Noble Lady Reformation Guide - Chapter 30

As Elente walked down the corridor, everyone she passed offered words of comfort and encouragement.

While Lady Aiselin had drawn all eyes by manifesting 2nd Grade Magic, Elente had also displayed her own considerable magical prowess without holding back.

The nobles who recognized the value in her efforts smiled warmly, complimenting her impressive performance.

They were merely stopping by to greet Elente before approaching Aiselin—a fact Elente was well aware of. Yet she maintained a graceful smile and dignified demeanor.

"My magical achievements still fall short in many ways. I'll have to work harder to defeat Lady Aiselin next time."

"Even at your current level, few in Evelstain's high society could match you, Lady Elente. Count Belmiere would be delighted if he saw you now."

"Thank you. Your kind words truly encourage me!"

With heartfelt gratitude for even these forgettable nobles'consolations, Elente turned the corner. Her attendants trailed behind with worried expressions, yet Elente herself looked surprisingly lighthearted.

To observers, her confident stride as she walked away seemed anything but that of a defeated duelist who'd prepared so desperately. Her smile appeared unshakable.

Just as she entered a less crowded VIP corridor, Derek rose from a wooden chair against the wall to greet her.

"Did you watch the duel?"

"Yes."

"Surprised? I know when to admit defeat."

"..."

Elente puffed out her chest with satisfaction.

"Too far to see clearly? You should've seen Lady Aiselin's face."

"How was it?"

"How? Hehe... Her eyes went this big!"Elente's voice bubbled with excitement as she gestured."'You're forfeiting here?'She kept staring at me like she couldn't believe it! The ever-graceful Lady Aiselin looking so dumbfounded—what a sight! Far more satisfying than grinding my teeth for victory!"

Derek glanced at the attendants lined up behind her. Their awkward expressions mirrored his own as they exchanged looks.

Elente continued beaming, chest still proudly inflated.

"And you actually cornered Lady Aiselin midway! Everything you predicted was spot-on. You're truly the expert in these matters."

"You flatter me."

"Thank you. Thanks to you, I got to feel superior to Aiselin for once... Today was perfect!"

Laughing loudly, Elente brushed dust off Derek's collar with familiar pats, her tone dripping with contentment.

"I must acknowledge your skills, Derek. I'll pay extra gold coins beyond our agreement."

"..."

"So, how was the duel? The outcome wasn't ideal... but my magic wasn't bad, right? You know better than anyone how quickly I learn. As my teacher, your assessment matters most. Though if you're going to nitpick improvements, let's discuss them back at the manor—"

"It was flawless."

Elente's pupils trembled.

When she looked up at Derek's face, his usual stoic expression held an unfamiliar warmth. He was sparing with praise, never offering empty compliments even to nobles. This sincere acknowledgment could only mean one thing—he saw through her bravado and was being considerate.

"You've worked hard."

Elente's retort died in her throat. She slumped onto a corridor bench, heedless of her rumpled dress, and wiped her face several times. Her back had begun trembling imperceptibly.

"I... really wanted to win."

"..."

"But when I had Aiselin cornered... I suddenly understood. Even if I defeated her here, my jealousy wouldn't disappear. I'd... just stay like this... This is who I am."

To Elente, even a flustered Aiselin on the verge of collapse had seemed like a sublime blossom. Winning a practice duel through luck wouldn't erase her envy. The ugliness within wouldn't change. Aiselin remained an insurmountable wall by her very existence.

"In inferiority alone, I might surpass Lady Aiselin."

Elente chuckled bitterly and fell silent, fearing her voice might crack. As she trembled with face in hands, Derek quietly sat beside her.

After some thought, he spoke plainly without fuss:

"I'm no different."

"..."

Lengthy persuasions about right and wrong would only waste breath. Knowing this, Derek simply gazed at the ceiling beside her.

This gave Elente space to reflect. What thoughts had this slum-born mage harbored while viewing the expensive spellbooks in noble libraries or the opulent mansions? The answer required little guesswork. The difference lay only in whether one showed it—and whether one accepted it. Growing up likely meant precisely this.

When Elente looked up at Derek with damp, widened eyes, he said as if stating the obvious:

"So what if it's ugly?"

"..."

"Everyone lives like that."

Right, wrong, good, bad—such judgments changed nothing. This was simply how things were. An obvious truth.

As Derek said this, he simply remained seated beside Elente.

Comforting someone isn't some grand act. What's needed isn't some clear answer.

At the deserted corridor's end, attendants formed a protective wall lest anyone pass by. No one could see the noblewoman weeping there, however long she stayed.

'Wow—she actually had her cornered.'

Lady Denise of House Beltus lounged in the spectator seats, sipping tea served by attendants, inwardly astonished. While all eyes were on Lady Aiselin—the duel's true protagonist—Denise's gaze lingered elsewhere.

As one of the Rosea Salon Trio, she knew both women's magical capabilities intimately. Elente's achievements were impressive, but she should have been no match for Aiselin.

Her eyes followed the white-haired boy leaving the dueling grounds with Elente. The magic instructor Elente had brought must have been the difference. No other explanation existed for such rapid improvement.

Twirling a lock of silver hair, Denise pondered. She should join the crowd congratulating Aiselin, though the delay wouldn't matter with so many well-wishers present.

'That mercenary's fee will skyrocket. Ugh... how bothersome...'

Forcing an antiquated smile to mask her lethargy, Denise inwardly groaned. The coming events seemed painfully predictable.

Competent magic tutors were priceless in Evelstain's high society. Though his lowborn status would hinder him, his talent suggested he'd soon overcome such prejudices. Then Denise's father—the ambitious Duke Beltus—would inevitably take interest.

Unlike the dignified Duke Duplein or bold Count Belmiere, Duke Beltus aggressively acquired anything valuable. Any magic tutor gaining renown in Evelstain would become his target.

And unfortunately, Denise—as the Beltus family's social representative—would bear the brunt of these schemes. She found such situations tiresome.

'If all three great houses start competing for that boy, my headaches will only worsen...'

Denise was fundamentally lazy. Despite her noble bearing, she preferred lounging in her mansion reading third-rate romance novels. Her plan was to coast through life attached to her family's prestige.

Still, to avoid becoming a burden, she maintained appearances—practicing refined smiles in mirrors and dropping cryptic remarks to seem profound. In this regard, she was quite disciplined, enduring minor hardships to avoid greater troubles.

However, spotting Derek's talent early gave her no immediate advantage. He was currently employed by Elente.

'Please don't let this develop into something troublesome...'

With a deep sigh, she rose. Most well-wishers had dispersed by now.

As a fellow Rosea Salon member, basic etiquette required offering Aiselin congratulations. Though inwardly groaning, Denise knew her duties as a noblewoman.

Approaching the platform with a practiced aristocratic smile, she said:

"Lady Aiselin, you've achieved another milestone. Every moment of the duel was thrilling."

"Oh my, such praise from Lady Denise leaves me speechless."

"I must learn from your humility. If only I could manifest 2nd Grade Magic too."

After exchanging such pleasantries, Denise was mentally preparing to return home and resume her abandoned novel—Sir Balepheus's First Love, a cliché-ridden romance whose occasional poignant lines made it tolerable—when:

"—You know the truth, don't you, Lady Denise? That I didn't truly win this duel."

The startling question snapped Denise from thoughts of her reading nook. With most spectators gone, Aiselin had dropped formalities.

Just as Denise understood Aiselin and Elente, Aiselin similarly grasped Denise's sharp eye and lazy nature. Occasionally, she skipped pleasantries for blunt questions.

Though appearing gentle and virtuous, Aiselin wasn't to be underestimated. Still, Denise hadn't expected such directness.

"..."

"Your silence suggests agreement."

"Lady Elente clearly worked hard. But your magical prowess remains superior—that hasn't changed. At least, that's my view."

"I wonder... I was quite shocked during the match. To improve so much in such short time..."

Aiselin's dazed expression sharpened as she continued:

"It's because she learned from Derek, isn't it...?"

"..."

Seeing the certainty in Aiselin's eyes, Denise sighed inwardly. The situation was already growing complicated.

"Daisy."

After politely excusing herself from Denise, Aiselin called for her maid while heading toward the exit. When the attendant bowed in response, Aiselin continued in her usual gentle tone:

"Prepare to send a letter to the family estate."

"At once. I'll have the quill and ink ready."

Denise watched Aiselin depart with a complicated expression.

The much-anticipated magic duel between Houses Duplein and Belmiere had concluded smoothly. Yet Denise sensed this was merely the beginning.