Noble Lady Reformation Guide — Chapter 151: The Youngest Disciple (3)

Chapter 151: The Youngest Disciple (3)

Although‌ she had in‌‍⁠ front of her‌ a cup of⁠ tea with a strong aroma of‍‍ rosemary leaves, Trisha felt not even⁠⁠ the slightest intention‍‍ of bringing it⁠ to her lips.‍⁠

Seeing‌ that man sitting‍⁠ in front of⁠⁠‍ her made her⁠‍ want to down‍ cold water in‍ a single gulp‌ instead of excellent-quality‌ tea.

However,‍ she could not‍⁠ show such an‍ unrefined behavior, so‌⁠ she held back, although she could⁠‍ not avoid letting a tired expression‌‍ slip out.

Just‌⁠‍ by looking at⁠‍ him, she felt as if she⁠ aged ten years.⁠

“I‌⁠ knew that Lady‍‍ Trisha does not‌‍ exactly consider me‍ someone comfortable.”

The‍‍ one who took‍ the initiative first‌ was Dereck.

Without‍‌ elaborate greetings or⁠‍ phrases to break‌ the ice; he‌ simply spoke as‍⁠ he was, with his arms crossed.‌⁠

Even‌‌ nobles with a decent title treated⁠⁠ a distinguished young‌‌⁠ lady like Trisha‍‌‍ with extreme delicacy when meeting her,‌‌ but this man‌ did not show‍‍ even a trace of that caution.‌‍

It‌‌ was not as⁠ if people like him did not‍⁠⁠ exist—rural peripheral nobles‍⁠‍ often spoke in‍ such a direct‌‍ manner. But Trisha‌ was not very⁠ fond of that⁠ style.

Even⁠‍ so, no matter⁠‌‌ how arrogant or‍‍ capricious she was,‌⁠ Trisha was the‍ daughter of an important noble family.‍

She‌⁠⁠ had at least⁠ the minimum training‍ in etiquette and⁠‍⁠ conversation, so replying‌‌‍ even to someone like Dereck was‍ something natural for‍‍ her.

“Of⁠ course, I can’t‌⁠ say I’m completely‌⁠ comfortable. Lately your‍ name has gained too much renown…⁠ how could I treat you casually?⁠⁠ The influence of⁠‍ Lord Ravenclaw is‍⁠ such that…”

That‍ Trisha spoke of‌⁠ “treating him comfortably”‍‍‌ had a meaning—she‌ usually showed contempt‌ toward those she‍ considered below her.

When‌ she found someone⁠ weak, she crushed⁠‍ them without hesitation⁠‌ to place herself‍⁠ above.

Arrogant‌⁠‍ and authoritarian to‍ the core. Dereck‍ had already seen‌‌ that side of⁠ Trisha several times.‌‌

And‌ from Trisha’s perspective,‌ pretending modesty before someone to whom‌ she had already‍ shown all her⁠ worst facets also‌ felt somewhat absurd.⁠

If⁠ she was going⁠‍ to be exposed⁠‍ anyway, she preferred to speak frankly.

“…Fine.‌ I will admit⁠⁠ what I must‍‌ admit. Baron Ravenclaw⁠‌ is not someone I can treat‌ lightly.”

Even‌‍ though Dereck’s title⁠⁠ was limited to‌ baron, his influence‍ in Ebelstein’s society‌ was something no one could ignore.⁠

He‌‍ had even restored‍‌ the lost dignity‌‍‌ of the Duplain,‌ whom everyone thought doomed to disappear.‍⁠

Political‍‌ power was not‌ something he lacked.⁠‍

Of⁠ course—so what?

Even‍‌ so, Trisha was⁠⁠ still the only‍⁠ daughter of Count‌ Renuel.

Even⁠ if Dereck was‍ at his peak,⁠‍ she had enough⁠‌⁠ status to keep her head raised.‍

She would not let‌‍ herself be intimidated.‌‌ With that thought,‌ Trisha straightened again‍ and let out‍ a little laugh.⁠

“You‍ may consider it‌⁠‌ a great honor.⁠ I, Trisha, do‌‍ not easily acknowledge‍⁠ anyone. I hope⁠ Lord Ravenclaw appreciates‍ that properly.”

“Yes. Very grateful.”

“Ugh…”⁠

But‍‌ Dereck never allowed‌ himself to be⁠‌ dragged by Trisha’s‍⁠ rhythm.

When‌ someone spoke to⁠ her like that,‌‌ normally they reacted‌⁠ with anger or‌ lowered their head.⁠

But⁠‍ he showed no⁠⁠‌ emotion.

And⁠⁠⁠ that made Trisha‌ feel as if⁠‌‍ she were a child performing antics‌‌ before an adult.‌

In‌ the end, she‍⁠‍ was the one‍ who ended up‍‍⁠ frowning and sighing.‍‌⁠

“Every‍ time I see‌⁠‌ you, I feel‌⁠⁠ that Baron Ravenclaw‍ does not care‍ much about me.”‍⁠

“If Lady Trisha already‌‍ feels burdened by‍ me, what can⁠⁠ I do?”

“Well…⁠‍ you’re not wrong…‍ haaa…”

Trisha‌‌ let her shoulders‍ drop and sighed‌⁠ deeply.

Then,⁠‍ looking at the‌‍⁠ hand holding her‍ feather-decorated fan, she‌ murmured in a voice that slipped‍‍ downward.

“I‍⁠‌ will tell you‍ directly.”

In this brief exchange,‍‍ she had understood‌ something.

In‌ front of such‌⁠ an impenetrable man,‍ speaking indirectly or‌ attempting mind games‍⁠ was completely meaningless.⁠⁠

He⁠⁠ was a mercenary‌‌ who had always‍ lived in the⁠⁠‍ practical world; he was immune to such subtleties.

So⁠⁠‍ only speaking clearly remained.

“I‌ want to become⁠ Lord Dereck’s disciple.”‍

It‌ was a huge‍‍‌ gamble for Trisha.⁠‍

She‌‍ pushed the cup‌⁠ aside, set down⁠‍ the fan, removed⁠ her gloves and‌‍ tossed them onto‍‍ the table. Then‍‍ she gripped her‌⁠ knees tightly.

Dereck, who was about‍‍‌ to take a sip of the⁠⁠ rosemary tea, lifted‍⁠‍ his eyes slightly, surprised.

It‍‍ seemed he did‍‌ not expect her‌‌‌ to retreat so⁠⁠ far in posture.‌

“Are‌‍ you interested in‌‍ magic?”

“No.‌‌ I am not‌ especially talented, nor⁠‍ do I have‌⁠ great ambitions.”

“…Then,⁠ why do you‌ want to enter‌⁠ as a disciple?”‌⁠

“Because‍ by being Lord⁠ Dereck’s disciple, I can draw closer‍‍ to secular power.”‌‌⁠

Too‍⁠ honest.

Normally‍⁠ one would say‌ something like “I‌ want to become a great mage.”‍

But⁠‍ Trisha lowered her⁠‍ gaze and affirmed⁠‌ it with complete‍ seriousness.

That‍ caught Dereck by‌⁠ surprise.

He‍ did not expect‍ Trisha to confess⁠ so openly such⁠ a mundane motive.

But‌⁠ that did not‍ mean it was‌‍ the correct answer.⁠⁠

Dereck‍ only taught those⁠‍ who were worth‍ teaching.

Someone‌ who did not‌‍ seek knowledge but⁠ only power did‌⁠ not interest him‌ in the slightest.‍‍

Even‌⁠ so, it was‌‍ the only card⁠⁠ Trisha had.

“…”⁠

Trisha⁠‌ squeezed her eyes‌ shut.

The⁠‌ first person who⁠ came to mind‌‌ was Aiselin, whose⁠⁠ kindness as vast‍‍ as the sea⁠‌ had managed to‍‌ move her.

Before‍‍ her, Trisha had⁠ broken internally.

That‍ was a true‌⁠ noble lady—elegant, elevated,‍⁠ pure.

How‌‍ could Trisha Lenuel‍‍ even compare herself‌‍ to the brilliance⁠⁠‌ of a woman‍‌ like Aiselin of‌ the Duplain?

The⁠‍ answer was impossible⁠ to speak.

Even⁠⁠ Ellen of Count‌‌ Belmierd had fallen‌‌ into inferiority before‌ Aiselin.

Trisha‍ felt envy toward‍ Ellen.

Inferiority⁠ only arises among⁠‌ people of similar‍⁠ level.

But⁠⁠ before a flower‍ so high she‍‌ could not even‌ imagine touching it—there was no inferiority,⁠‌ only longing.

“To‌ be honest… I am an ambiguous‌⁠‌ person.”

In a heavy atmosphere,⁠ Trisha confessed.

“…”‌‍

“In magic, I’m better‌ than commoners, but‌⁠ not enough to‍ stand out in‌ studies, same. In⁠ status, I’m above‌ certain lesser nobles,‌ but not high enough to compete⁠ with the true⁠‍‌ elite. I am…‍⁠ well, simply like‌‍‌ that. Ohoho.”

The atmosphere turned strange;‌⁠ so Trisha only‌ laughed awkwardly.

“…”⁠

Dereck,⁠‍ however, did not‍‍ burst out laughing‌ or anything like‌‌‌ that upon seeing⁠ Trisha in that state.

Regardless,‍‍ he was a man with whom‌ one could not⁠‍‍ speak comfortably.

“That’s…‍ all.”

She‌⁠ murmured.

Trisha’s‍ mother was Countess‍‍ Rodelia, a heroine‍‍ who had killed⁠ more dark mages‍⁠ than anyone in‌‌ the southwest of⁠‌ the continent.

Her‌ father was Hutton,⁠‍ a first-class merchant⁠‌ who had fled⁠ his rural home‍ without a cent‍ and built a huge company on‍⁠ his own.

Trisha⁠ had lived her‌⁠ whole life between‌‍‌ those two extraordinary‌ beings, while she herself was just‍⁠ an ordinary person.‍

She‍⁠ had not been‌‍ born with the⁠‌ elegant natural dignity⁠⁠ of a noble daughter like Aiselin.‍‌

Nor‌ did she possess⁠ ruling aptitude like‌‍‍ Ellen.

She‌‍⁠ was not cunning⁠ or calculating like‍⁠ Denise.

Nor‍‌‍ did she have‌ a turbulent or⁠ dramatic past like‌‍ Diella, with reasons⁠⁠⁠ to have gone‌ astray.

She‍ had simply been‌⁠ born as a normal person within‌ a great lineage,‍ and stumbling her way through life, she had reached‍ this point.

In magic, studies, and⁠‌ authority, she had‌‍ always remained at‌‍‍ an “acceptable” level.‌

Had⁠ she ever experienced‍⁠ a deep tragedy or a pain⁠ that forced her‌⁠ to rise from‍‍⁠ the abyss?

Not at all.

Had‌ she ever governed‍ others from above, imposing her absolute‌‌⁠ power?

Of course not.

And⁠‌ not only Trisha—this‌ is how most⁠ people live.

She⁠ had never climbed the top of the mountain, nor‌⁠ swum in the⁠⁠ deepest underground.

She‌‍ lived her life‍‍ as it had⁠⁠ been given to‌⁠‍ her, without great‌ ups and downs.⁠ That could not‌ be considered laziness‍ or irresponsibility.

But‌‍‍ unfortunately, around her‍ were always extraordinary⁠ people who lived⁠⁠ colorful, brilliant lives.‌⁠ Each showcased their⁠ achievements to the world.

And‍ in a world⁠‍‍ full of exceptional‍⁠‌ beings, a simple‍ mortal could feel⁠ small.

That’s‍ why, sometimes, she‍ had to gather‌‌ what she had‍ and exaggerate it,‌ raise her voice,‌ and shout that⁠ she, too, had‌‌‌ value.

— Even if it‌‌ seems like everyone⁠⁠‍ is playing above‍ your head, never‌ let yourself be‌ intimidated, Trisha. —

The⁠ will Hutton left‌‌ before he died was deeply engraved‍‌‌ in her heart.⁠

She⁠‍ clung to those‌‌‍ words during her‌⁠‍ childhood, walked through‍‍ the fields raising‌‌ her voice, and‌‍‍ thus reached the‌‍⁠ high society of⁠ Ebelstein.

And⁠ now, before the‍‌ most renowned master of Ebelstein, Trisha‌‌ spoke, slightly shrinking.

“Could‍‌ someone like me…⁠ become your disciple?”

The question slipped out‌‌ before she could⁠ think, and Trisha‍‌⁠ flinched as she‌ realized it. She felt she had said something absurd‍‌ and searched for⁠ how to fix‍‌ it, when—

“Of‍‌ course you can.”‍‌

Before‌ Trisha could retract⁠ her words, Dereck⁠‍ had already responded.

It‌⁠ was so unexpected‌‌⁠ that she opened‌‌‍ her eyes wide.

“I‍ only teach those‌‍‌ who have the‌‍ worth to be⁠ taught. I had⁠‌ never considered learning‌‌ magic for mundane‌ reasons, but if‌⁠ you think about‌‌‍ it, it’s quite natural.”

Dereck⁠ studied magic to‍ obtain secular power.‌

Trisha‌‌ was the opposite—she‍ would study magic‌ to elevate her⁠ status within the⁠ aristocracy.

If‍ he analyzed it‌‍ that way, it‍ made sense.

“Then‌⁠ why wouldn’t it⁠ be possible? Of‌‌ course you can.‌ As long as‍ your determination is⁠ firm.”

Only‍ then did Trisha‌ feel she was‍ beginning to understand⁠⁠⁠ that man.

He‌⁠ taught magic, but‍‍ not to show⁠ off power.

Precisely⁠ because of his purity, the disciples⁠ who did wield‌‌ great influence bowed‍‌ before him.

Perhaps⁠‍ that was why⁠‍ Dereck was considered⁠‌ the best magic master of Ebelstein—because‍⁠ he only cared‌⁠ about teaching magic,⁠‍⁠ and nothing more.‌‌

Trisha let out a weak laugh and‌‍ lowered her head.⁠‌⁠

“I⁠‍ didn’t expect you to say it‌‍ so clearly.”

She‌ felt as if⁠ she had shown‍ the most sincere‍⁠ part of her‌ heart, and that⁠‌ embarrassed her. But‍‌ she couldn’t deny⁠⁠ she also felt‍ relief.

If‍‍⁠ even someone so‍ arrogant, vulgar, full‍‌‌ of complexes, and without any exceptional‌ talent compared to‌‌‍ the other disciples—if‌⁠ even she, an insignificant noble of‌‌‌ House Renuel, could‍ be accepted…

Perhaps‌ she could allow⁠⁠⁠ herself to let‍ her guard down‌ a little.

From‍‍ that comfort, Trisha‌⁠‌ spoke softly for⁠‌ the first time.‌‌

“Then…‌‌‍ would you accept‍ me as your disciple?”

“I‍⁠ refuse.”

“…”‌⁠

Not⁠ even a second‌ passed before she‍ was rejected.

***‌

Bang!

From⁠⁠ inside the hall,⁠ a bang was⁠ heard against the‍ table. Trisha, her‌‌‍ eyes watery, shouted‌‍ with a voice‍‍‌ full of injustice.‌

“Weren’t⁠ you going to‌‌ accept me based‌⁠ on the flow‌‌⁠ of the conversation?!”⁠

“No,‌ that is one⁠ thing and this is another. They’re different matters.”

The⁠‍‍ servants standing silently‍⁠ to the side⁠‌‍ turned pale.

Countess‌⁠ Rodelia had ordered them to treat‌ Baron Ravenclaw with‍⁠ the utmost etiquette.‌

But‍ seeing Trisha whining⁠ like that, there‍ was no trace‍‍ of dignity left.⁠

It⁠⁠‍ was a scene‍⁠ that made cold‌⁠ sweat run down⁠ their backs.

“After‍ saying so many‌‌‍ nice things, rejecting‍ me so bluntly!⁠‌ What am I supposed to be⁠ now? And I was smiling, thinking‌⁠ it would become⁠ a pretty memory!⁠‌ Ugh… my… my‍⁠ back is burning…!”⁠

“I‍ publicly announced that I would only⁠⁠ accept as a disciple someone who‌ was acknowledged by‍‌ Lady Diella. If‍‌ I change my⁠⁠‍ words now as if nothing happened,‍ what would become‍⁠ of Lady Diella?”‌‍

“I-it’s‌ just… how am‍ I supposed to⁠ get the recognition‍‍ of a savage⁠ like her?! You‌ know better than‌‌ anyone—that maniac doesn’t‍ intend to accept‍ any disciple ever.”⁠

“I⁠ understand. So I’ll⁠⁠ get straight to⁠‍‌ the point.”

Dereck put on a serious expression, laced⁠ his fingers together,‍ and leaned forward slightly.

Trisha swallowed nervously. She⁠ was about to‌‌ hear how to‌‌ win the recognition‌ of that beast⁠ called Diella.

“…It’s⁠‍ not my problem.”⁠‌⁠

“Aaagh!!”‌

Trisha‌‌‌ grabbed her head and collapsed onto‍ the back of‌ the chair.

“S-so… there’s no other⁠‌ way? Anything I can do to‌ become your disciple… or to catch⁠⁠‌ Lady Diella’s attention…‌ something…?!”

“Why‍ would I know?⁠‍⁠ Only Lady Diella knows that.”

“Aaaah!”‌‍

Trisha‌‍ let out a sound as if she were about⁠‌⁠ to faint, exhaling‍ furiously.

Dereck‍ only watched her‍ in silence.

There‍ was nothing more‌⁠ he could do.

***⁠

—‘He‍‌⁠ only knows how‍⁠ to say “it⁠‍ can’t be done,”‍ “it’s difficult”… And⁠⁠ I’m dying here!’‌‌
—‘What if you send her a gift? Lady Diella‍ likes sweet things.’‍

—‘G-gifts⁠⁠ won’t solve this…⁠⁠‍ ugh…’

—‘You‌ know it’s partly‍‌‌ your fault, right?’‌‌

—‘……’

“Madam‍‌ Countess… that…”

When‌ Countess Rodelia returned‌ after handling an⁠⁠‌ urgent matter, the‍‍ servant standing before‍‍ the door stammered‍ with a pale face.

Despite‌‍⁠ the order to‌ treat Baron Ravenclaw with utmost etiquette,⁠ the conversation he‍‌ heard from inside‍‍⁠ was anything but‌⁠‌ dignified.

The⁠ loyal servant tried‍⁠ to think of‍‌ how to handle‌⁠ the situation, but⁠ he couldn’t find‍‌ a solution.

“Pfft.”‍‌

But‍‍ Countess Rodelia, after⁠‌ listening for a moment at the⁠‍‍ door, let out‍‍ a small laugh.‍‍

She⁠ patted the servant’s‌⁠⁠ shoulder reassuringly and,‍‌ with no intention‌‍ of entering the⁠ hall, signaled her legal adviser to‍ follow her.

She‍‌ seemed intent on returning to her⁠‌‌ office without intervening‍‍ at all.

“Let’s‍⁠⁠ leave them a little longer. Let’s‍ also finish the‍ army budget before‍‍‌ going back.”