Noble Lady Reformation Guide - Chapter 86

"A baron? Becoming a baron? So Derek's becoming nobility? Did... did I hear that right?"

As Derek nodded, Pellin staggered back while clutching her temples as if dizzy. The location was a dark alleyway deep behind the tavern"Beldern's Tear."

After causing quite a scene inside the tavern, Derek had brought her out here to avoid worse misunderstandings or potential bloodshed.

Leaving Aiselin and Sirine with their escorts, he'd busily explained the situation to Pellin to quickly settle matters.

"I need a title. Pellin, you know I want to reach higher realms of magic. To advance without future complications at this stage, I must elevate my status and standing."

"You went north for work... with this scheme in mind?"

"More like the opportunity arose, and I seized it."

Leaning against the gloomy alley wall while stroking her chin, Pellin's expression hardened.

"You know how my hometown Radel Village got wiped out by those damn nobles. I'd rather die than play house with some noble wannabe while putting on airs."

"Don't worry. Just need the formalities. Who else could I ask for this but you, Pellin?"

"Wait... you're asking me to play wife with Derek...?"

Pellin patted her thighs while imagining the scenario, then turned pale.

"Derek... physically... that's just impossible..."

"You think I'm doing this by choice?... I'm suffering too... consider yourself lucky if you don't vomit..."

"...Somehow that stings more than it should."

"Like I'm enjoying this?"

The two stared at each other for a long moment.

To outsiders, their revulsion might seem excessive, but having roamed the mercenary world together since childhood, their relationship resembled family more than romance.

Not exactly warm and fuzzy family—but at least they trusted each other not to betray one another.

After silently crossing her arms, Pellin finally spoke seriously:

"S-sorry Derek. Marriage isn't in my destiny. I'd rather bicker with Jayden and the mercs while scraping by."

"Really, absolutely, no way at all?"

"Derek."

Pushing off the wall and smoothing her tied-back hair, Pellin declared firmly:

"No means no. I'd help with most requests, but this crosses the line."

"...I'll pay you."

"Ha... I may be stingy, but some things aren't for sale. Even if I rubbed elbows with nobles for money, how could you think to buy a woman's hand in marriage...! I'm still a woman, Derek!"

"...A lot. Knowing your efforts, I'll compensate generously. After getting the title, once things stabilize, hefty fees too, then free you... I promise. An amount you can't refuse."

"How can you say that! I love money, but not everything's for sale!"

Derek stepped closer and whispered a specific sum in her ear.

"..."

Pellin shuddered upon hearing it.

"......"

Finally, she glared and declared:

"I'm at your service...!!! HUSBAND!!!"

"..."

...Nothing in this world is absolute.

Pellin was a highly skilled mercenary archer.

Her russet leather blouse layered with wooden light armor, multiple leather belts cinching a worn flare skirt, all covered by a dark hooded cloak—she looked every bit the veteran monster slayer.

With platinum hair tied back sharply, her appearance screamed she'd been killing monsters since childhood. Had Derek not existed, she'd have been Velderun Mercenary Group's rising star.

Now here she stood with hair down, wearing a plain linen dress and straw hat as she entered the tavern.

A carefully calculated outfit to resemble a rural baron's wife—not too lavish, just convincingly modest.

"..."

Jayden voiced his impression upon seeing her:

"Looks like a gorilla in a dress."

"Uncle Jayden..."

"...My apologies."

The tavern had already closed for the night.

Most patrons had left, leaving only Derek, Aiselin, and Sirine seated at the central bar table.

"I instructed her to pick the plainest outfit from the noble quarter's townhouse. This shouldn't... stand out too much."

Aiselin awkwardly glanced between them.

Pellin wore the expression of a lost soul while Derek maintained a poker face, jaw clenched.

To strangers, she might pass as an ordinary housewife—but for those who knew her, the dissonance was jarring.

Don't be fooled by her slender frame.

This was the girl who could dismantle four goblins simultaneously with one dagger.

There were reasons Derek always brought her on dangerous missions.

"Derek... right now... I'm questioning my entire life's choices..."

"Pellin. Don't be so pessimistic... The dress suits you..."

"Say that to my face."

"Damn it... got something in my eye..."

Needing Pellin's cooperation, Derek reluctantly humored her.

Watching them, Aiselin felt strange relief realizing they truly saw zero romantic potential in each other.

Years of mercenary life since childhood had long killed any notions of romance for them.

Dreaming of princes on white steeds or dashing northern dukes was a privilege for well-fed greenhouse flowers.

Having grown up in Duplein's aristocratic environment, Aiselin still harbored some romantic notions.

But Pellin was pure pragmatist, complaining about the dress's impracticality for combat.

"Derek... I'm... sleepy..."

After sipping the honey drink Jayden provided, Sirine dozed off in Aiselin's lap.

Between Pellin's grimace and Derek planning their next steps...

Jayden quietly observed the chaotic scene.

'Whatever happened up north, this is a complete mess.'

Every element felt unstable. He wondered if they could actually secure that barony.

"Derek... getting married...?"

The news of magic instructor Derek's engagement spread after the next Rosea Salon gathering.

"Yes..."

"Oh, my... how sudden..."

Aiselin had finally returned to the salon after her northern venture.

Now fallen from the three great houses, the sight of her scrambling about as a"disgraced noble lady"should have been pitiful.

Most followers had abandoned her, leaving only those lingering out of sympathy.

Thus, Elente and Denis sought to check on her after the gathering, if only for old times'sake.

Despite recent tensions between the three houses, Aiselin had always navigated social complexities with grace.

Neither Elente nor Denis could take pleasure in her downfall.

Yet their sympathy vanished upon hearing Aiselin's shocking announcement in their private meeting.

"Apparently he met a woman named Pellin from Velderun Mercenary Group and plans to build a loving home together..."

Aiselin omitted that this was merely for securing a title. Unnecessary details could backfire.

Thus, Elente and Denis were left stunned.

Not that they'd seen Derek romantically—just a trusted mentor they'd happily employ again.

Yet the marriage news hit harder than expected, leaving them speechless.

Elente set down her teacup, sweating slightly.

"Really..? This Pellin... how long have they known each other for such sudden news...?"

"Childhood friends from mercenary work... Met her returning to Evelstain—very capable and skilled."

"...Is that so?"

Elente recalled the archer Derek once brought as escort during labyrinth training.

'Perhaps Derek would naturally be drawn to battle-hardened comrades rather than sheltered noble girls...'

As Elente pondered, Denis had already pieced together the truth.

'—Lady Aiselin is lying.'

Denis was quick-witted.

Though initially shocked, a sip of tea clarified the situation.

Having noticed Aiselin's feelings for Derek earlier, her calm announcement didn't add up.

'They're forcing a marriage to qualify for that barony.'

If Derek became baron, his territory would border Beltus Duchy.

They might frequently meet at tariff negotiations or trade disputes.

'That backwater barony nobody wants... with his magic skills, he might actually succeed.'

The image of Derek, once just a magic-obsessed instructor, now surfaced differently.

'He's seriously aiming for 4-Star or higher.'

His magical achievements were already extraordinary.

Reaching 3-Star so young suggested potential for 4 or even 5-Star mastery.

'The capital's old fools have no idea. Once Derek becomes nobility, everything will change.'

Denis smirked.

She might have unknowingly apprenticed under a monumental figure.

"Oh my, isn't that Lady Aiselin?"

As they discussed Derek's partner, an elaborately dressed girl interrupted—Lady Trisha of House Renuel.

Placing a flower-adorned dessert tray on their table, her cheerful smile couldn't mask her ambitions.

She coveted Duplein's vacant seat among the three great houses.

'...'

Denis suppressed a frown. In Evelstain's treacherous social ice, facial control was essential.

"Lady Trisha! What a pleasant surprise."

Aiselin greeted her warmly as Trisha studied them with a knowing smile.

Denis nearly clicked her tongue.

Trisha's motive was obvious—to assert dominance over the declining Duplein and rising Renuel.

The noble ladies'vicious power plays never grew easier to stomach.

She'd come to crush Aiselin.