Noble Lady Reformation Guide - Chapter 48

The countless social clubs, salons, academic societies, and study groups centered around Evelstein's noble district each claimed different purposes, but in truth, they all shared the same ultimate goal.

To gather prominent figures of this glittering high society in one place for networking.

Of course, lower nobles who attended these gatherings purely for connections were easily spotted, so most pretended genuine interest in the group's stated themes.

Whether magic, tea ceremonies, history, art, or cultural refinement, basic knowledge was required to maintain dignity. This explained why noble ladies devoted entire days to study.

Competition between these groups inevitably grew fierce. Prestigious connections were always limited.

Whenever rumors spread of some family member arriving in Evelstein, various societies and salons often scrambled to offer membership.

Lady Diela's growing reputation in art circles particularly made her a target for art societies salivating over her potential membership.

Even the Rosea Salon, reigning queen among these social groups, sought to recruit Diela due to an unwritten rule shared among noble ladies.

All scions of the three great noble families—considered the most prestigious in the empire's southwest—joined the Rosea Salon. This premise had never once been broken.

This was why the Rosea Salon wielded the strongest influence among Evelstein's numerous social groups.

"I hear Lady Diela refuses to join any salon or society, showing no interest in social activities."

"Border nobles often behave that way, but why would she come to Evelstein's social circles then?"

"Exactly... I'd love to share tea if Lady Diela were amenable..."

During her rare attendance at a Rosea Salon gathering, Aiselin overheard these conversations among followers about her beloved younger sister Diela's disinterest in social engagements.

As family head, the Duke of Duplein greatly valued noble authority. Their mother Miriela and other family members shared this priority.

Even after becoming a household mistress and gaining independence from the main family, one couldn't forever escape these social obligations.

The fact that even the notoriously indolent Lady Denise attended basic gatherings spoke volumes. These grand mansions and honors weren't granted for nothing.

Aiselin sat at the massive tea table with a worried expression.

This prominent round table where she sat with Lady Elente of Belmierd and Lady Denise of Beltus received admiring gazes from countless noble ladies during major gatherings.

Elente, brushing back her fiery red hair, wore a slightly displeased expression, having apparently heard the rumors en route.

"The rumors about Lady Diela's movements are quite persistent. What are your thoughts, Lady Aiselin?"

"Well... Diela has always been strong-willed in family matters. Once she decides, no one can dissuade her."

"I'm not one to rigidly uphold Rosea Salon traditions, but if the unwritten rule of three great families'ladies joining breaks... salon members won't be pleased."

Rules were hard to break the first time—subsequent violations came easier.

If Diela deliberately sidelined all social activities, the Rosea Salon's unrivaled position as the gathering place for three great families'members might be threatened.

With Elente, Aiselin, and Denise currently representing their generation, the salon maintained formidable prestige and influence... but long-term, Diela's deviation spelled trouble.

A subtle tension thus flowed among Rosea Salon members, noticed by all three ladies.

Only Diela's formal membership could reassure them of maintaining their exclusive status.

Yet those who'd witnessed Diela at the gathering instinctively knew—the youngest Duplein daughter wasn't someone easily persuaded. Her doll-like demeanor barely concealed an iron will.

She'd even confronted Lady Denise upon their first meeting—showing readiness to antagonize anyone who displeased her.

This wild creature seemed barely socialized, and only Derek's intervention had made her debut possible at all.

Thus while Diela's social debut itself was celebratory, numerous problems remained.

Ultimately, the salon could only rely on Aiselin.

As the Duplein daughter Diela respected most and the family's most recognized young lady, only Aiselin might influence her.

Yet Aiselin sighed deeply.

Diela respected Aiselin but didn't obey her requests or instructions.

"Speaking of Diela, I heard she committed a discourtesy toward Lady Denise recently. As her elder sister, I'd like to apologize."

"Me?"

Denise, who'd been spacing out, suddenly reacted.

Since taking Derek as her instructor, she'd grown increasingly exhausted—a fact not lost on Aiselin or Elente.

Derek wasn't an instructor just anyone could handle, and Elente silently offered condolences.

"Don't trouble yourself over it."

"Diela has that temperament, but she's not ill-natured. I hope you'll set aside any resentment toward her for my sake."

"Resentment? None at all."

Denise actually regarded Diela as a godsend.

While Denise's followers watched her reaction when Diela was mentioned, Denise herself paid no mind—instead contemplating how to repay the adorable girl who might free her from Derek's clutches.

Paradoxically, this calm demeanor elevated Denise's reputation—maintaining grace before that wild noble lady was no easy feat.

Beyond the tea party incident, Diela continued making rude remarks toward Denise, ignoring or glaring at her during chance encounters.

When one of Denise's followers finally scolded Diela about propriety, the girl reportedly poured wine over the offender's head while lecturing about status differences.

This confirmed rumor cemented Diela's reputation as an uncontrollable force of nature among noble ladies.

'I'm not sure Diela can properly adapt even if brought into the Rosea Salon.'

Aiselin wrestled with this concern.

Even with Elente and Denise's help, she needed extraordinary measures to manage Diela.

Finally, Aiselin studied Denise with a serious expression.

Denise awkwardly tilted her head under this gaze.

"Lady Denise, I have a request."

The most eye-catching mansion along Evelstein's central avenue.

Servants quietly assisted Diela as she meticulously inspected the interior.

Her frilly dress resembling a duke's standard accentuated her doll-like charm, though considering how she'd soon reign as this mansion's tyrant, her petite frame somehow loomed larger.

While checking construction progress and preparing for next month's debutante ball, Diela remained vigilant for overlooked details even during maid-assisted grooming.

The servants trembled under the little girl's razor-sharp scrutiny.

"My lady, a letter arrived from the Rosea Salon with the next gathering's schedule."

"Showing my face once should suffice—what more do they want?"

"They seem intent on formally welcoming you, my lady."

"More of that unwritten rule nonsense trying to leash me. I won't go where my heart isn't inclined."

Diela flatly refused.

Not even her beloved sister Aiselin could sway her stubbornness.

During her troublemaking days, this willfulness manifested as selfishness and nuisance.

But with gained social awareness and worldly understanding, that uniqueness became an unapproachable individuality and indomitable regal quality.

Though still young, she'd already begun attracting retainers within House Duplein who might one day rival even Valerian and Raeg's followings.

Kind, considerate leaders earn universal affection—they make suitable rulers.

But those fit for monarchy differed subtly.

They knew how to bend others without compromising grand decisions for subordinates'moods, keeping the world beneath their feet.

None above, none below—only I exist.

No phrase better described this petite tyrant.

"Since yesterday's inspection, visitors multiplied—bearing gifts, claiming distant relations, professing admiration. All obsessed with connections while their magic remains mediocre."

"Many appointments today as well. Grooming may take longer for receptions."

"Make it quick. Honestly, I doubt most are worth meeting. Their greedy eyes betray ambition beneath pretended indifference. When will they realize their rotten cores reek?"

Evelstein officials, prominent merchants, scholars, and senior mages sought audiences with the Duplein's youngest, yet none impressed her.

When some minor noble claiming Denise's affiliation dared lecture her, Diela had no choice but to douse the woman in wine.

Though rumors spread about her tyrannical temperament, Diela remained unfazed—only regretting wasting fine wine.

Her attendants swallowed dryly—who could possibly leash this unruly lioness for the Rosea Salon?

Attempting to force her might get you devoured instead.

"Today we expect senior representatives from Renfel Trading and Odet, a 4-Star mage from Arlan Magic Society."

"Mediocrities all. Fine, I'll humor them in the reception room... though it feels utterly wasteful. Ouch! Want to die?"

Diela sighed until a hairbrush caught in her tangled locks provoked her wrath.

The trembling maid immediately knelt.

"F-forgive me, my lady!"

Diela's icy glare pinned the prostrated maid.

In her prime troublemaking days, she'd have kicked the maid outright.

But Diela had learned the difference between commanding charisma and meaningless delinquency.

"Don't repeat this mistake."

The maid tearfully apologized repeatedly under this cold dismissal.

Fear was an efficient tool for managing people—but indiscriminate use made one a reckless troublemaker.

The girl had instinctively understood this since childhood.

"Fine, they're all clambering for Duplein connections... but no harm in looking. Even a drought yields occasional beans... Keep the morning schedule."

"There's another matter before breakfast. Not critical—House Beltus sent an envoy."

"House Beltus?"

Diela's sharp gaze made the messenger gulp—Beltus was this girl's raw nerve.

"Why should I receive them? Tell them to leave any letters and go."

"A-are you certain? The envoy likely represents Lady Denise's authority..."

"Making me repeat myself? Be grateful I'm not throwing water this time. Hurry this grooming!"

Diela shook her hair and returned to the mirror, eager to finish this ritual and meet those worthless visitors before magic practice.

Just as she surrendered to the maid's ministrations—

"Actually... the envoy is Derek, a mage from House Beltus... Will that be acceptable?"

"...What?"

Diela's spine instantly straightened. The attending servants held their breaths at her sudden transformation.

The icy tyrant's expression instantly reverted to that of a normal girl her age.

"What? Derek's coming? He barely shows his face outside Beltus duties!"

"W-we don't know Beltus's exact circumstances..."

"Why didn't you say so first?! W-wait... meeting so suddenly?"

Diela frantically looked around—only routine attendants were present.

"K-Katarina's at the main house... Where's Laila? She does best with grooming...!"

"Preparing breakfast in the kitchen."

"Call her immediately! And this outdated frilly dress... My good cosmetics are all at the main house...! What do I do?!"

Diela began bustling about anxiously.

Though merely receiving a letter from a Beltus envoy, she grew more nervous than for any noble guest, sweating profusely.

"Why schedule this so abruptly! Before breakfast...?!"

"W-well... it's just receiving correspondence... not an aristocratic visit..."

"You should've consulted me! If it's before breakfast... what time is—"

The Beltus carriage was already clattering down the street.

Diela hurried to her vanity with a panicked expression.

Her foot-stomping resembled prey spotting a predator—utterly unlike her usual self.

The maids paled witnessing this unprecedented behavior.