek, the contrast was jarring enough to question if this was the same person.

'That I would never die there...'

Derek steadied his breathing.

How much did Empress Rozelyn know?

Though carefully choosing her words in this ear-filled hall, Derek could guess. She seemed to have realized something about the true identity of Grand Mage Adelbert.

Which inevitably led to the question: How?

The conversation was veering into delicate territory, making Derek wish the other officials would withdraw.

Yet he couldn't make such a request. Rozelyn's status and authority in Gremfort Palace were now unrivaled—even her most trusted subordinate couldn't meet her alone. Her safety was the empire's safety.

"I glimpsed some memories of your old mentor. Explaining everything would take too long, so visit my chambers tonight."

"Your chambers...?"

"Indeed. With major affairs settled, it's time to tidy up loose ends and finish what needs finishing."

"..."

Derek lifted his head to study Rozelyn's face.

No power under heaven threatened her now. Leaning on the throne with chin propped, she gazed at Derek with a face so cheerful it seemed she might hum—finally the empire's true master.

Then he noticed the faint blue aura swirling in one eye... and couldn't suppress a flinch.

"My, my~. You've noticed something, it seems."

"..."

"This Anti-Magic Seal has never resisted any mana for so long. I delved quite deeply into your old mentor's—that rural mage's—memories. Perhaps influenced by lingering in those damp, sticky emotions."

She pointedly avoided Phee's name.

As the empire's enemy and architect of calamity, revealing any connection to necromantic energy would only tarnish her authority.

Derek swallowed dryly.

To him, Phee was a benefactor—but Rozelyn likely felt differently. Learning Derek had been Phee's most cherished disciple might shock her deeply.

Yet Rozelyn simply smiled, radiating satisfaction.

"Well, no matter. I never held ill will toward you, Count Ravenclaw. But stewing in such intense emotions... even an empress grows impatient. Especially after four days abed—there are limits to how long one can fret. Though given your hardships, I should be understanding."

As Derek glanced around, the aides and noble officials were sweating profusely.

Their nervous glances were almost comical.

Rumors of Derek becoming Imperial Consort had circulated since his collapse. Now, judging by Rozelyn's tone, she treated it as fact.

Who could refuse when an empress opens her arms?

Soon all in Gremfort Palace would be watching Count Ravenclaw's every move—

"...Your Majesty, with all due respect, having just regained consciousness, I'm still somewhat disoriented..."

"Hmm? Were our words so complex?"

"Then to summarize..."

"Summarize what? I said directly—come to my chambers tonight. Even an empress is still a woman. Must I be cruder?"

Rozelyn cleared her throat, cheeks faintly pink.

A subtle change, barely noticeable—yet for someone who maintained constant dignity, this showed remarkable boldness.

"..."

Derek was flustered, though not entirely surprised.

Though she distrusted magic itself, Rozelyn had declared she trusted Count Ravenclaw.

As high society's most eligible bachelor, Derek constantly faced marriage proposals. Becoming consort would end such nuisances while solving all his problems at once.

"Hmph. You offend me."

Seeing Derek's bewilderment, Rozelyn yawned.

"Gremfort Palace is finally mine. Those meddlesome nobles are stewed. Countless across the realm vie for my favor—yet you stand there dumbstruck, blind to your fortune. Truly sigh-worthy."

Officials trembled at her words, fearing her displeasure.

To Derek, Rozelyn just seemed playfully teasing—but the nobles perceived it differently. Whatever carnage she'd wrought in the state council defied imagination.

"And you, my foremost contributor in reclaiming the throne... Can't you rejoice? Rise in celebration? Beneath my skirts, all you desire could be yours."

"Your happiness gladdens me."

"I didn't ascend the throne to receive prostrations. *sigh* All under heaven falls into my hands, yet this stubborn man's heart eludes me."

Sighing as if lamenting her poor taste, Rozelyn clearly had no intention of yielding Derek to anyone.

Monarchs always crave talent. A companion offering unconditional loyalty is rarer still.

With Rozelyn's mind made up, the matter seemed settled—all marriage rumors surrounding Derek now resolved.

Until—

"Empress Rozelyn. Regrettably, I'm unworthy to be Imperial Consort. My aspirations are... too numerous."

The audience chamber froze.

This wasn't just refusing good fortune—it was spitting in its face.

To retreat when the empress advanced—most would pay with their lives.

Even Ryner behind Derek broke into a cold sweat. The unflappable gambler gaped wide-eyed.

"I'm deeply grateful for our agreement at Ravenclaw Academy, but..."

"..."

"As Imperial Consort, I'd reside in Gremfort Palace's Rose Palace, fulfilling royal duties. But my school needs me—disciples await daily instruction."

"I anticipated this."

Rozelyn had spoken unusually much.

She'd expected Derek to cite his disciples in refusing palace residence.

Why had Derek Raidof Ravenclaw forsaken celestial truth to return?

Because... unfinished business remained. His struggles had forged bonds—promises yet unkept.

Especially seeing his disciples become proper mages.

He wasn't some palace parasite content to play politics beneath Rozelyn's skirts. She knew this—hence her urgency.

"I must return to Ravenclaw Academy."

Derek stated it flatly.

How many in the empire could voice such defiance to the empress before whom even aristocratic council heads cowered?

Anyone else would be trampled for insolence beneath Rozelyn's heel.

Yet Derek held his head high, unwavering.

"...Very well. Compromise it is."

After a complicated expression, Rozelyn sighed and smiled wryly.

"What use is an empire at my feet if I can't claim one magic-obsessed man? Such laughable power."

She added ruefully:

"Then postpone palace residence. Finish your business first."

"..."

"But remember—your place isn't the wild frontier, but Gremfort Palace, the empire's heart. And my patience isn't infinite."

Feigning disappointment, Rozelyn glanced at the guards.

A mere look made their spines stiffen—they'd received silent orders to escort Derek out.

The designated guard quickly bowed before Derek.

"So. Straight to the academy, Count Ravenclaw?"

"Yes. Though there's somewhere I'd like to visit first. Opportunities like this are rare."

"Somewhere to visit? I'll arrange a carriage—name it."

"..."

Derek answered offhandedly, chin propped:

"Evelstain."

Early autumn painted the empire.

From Emperor Gertrel's assassination to Empress Rozelyn's ascension... rumors had run rampant.

Gremfort Palace's stability would take time. Though major conflicts were resolved, true peace remained distant.

Once his survival was announced, hectic days would return.

Wanting to meet certain people first, Derek planned his schedule mentally en route to Ravenclaw Academy.

Connections spanned the empire.

He'd forsaken the stars to honor those bonds.

In eastern Elvester County, Katia would oversee the ruined count's manor. Melberot guarded his snowy territory alone. Drest still wandered.

Southwestern noble family heads required explanations. Ravenclaw retainers needed updates.

And he should return to Ravenclaw Academy swiftly.

Too long had passed since instructing his direct disciples. Though letters informed them of his survival, prolonged absence might invite... incidents.

Denis and Elennte were reliable, but Diela and Sirine caused concern.

Another awaited at the academy.

A noble lady—flawless yet occasionally silly—likely sipping tea in Amaryllis House, watching autumn leaves, wondering when the academy's master would return.

"...."

Yet Derek's first destination wasn't the academy or Duplein Territory.

- Swooosh

- Trickle

In early autumn's tranquility, he listened to flowing water.

A dusty riverbank in Evelstain's slums.

An old wooden bridge spanned it—where young Derek sheltered from rain, where an aged mage met his end.

Noble robes stood out here, so Derek descended quietly beneath the bridge.

Dust-coated underside.

Amidst the dirt, a large grave marked by piled stones.

Though visited periodically, it seemed more weathered each time.

The wooden markers young Derek erected as tombstones now looked ready to crumble.

"..."

A rainy day long past.

Beyond, a boy not yet grown dug frantically with a broken shovel through mud and rain.

Now, no rain fell—just crisp autumn air.

The sky stretched vast and blue.

Derek sat quietly by the grave, feeling the breeze. Water's murmur tickled his ears.

Here his journey began.

Here he returned to measure progress.

The nape-cooling wind felt wonderful.

If only life could always be so.

Yet compared to that drizzly past... he'd come far enough.

That sufficed.