Noble Lady Reformation Guide - Chapter 50

Diela, having fully completed her debutante preparations, arrived at the Rosea Salon the very next day.

She'd finished inspecting her mansion and had mostly completed the salon admission procedures.

For Diela—who'd been growling at countless noble ladies—to personally extend a hand to the Rosea Salon was so unprecedented that public interest in Derek, the man who'd supposedly tamed this roaring lioness, skyrocketed.

Rumors swirled that he possessed a silver tongue that would make even renowned merchants jealous, that his striking looks could enchant any woman's heart, or that he was the hidden scion of some wealthy noble family concealing vast riches.

Denise found such gossip utterly ridiculous.

Most were baseless, but the mere fact that this Derek character had completely persuaded Diela to join was impressive enough.

"Greetings, Lady Denise. I've reviewed all the correspondence you sent last time."

Yet even Diela, lured here by Derek's persuasion, hadn't completely shed her temperament.

Though promising to maintain amicable relations with the Rosea Salon, she had no intention of stopping her efforts to pry Derek from House Beltus.

Diela immediately drew all eyes upon entering the gathering, striding straight to greet Denise first.

Naturally harboring no ill will toward Diela, Denise welcomed her with a heavenly smile.

"How delighted we are by your salon application. Having Lady Diela—the Duplein family's jewel—grace us with her presence is truly an honor."

"How kind. Anyway, I've considered your proposal. Shall we schedule a magic duel next week?"

Diela's speech completely lacked noble decorum.

Brushing aside Denise's attempt at light conversation, she cut straight to the point, indifferent to surrounding stares.

Though somewhat rude, Denise found nothing particularly objectionable. If Diela wanted Derek badly enough, she'd only be grateful.

"Indeed. Having heard much of Lady Diela's exceptional magical prowess, I've been eager to test our skills."

"If I win, House Beltus must nullify Derek's contract entirely."

"That would be my father's decision. I assume you've brought suitable compensation?"

Diela paused briefly before crossing her arms and lifting her chin.

"Should I lose, I'll purchase'The Granary Plains of Korhes'from your mansion using Duplein funds. Heir Apparent Valerian has approved this."

Denise's expression momentarily stiffened.

The implications weren't immediately clear. Even Aiselin and Elente nearby looked puzzled.

'The Granary Plains of Korhes'referred to a large painting carefully stored in Denise's basement vault—a southwestern continental landscape by the renowned late Countess Repondor.

How could purchasing this constitute such an extraordinary condition?

Before others could process this, Denise smiled gracefully.

"Certainly, having our artwork purchased at fair value is flattering. That Lady Diela—with her discerning eye—would pay its worth only enhances my reputation as a collector."

Denise rapidly concocted plausible justification.

Diela briefly smirked but offered no further comment.

"Are you certain? Paintings by the late Countess Repondor command astronomical prices."

"Name your price. Though I doubt it'll come to that."

"Very well. At that level, Father would likely approve."

Denise answered with a beaming smile.

She only needed Diela to propose terms plausible enough for a duel. Secretly, she had no intention of winning.

Yet Diela's wager was shocking.

Other ladies wondered why purchasing a painting mattered so much, but Denise remained tense.

"I'll send details by correspondence,"Diela said, arms still crossed as she turned sharply, several lesser nobles immediately flocking to her.

Even after such bluster, some still sought her favor.

Derek awaited Denise's return at the mansion that evening.

Reviewing training schedules while awaiting her, his presence had grown so natural Denise sighed in resignation.

She had to admit—Derek had become as commonplace as air.

"Lady Denise. You've worked hard today. After supper, we'll deepen your 2-Star detection magic—"

"Did the head butler inform you?"

"..."

"Lady Diela challenged me to a magic duel. If I lose, you'll transfer to House Duplein."

Technically, House Beltus would merely terminate his contract.

Where Derek went afterward would be his choice, but Duplein was the obvious option.

As someone hanging on Derek's every word, aligning with Diela clearly benefited him most.

Yet Derek immediately pierced through pretense.

"This was your design, wasn't it?"

"...Tch."

Derek possessed unexpected sharpness.

Though appearing single-mindedly devoted to magic, his analytical gaze saw through deception easily.

Denise's behavior, salon demeanor, and odd lack of hostility toward Diela all pointed to her orchestration.

Half-lidded, Denise exhaled deeply.

It was time to clarify her stance.

"I'll admit—you're an excellent instructor."

Changed into a frilly dress, Denise perched on her bed, silver-gray hair cascading like liquid.

The white-haired mercenary remained impassive as ever. Though verbose when lecturing magic, he maintained perfect composure.

"At first your methods overwhelmed me, clashing terribly with my lazy habits... but I'll admit there was meaning in the effort. Mastering magic became... somewhat enjoyable."

"...How unexpected. I never thought you'd admit finding magic fun."

"I-I have some pride too! After all that stubborn refusal, suddenly confessing it's'kinda fun'is embarrassing!"

Denise's indoor/outdoor personas differed completely.

Outside, she epitomized noble grace—inside, an utterly pathetic sloth.

Too proud to accept Derek's earnest guidance outright.

"Regardless, since you're clearly an excellent instructor, staying with House Beltus benefits you little. Especially as my teacher. When opportunity arises, transfer to Duplein."

"Lady Denise is the beloved jewel of House Beltus, coveted by all in Evelstain."

"You see one side only. Since matters have progressed this far... and Duplein seems aware anyway, I'll explain."

Arms crossed, Denise studied Derek intently before smirking.

"I'm nowhere near as valuable as you imagine."

Rising, she led Derek down to the mansion's basement.

"Know what Diela wagered in our duel? That if she loses, she'll purchase'The Granary Plains of Korhes'from our basement."

"...What does that signify?"

The descending staircase grew damp and dark.

Unusually sparse for a noble mansion's basement.

Derek conjured faint light magic to illuminate their path as Denise continued downward.

"Is purchasing a painting that significant?"

"You wouldn't understand yet. But knowing the context, you'll see why Father must accept."

Reaching the basement's end, they faced a large wooden door carved with antique patterns, labeled"Art Storage."

Denise pressed the Beltus seal against it, channeling mana until the door creaked open.

With a nonchalant gesture, she beckoned Derek inside.

The vault contained various artworks—renowned paintings, sculptures, instruments, clay figurines—each displayed with elegant plaques confirming their value. An odd collection for a socialite's mansion.

"I never knew we had this art vault."

"Unusual for noble mansions. Unlike art connoisseur Diela, I've no such interests."

Sighing, Denise surveyed the dim, humid chamber containing only herself and the stoic mercenary.

Wandering between exhibits, she casually showcased various treasures to Derek—though no art expert, even he recognized their worth.

Deeper inside, a large draped display case appeared.

[The Granary Plains of Korhes - Rogdel Agnes Repondor]

"This is it? The painting Diela promised to buy?"

"Care to see?"

Denise drew back the drape—revealing a completely blank canvas.

"..."

"Impressed? Do you grasp Countess Repondor's artistic vision now?"

"I've seen Lady Diela employ negative space, but... this appears purely blank. Frankly, I see nothing."

"Ahaha... naturally. This painting doesn't exist."

As Derek stared, Denise—indifferent to dust staining her dress—perched on a display case, tying up her hair.

"Only existing in ledgers. Though prolific, Countess Repondor never painted this."

"..."

"Officially, I purchased it with family funds. An extravagant but plausible expense for a noblewoman's mansion—a credible'artistic investment.'"

Derek asked nothing further.

This exceeded what any common tutor should know.

"House Beltus has been skimming taxes?"

"Great endeavors require independent funds unseen by the Empire. That requires... creative accounting."

"Your idea or Duke Beltus's?"

"Does it matter? Father and I are family."

Denise's hollow laugh confirmed this mansion served as a money-laundering front.

Though tax evasion was common among border nobles, being personally implicated differed from tacit approval.

"...Diela proposed purchasing this."

How purchase a nonexistent painting? Through ledger adjustments between houses—a mere penstroke.

Derek now understood Diela's true offer: House Duplein would absorb this accounting flaw and provide liquid funds—an extraordinarily generous deal.

For a house like Duplein, concealing such irregularities was trivial—the deeper the forest, the easier to hide treasure.

Noble dealings often revolved around concealing such mutually incriminating secrets.

Diela had seen through this, recognizing Denise's complicity.

"Sharp-eyed, that Diela. Underestimated her. Never thought she'd strike so directly."

Young, inexperienced, and brash—yet her flashes of noble insight hinted at formidable future potential.

Only Derek could rein her in.

"The Three Great Houses'representatives are all like that. None are easily managed."

"True, Derek. Like Lady Aiselin and Elente, they wield power rather than being wielded by it."

Rosea Salon's elite ladies—each groomed to command authority—would likely make names for themselves within years.

Yet Denise only smirked bitterly.

"I'm just a chess piece."

Unlike Aiselin or Elente, Denise's privileges stemmed from cold utility, not familial love.

Duke Beltus's calculating gaze held no affection—she was merely another component of House Beltus's machinery.

A common enough noble reality.

"See now? However the Rosea Salon adores me, House Beltus cherishes me only as a tool. Eventually, I'll either take blame for tax fraud or be sold off in marriage. That's reality."

"..."

"The other salon ladies are the exceptions—strong-willed, commanding their households'respect, making principled decisions... They're worthier investments."

Though initially intending to manipulate Derek into leaving, Denise's words carried unexpected sincerity.

Despite constant complaints during training, she'd secretly come to respect him.

Derek's eyes narrowed at the silver-haired girl slumped defeatedly on the display case—her wings long clipped.

A broken bird forced to keep flying on shattered wings toward an inevitably grim end.

Hence her urging: Go to Duplein.

Whether with Aiselin or Diela, Derek would stand beside true power-brokers—his prospects infinitely brighter.

Even proud nobility rarely voiced such advice so bluntly.

Yet to Denise's eyes, Derek belonged in deeper waters.

Initially focused on reclaiming her lazy lifestyle, encountering Diela had shifted her perspective.

Because ultimately, Denise was merely House Beltus's workhorse.

"No rebuttal?"

"Your logic is impeccable."

"Good. Contact Duplein when ready."

As Denise smirked, Derek delivered his devastatingly simple reply:

"No thanks."

"...?"

The refusal left Denise momentarily dumbfounded.

Certain she'd heard correctly, she gaped at Derek.

"I appreciate the consideration, but shouldn't I decide my own path?"

Denise looked utterly baffled.

By all accounts, remaining her instructor was objectively disadvantageous.

Yet Derek simply moved to sit beside her on the display case—an action she couldn't comprehend.