Noble Lady Reformation Guide - Chapter 45

Diela Catherine Duplein exuded an intimidating aura that made casual conversation difficult.

The numerous noble ladies gathered at the tea party could only exchange glances, none daring to approach her first.

Her petite frame radiating such presence stemmed partly from her status as the youngest of the Duplein family, but mostly from her naturally icy demeanor.

Of course, someone like Denise wouldn't be cowed by family prestige alone.

She had been enjoying the tea party's tranquil atmosphere as rare respite from training, her guard somewhat lowered.

Lying sprawled in relaxed comfort, Denise straightened her posture upon noticing Diela's approach.

'The youngest Duplein daughter preparing for her social debut soon.'

Though Denise usually melted into lethargy when unobserved, she could appear perfectly dignified when assuming noble bearing. The antique adornments prepared by her maids for Rosea Salon gatherings completed the illusion of someone befitting the Salon's elite trio.

"You're Lady Denise of House Beltus, correct?"

Diela's tone carried a peculiar blend of bluntness and courtesy.

Despite being newly introduced to Rosea Salon circles, she showed no trace of intimidation.

Denise instantly analyzed Diela's temperament with sharp eyes.

Such confidence among unfamiliar nobles indicated exceptional self-esteem. More unruly wild horse than properly mannered - someone who clearly considered most present beneath her notice, hence unfazed by their hesitation to approach. She only addressed Denise as a perceived equal.

Yet this minimal courtesy didn't mask her fundamentally discourteous nature.

Lady Elente would have frowned immediately, but Denise tended to overlook such things.

"And you're Lady Diela of House Duplein? I'd heard you'd attend today's gathering. As beautiful and graceful as described. An honor to meet you."

"Thank you."

Noble small talk typically involved mutual compliments and respect - after being praised, one should return the favor. But Diela pointedly refrained from acknowledging Denise's angelic beauty.

'How insolent.'

Denise mentally summarized Diela in one word.

Newcomers to Evelstein's social circles typically erred by being either overly timid or excessively bold. Diela clearly belonged to the latter.

Failing to gauge proper social distance wasn't a capital offense - experience would teach her. Denise could overlook this as beginner's awkwardness.

But Diela's next words forced reconsideration.

"I dislike pointless pleasantries, so I'll get to the point."

"..."

"I heard Derek is with House Beltus."

In short, Diela wasn't generally ignorant of etiquette - she was specifically hostile toward Denise.

The reason? That precious magic instructor House Beltus had tightly embraced.

"Derek? Yes... he's teaching me magic."

Derek's sudden mention soured Denise's mood. She'd face more torturous training upon returning home.

Recently he'd begun cooking various market-bought ingredients himself, claiming they aided training. The sight of him freely using the kitchen showed how thoroughly he'd infiltrated the household.

It was terrifying.

Still, she forced a smile - noble decorum forbade showing discomfort.

"An excellent instructor. His daily lessons have helped me tremendously. Well worth the effort to recruit him."

Diela had been Derek's first student.

Though Denise couldn't fathom why anyone would adore that magic-obsessed madman, praising him seemed the politic response given Diela's evident fondness.

Yet Diela only clenched her teeth harder.

"You seem pleased."

'Pleased by what exactly?'

Diela appeared irritated by Denise's satisfaction with Derek's teaching.

Denise finally understood - Diela was jealous.

After sending Derek away from Duplein Manor, Diela had eagerly awaited reuniting with him in Evelstein's social circles.

Yet upon her debut, Derek had become entangled in noble politics as Lady Denise's instructor.

How much reflected his own wishes remained unclear.

However principled Derek might be, commoners inevitably got swept up when three great houses clashed.

Diela wanted confirmation - was Derek teaching Denise by choice?

That he'd abandon even Duplein Manor and refuse Aiselin's requests to teach this inscrutable vixen made no sense.

"..."

Seeing Diela glowering like a growling puppy, Denise realized she needed to reassess.

Earning a Duplein daughter's hostility was burdensome. As someone who perfected even minor social graces, Denise knew caution was warranted.

Yet the more she considered, a new perspective emerged.

'...She wants to take Derek away? Merciful heavens!'

While House Beltus appeared to tightly control that mad mage, in truth the mad mage controlled Denise.

She'd gladly hand him over to anyone - if only Duke Beltus would allow it.

The Duke gripped Derek like a prized chess piece against rival houses'poaching. Only Belmierd or Duplein could negotiate his release.

And Diela Catherine Duplein - the Duplein daughter most desperate to reclaim Derek.

Stars sparkled in Denise's eyes.

'A godsend! Divine intervention!'

The atmosphere had frozen solid.

A prestigious family's daughter had openly challenged Rosea Salon's most authoritative lady during her introductory visit.

As others struggled to swallow nervously, Denise saw halos radiating behind Diela.

'She'll take Derek away! She's declaring her intent right now! Praise the gods!'

She barely restrained herself from hugging the adorable girl then and there.

Returning to her lazy novel-reading lifestyle was worth swallowing some pride.

Yet reason intervened.

Duke Beltus personally held Derek under contract. Openly handing him to Duplein would damage her standing by opposing the family head's decisions.

Announcing Derek's transfer before Rosea Salon's watchful eyes would be suicidal.

But such opportunities were rare - a Duplein daughter personally demanding Derek. She had to capitalize.

"Lady Denise should consider carefully. However impressive House Beltus's prestige, future negotiations with House Duplein may lead Derek to unexpected decisions."

The noble ladies collectively gulped.

Openly declaring intent to poach someone from another great house violated all decorum. Even angelic Denise wouldn't let this pass.

Yet Denise remained serenely composed, as if lounging on a sunny meadow.

'...How can she stay so calm after being provoked like this?'

Diela felt deeply unsettled. House Beltus's famed lady was clearly formidable.

Despite public humiliation, Denise remained unruffled, calmly assessing Diela. Her composure only accentuated her grace.

Diela felt she'd hit an impenetrable wall.

This was the woman who'd secured Derek despite three houses competing. Her capability showed in her sheer presence.

While others sweated nervously, Denise smiled warmly.

"True. No one can predict how things unfold."

"..."

Diela gritted her teeth.

Denise's composure suggested she valued Derek politically rather than as an instructor.

Wasting Derek's talent on such a person was unacceptable.

"Worthy students attract worthy teachers. I'm certain Lady Diela possesses qualities to secure excellent instructors."

"..."

"Do your best."

Pure encouragement without hidden meaning - all Denise could offer now.

To Diela, it sounded like mockery.

"Should you wish to meet Derek, simply send a letter. I'll arrange it gladly."

"No need."

Though genuinely well-intentioned, Diela turned sharply away, grinding her teeth.

Her clenched fists and retreating figure radiated icy fury.

'Do your best!'

Amid the tea party's suffocating tension, Denise cheered inwardly for the adorable Diela.

While others trembled, Denise found her utterly endearing.

Lady Diela's preliminary visit before her social debut became Rosea Salon's hottest topic. She later conversed extensively with Lady Elente of Belmierd and her sister Aiselin.

Unlike her hostility toward Denise, Diela displayed proper noble grace with others.

Yet the Salon ladies had witnessed the truth.

Diela possessed an untamable wild horse temperament. Anyone attempting to manipulate her would get bitten.

She'd successfully established herself as no pushover.

After her formal debut, she might form a faction distinct from the other three great ladies.

Lesser nobles anxiously speculated who would dominate Evelstein's social circles - their family's fortunes depended on aligning correctly.

Beneath the salon's refined surface lay naked ambition and thirst for power.

An obvious truth, yet worth remembering.

Denise walked along the Noble District's central boulevard after leaving the tea party, strolling with servants rather than taking a carriage to enjoy the breeze.

Returning home meant facing that mage's fiery-eyed training lectures. She needed respite.

'Ugh...'

Aiselin and now Diela were desperate to claim that instructor.

Even Elente watched for opportunities.

Other lesser nobles also inquired about hiring him after rumors of his teaching prowess spread.

'I get he's skilled, but this hysteria?'

Everyone acted like Denise possessed some priceless treasure. She felt no pride whatsoever.

'Regardless... to be rid of Derek, I need proper justification. Since Diela wants him so badly... I should create an opening.'

Walking home, Denise strategized how to smoothly transfer Derek to Diela without repercussions.

As her mansion came into view...

"..."

Derek waited silently by the entrance, arms crossed.

His neat mercenary attire, disheveled white hair, crimson eyes and steadfast expression remained unchanged.

Even from afar, he seemed constant.

He exuded mountain-like reliability - the kind who'd remain steadfast through any storm. Likely why he succeeded as a mercenary - employers valued unwavering allies.

"You've returned, Lady Denise."

"Y-you waited here?"

"Yes. You usually walk rather than take carriages for short distances."

Derek had memorized even Denise's minor habits.

"What torture today?"

"Nothing extreme. We'll practice mana control indoors since rain is forecast."

"Ugh..."

"No exhausting exercises. Just reviewing previous lessons."

Their natural interaction had become routine to the household.

Denise found herself being led inside without resistance.

Though her expression remained miserable, resignation brought strange peace. Arguing with Derek had become oddly comforting.

Such was the nature of daily life - someone's presence seeping in like drizzle soaking clothes.

Though constantly complaining, Derek was becoming part of Denise's everyday existence.