Noble Lady Reformation Guide - Chapter 267

The place Derek took Aiselin was a shabby tin-roofed shack in a corner of Evelstain's market district.

Though already cramped enough to offer little privacy among the laborers living there, Derek's shack was oddly partitioned by large wooden walls.

It was strange to carve out such personal space where workers normally lived shoulder-to-shoulder. Wealthy folk wanting privacy wouldn't reside here. As expected, Derek casually produced a key and stepped inside.

"Th-this is..."

"My residence during mercenary days. Originally Mentor Katia's dwelling before she left for Elvester County and bequeathed it to me."

"You had people maintaining this place separately?"

"An old retired butler as caretaker. He needed occupation anyway, so it worked out."

As Derek strode in, Aiselin hesitantly followed behind.

Her waist ached from the long horseback ride.

Though she'd planned to sleep soon, finding herself in dawn-lit Evelstain left her stunned.

When Derek opened another wooden door inside, a modest room appeared.

The single-room shack was spartan—just a bed, a rotting wooden table, and a few scattered utensils like candlesticks and spoons.

The caretaker clearly hadn't entered—likely on Derek's orders.

"Y-you lived..."

"Visited occasionally to remember... though finding time became difficult after receiving my title."

"So this is where you spent your youth. How should I put it... It's quite..."

"Small and shabby."

"That wasn't what I meant..."

"Hardly fit for a Duplein family noblewoman. What purpose bringing honored guests to this dusty room?"

Derek brushed off a small wooden chair and sat down.

Aiselin fidgeted before eventually perching on the bed.

"Unless... the guest isn't merely honored."

"Eh? Wh-what?"

"As you see, this humble place lacks all refinement. Drafts seeped through cracks nightly, creaking wooden windows grated endlessly, rats and insects were daily visitors. Thieves sometimes broke in, or drunks caused disturbances."

Leaning back, Derek studied the worm-eaten table.

Memories surfaced of a small boy clutching the 2-Star spellbook Katia left him—that tiny frame nurturing grand dreams while desperately cramming knowledge into his head.

Derek was a heaven-sent genius among geniuses.

Yet he never grew complacent. As often happens, those called geniuses typically work hardest of all.

Derek proved no exception.

Here, amid knife-like winds and drunkards'vomit, he practiced magic endlessly. Never forgetting to reach skyward from society's depths.

He loved magic, endured life.

Walking this path, realization eventually came.

He'd thought learning magic here was for survival.

But the opposite was true. Derek survived to learn magic. Having something to devote himself to—reaching for distant heights—that alone gave life meaning.

"Here I dreamed lofty dreams while studying magic. Without such purpose, I'd have died in some gutter like other slum dwellers."

"..."

"Evelstain's nobles and imperial officials say Count Ravenclaw lived radiantly—making thousands kneel, reigning over commoners, every moment blazing with glory."

Name any heroic figure from textbooks, and it's surely Count Ravenclaw.

All remember this white-haired noble who seemingly strolled through flower fields his whole life.

Yet peel back one layer, and you find this dusty, shabby room.

Crickets chirped in late night.

From the alley came sounds of a drunk stumbling before crashing down.

"..."

After sitting quietly, Derek slowly spoke again.

"You've known me long enough to understand, Lady Aiselin. Still, bringing you here holds personal meaning. Thank you for humoring me."

"Meaning... what meaning?"

"As you see, my foundational home lacks all splendor. Not the flower-filled life legends claim. Neither morally upright nor holding irreplaceable ideals. Yet..."

Derek's quiet voice seeped into the hollow autumn night air.

"I thought to bring here whoever became my life's companion. That's all."

Why he'd maintained this place through hired hands despite leaving long ago.

This humble shack Mentor Katia bequeathed formed the foundation beneath Derek's dazzling life.

Neither splendid nor unique. Rather shabby.

Listening quietly, Aiselin slowly shook her head.

"It's been a while. I can't agree with you this time, Derek."

"Huh?"

"It's not shabby."

Hearing his reason for bringing her, Aiselin smiled softly, composure returning.

Though deep night reigned, faint firelight danced in her luminous eyes.

She could easily imagine young Derek at that small desk, pouring over spellbooks day after day.

A boy still bearing childish features sitting there before donning mercenary gear to venture out, only to return and sit again.

Night and day reversed, seasons changed outside. Leaves fell, snow came, greenery returned—yet the boy remained constant amidst shifting time.

The place might seem shabby, but that unchanging figure studying by candlelight was sublime.

"Effort and striving often appear shabby and unseemly. At least that's my view. The sight of ignorant, unskilled people struggling to improve often seems pitiful. That's... entirely separate from status or material wealth, Derek."

"..."

"The world sees splendor, but effort's path is always quiet and still. You simply sat here studying spellbooks as always."

With warm expression, Aiselin recited the passing years as if she'd witnessed them.

Though visiting for the first time, she spoke like a regular guest.

Despite her privileged upbringing, she understood this much—the road to lofty goals is rarely glamorous.

This understanding prevented her from calling the modest room shabby.

"I don't know your thoughts, but I'm glad I came."

The overworked girl, rarely at ease, smiled brightly for once.

Even Evelstain high society's flower could smile like any girl her age. Heartfelt smiles share universal language.

"Thank you, Derek."

Early autumn skies stay clear and lofty night or day.

Soon dawn's vitality would return to the city.

At sunrise, they'd officially return to Ravenclaw Academy, announce their survival, review academic affairs, and resume life's long journey.

Perhaps this rare moment was their true respite.

Derek rose calmly and approached Aiselin's bedside.

As he drew near, Aiselin—lost in his memories—abruptly raised her eyes.

"D-Derek?"

Though constantly together, tonight felt different.

Most crucially—late hour, no observers, and this place holding Derek's deepest meaning.

Men and women should maintain propriety, but that's for strangers—not those discussing marriage.

What comes after marriage talk? Coincidentally, a sizable bed lay behind Aiselin.

Derek sat beside her and placed a hand on her shoulder.

"D-d-d-d-d-d-d..."

The simple name she'd uttered hundreds of times now stuck in her throat.

Though she'd anticipated something extraordinary when dragged out at this hour, Aiselin found her racing heart uncontrollable when the moment arrived.

"D-d-d-d... D-d..."

"..."

"I-I mean... that is..."

Watching Aiselin freeze like a broken doll, Derek hesitated.

At this stage, what was there to hold back? Yet forcing unwilling partners was despicable.

Moreover, the location.

Meaningful to Derek, but was this shabby place suitable for a society lady's romantic first memories? Perhaps disrespectful.

Finding proper timing and location wasn't difficult.

With no urgency—today being just one of many days—Derek spoke gently to the trembling girl.

"Are you unwilling?"

"N-no...?"

"The location may discomfort you. We could postpone until..."

"No! Not that! I'm not unwilling!"

Aiselin interrupting Derek was likely unprecedented.

When Derek stared wide-eyed, Aiselin realized her overreaction.

Blushing crimson, she clutched her face and whispered hoarsely.

"Just... how to say... I've imagined this but... no experience... don't know what to do... so... yes."

"..."

"Y-you understand... right? As a society lady... I've heard vulgar talk but... never been in this situation..."

Watching Aiselin ramble, Derek realized something.

She needed assertive partners in such moments. Who else could take charge with a Duplein noblewoman? Time for Derek to act.

He pulled Aiselin back onto the bed.

As moonlight streamed through the window, Aiselin saw Derek assuming control above her.

Far different from nighttime fantasies.

Reality always outpaces imagination.

When Derek pinned her wrists and leaned down, Aiselin exhaled slowly. Her rising breath felt lava-hot.

As their bodies aligned and breaths mingled... Aiselin tightly shut her eyes.

The long night had only begun.

At dawn when Aiselin awoke... Derek had already returned from market with fresh clothes and supplies.

Though Aiselin remained dazed from last night's shock, Derek seemed refreshed.

- Chirp, chirp, chirp

Returning from washing at the well, Derek found Aiselin buried under blankets reliving embarrassing memories.

Occasionally her tiny fists punched the bed or innocent blankets—a very human display.

Having never contorted her body or raised her voice like that before, last night was entirely new. As said, reality always outpaces imagination.

"Eeek, D-Derek..."

"Sun's risen. We should depart early for Ravenclaw Academy."

"Y-yes! Yes, right!"

Aiselin's sudden loud reply came with a gulp.

Derek sat on the wooden chair, drinking cold water from a wooden cup.

"Much to settle after Gremfort Palace. Time to conclude everything."

Derek seemed pensive.

Academic affairs needed resolution, as did personal matters.

He'd survived the empire's fateful battle, touched magic's pinnacle.

Yet work remained unfinished.

Though destined to reach the stars, for now he remained an earthbound mage.