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Noble Lady Reformation Guide Chapter 174: Seat of Thorns (2)

Chapter 174: Seat of Thorns (2)

What‍​ Siern felt when‍‌‍ she began frequenting​‌‌ Ebelstein society was​‌‌ that humans were‌⁠‍ truly complex creatures.​⁠⁠

For​ Siern, who had⁠‍⁠ spent her life‍⁠ practically confined within‍‍ the tower of⁠‌ the Rochester manor,​⁠​ the world of⁠⁠ high noble society—where‌ even a single​​ step was laden‌‌ with etiquette and‌‍​ a single smile​‌‍ concealed intentions—felt like‌‍‍ an insurmountably high⁠⁠‍ wall.

If‍​ the young noblewomen⁠ of the Rose‍ Hall did not​⁠‌ dare treat her⁠‌ lightly, it was‍⁠ thanks to the‌‌ combination of dangerous‍ rumors surrounding her,‌⁠ her absurd magical​ ability, and the‌‍⁠ fact that she‌​ had been the‌‌‍ former youngest member‌ of the Ravenclaw‌‍ lineage, all of‌⁠ which protected her‍‍‌ like an invisible‌‍ shield.

From⁠ the very moment‌‍ that influential figures‌‌ of the hall‍​‍ such as Diella,⁠ Ellen, and Denise⁠ treated her with⁠ respect, it was⁠​ impossible not to​‍ feel that something‍​⁠ was out of‌ place.

And‍ the fact that‌ she had beaten⁠​‍ Trisha for hours‍ without even blinking⁠‍ was already circulating‌ as a legend.‍‌

In‍​ any case, although‍ all of those‌⁠‍ factors made her‌‍ someone whom no⁠ one dared address‍​​ casually in the‍‍⁠ Rose Hall, that‍​ did not mean⁠​ she received no‍​⁠ influence at all.​‍

‘She‍‌ looks like a wild animal whose‌⁠ fangs have already‌ fallen out.’

Seated​​ at one of‍⁠​ the salon gatherings,​‌​ filled with trivial‍ chatter among young‍ ladies, Siern thought‍​​ this coldly.

Noblewomen​‌​ seemed to constantly‌​ dream of fated‌ encounters, inevitable romances,⁠‍‍ and elegant princes‌‍ riding white horses.​⁠

For‍‍‍ a young woman‌ approaching the appropriate⁠ age, this was⁠‌ not particularly strange—but‍ for Siern, all⁠‌‍ of it felt‌​ completely alien.

And‌ that was only⁠ natural.

For‍ Siern, the world‌ had always been​ like a merciless‌⁠ tundra.

Sitting‌ around waiting for​⁠ someone to come⁠ take her hand‌⁠ was the same​ as standing still⁠ in the wasteland‌⁠ until freezing to‌​ death.

Survival‌ meant tearing flesh​ from corpses, dodging‌ predators’ claws, and‌⁠‌ wandering endlessly in⁠‌​ search of shelter.‌⁠​

That​‍ was the life​⁠ of the beasts⁠⁠​ of the northern‌ snow plains.

That​⁠⁠ was why watching​‍‌ young noblewomen dressed‍‌ in frilled gowns,‍‌ chatting cheerfully about⁠⁠ pretty tableware, reminded‌‌⁠ her of observing⁠‍​ wild animals that‌ could no longer‍ bite.

Wasn’t‍‍ noble society supposed​‌⁠ to be a place to refine‌⁠ oneself, devote oneself​⁠ to study, train‌‍ magic, and become‍‍​ someone better?

And‍‍‍ yet there they‌‍⁠ were, recommending trivial‍ romance novels like​⁠ The Scoundrel of⁠​ the Kelberon Family‌ or The Arrogant‍‌⁠ Lord Robein, asking​⁠‌ for her opinion‌ as if it‍⁠‍ were something profound.⁠​‌

Watching‌‍ them, Siern felt‍‌ they were taking‍ the world too⁠‌‌ lightly.

‘The‍‌ magic and history​‍ learned in the‍​​ Ravenclaw family are‍‍ actually useful, but​​ associating with the​​ young women of​‍‍ the Rose Hall⁠ doesn’t seem very‍ beneficial.’

With​​⁠ that indifferent thought,‍‍ she returned to​⁠​ the mansion in‍​ the noble district⁠ and collapsed onto​‌‍ the bed, staring​‍​ into space.

Even​ so, she had​ come to Ebelstein⁠‌‌ precisely to learn‍​‍ more about noble⁠‍ culture and mingle⁠ with it.

Dismissing‍‍ everything as a waste of time​ without even trying‍⁠ would be disrespectful⁠‍ to her father,‍‌‌ who had sent‍⁠​ her there.

Although​ deep down she​⁠​ would have preferred⁠‍ to stay at‍⁠‌ the Ravenclaw manor‍ training three-star magic,‍‌ Siern forced herself⁠‍ to erase her‌‌ apathetic expression and⁠‌ picked up one⁠ of those romances‍‌ that the ever-kind​‍ young ladies of⁠‍ the hall had‌​ lent her.

Whoosh.‍‌‍

‘There’s​‍‌ barely any substance,‌​‍ and the characters⁠‍​ seem to have⁠⁠‌ flowers growing in‌‍‍ their heads.’

‘With⁠ how cruel the⁠‌ world is, and​ they only think‌​‍ about romance even​‌ in the middle‌⁠ of a crisis.‌⁠ This so-called Lord‍⁠‍ Robein has a terrible personality.’

Siern’s⁠ assessment was merciless.⁠‍‍

To⁠ her, the women‌​ in those novels‌‍ completely lacked common‌ sense, and the​⁠‌ men seemed to​⁠ have brains filled‍‍ with nothing but⁠‍‍ romantic emotions.

Living‍⁠​ in such a simplistic way, they​‍ would never survive⁠​ a winter that‍ cruel.

Repeating‌⁠‌ that to herself⁠⁠‌ over and over,⁠ she continued turning​‌⁠ the pages.

Flip,‌⁠​ flip.

One‍ page after another.‍

The‌‌​ pace gradually quickened.‍‌⁠

Contrary​⁠ to expectations, the‍‍‌ story was easy⁠​‌ to read, and⁠‌ it became difficult​​‌ to tear her​⁠ eyes away.

Two​​​ people facing the‌​ ruin of their​‌⁠ family.

A male protagonist reaffirming‍ his convictions amid‍⁠ war.

A female protagonist sacrificing‍‍‍ herself for refugees.‌

The‍⁠ moment when the‌ two confirmed their‍‍ feelings.

Siern’s‌​​ eyes moved rapidly.​

At⁠​ times melancholic, at‌ times slightly daring—before‍‍ she realized it,​‍‌ the pages were⁠‍ turning one after⁠ another.

Flip.​

‘…Hmm…’⁠

And,‌⁠​ unfortunately, Siern was‌‌‌ a girl as‍⁠‍ pure as freshly‌ fallen snow.

***‌​

Melverot​‍ was an extremely​ cautious person, but‌ there was one​ thing he had​​‌ not taken into⁠ account.

Dereck​ was the most‌‌‍ renowned instructor in‌​⁠ Ebelstein, practically an‌ absolute authority in​⁠ the education of‌⁠ ladies.

The⁠‍ nobility of Ebelstein⁠​‌ was famous throughout‌‌ the continent for​‌​ its splendor and​​​ long history, and‌⁠⁠ the young women‌‌ of the Rose⁠ Hall occupied the⁠ very forefront of​ that social world.‍

Melverot⁠‍​ was convinced that⁠​ if Siern received⁠ a lady’s education​‍ as a member⁠ of the hall⁠ under Dereck’s guidance,‍ she would become‍​​ a daughter anyone⁠‌‌ could be proud‍ of.

But⁠‍‌ what kind of‌ place was the‌‌​ Rose Hall, really?​‍

It‌ was the breeding⁠⁠‍ ground of a luxuriant noble culture,⁠⁠‌ a social world‍‌⁠ where the dreams​ and romantic ideals​​‌ of countless young‍⁠ ladies blossomed.

Walking​‌ through such a place, it was‌‌ inevitable to interact​‌​ with girls full​ of illusions and⁠⁠‌ to be influenced‍ by the sensibilities⁠ and interests characteristic​‍ of that age.⁠‌

Was‍​ that a bad‍‌‍ thing?

Not​ at all.

In‍​ fact, it was‍ exactly what Melverot‌ wanted.

However,‌‌ not everything one‍⁠ desires manifests in⁠ the way one⁠​ expects.

“Melverot,⁠⁠ what is happening‌​ at this hour?‌‌‌ You said there​⁠​ was a serious​‌‍ emergency related to⁠‌ Siern.”

When‍⁠‌ Kalimford entered the⁠⁠⁠ office, several advisors​ were already gathered.‍‌​

From‌​ the legal magistrate‍‍​ onward, all of‌ them were key‍‍‌ figures in the‍‌‍ administration of the‍‌ territory.

The‌ fact that people⁠‌ of that level​‍⁠ had been convened⁠‍⁠ already indicated that‍‌ this was not⁠‍‌ something trivial.

Kalimford‍ looked at Melverot⁠‍⁠ with a pale‌‌ face.

“T-this⁠‍ is…”

“It⁠‍‌ seems that Siern‍‍⁠ has begun to⁠‌ awaken an interest​‍ in relationships between‌ men and women.”‌‌

At‍​‍ those words, the‌ advisors showed ambiguous⁠‌ expressions. Kalimford, on⁠ the other hand,‍⁠ froze.

“What…​ did you say…?”‍

“There⁠​ isn’t much to‌​ explain. Siern has‌‌​ developed feelings for​ someone.”

“Surely⁠⁠​ I didn’t hear⁠‌ that wrong?”

The​ great mage, who‍⁠ had remained calm⁠‍ even in front‍‌ of a six-star‌ black mage, opened⁠‍‌ his eyes wide​​ and his fingers⁠‍​ began to tremble.‌

“What​ damned bastard…? No,‍ wait… what kind…‍‌‌ what kind of‍⁠ fellow…?”

Kalimford‌⁠ slammed the table‌ hard, his expression‍​‍ filled with fury.⁠

“Of‍ course Siern has‌ grown and needs⁠ to understand her⁠‍ own feelings, but‍‍ even so… it’s​⁠ still far too‍ early.”

“I​​ share that opinion,‍‌ Kalimford.”

All⁠​ fathers in the‍‌ world had the‍‌ habit of saying‌‌⁠ that their daughter’s‍ romance was always‌ “too early.”

Even‌ great mages who⁠​‍ ruled the world⁠‍​ were unable to⁠​⁠ escape that rule.⁠‍​

“We‍​⁠ can’t hand Siern‌⁠ over to just‌​ anyone who came‌‍⁠ from who knows‍ where. First, we‍​ need to know‍ who that man‌‍⁠ is.”

“It’s⁠⁠⁠ Baron Ravenclaw.”

“…”​⁠‍

Silence‍ spread between them.⁠‌

Both⁠‍⁠ Melverot and Kalimford,⁠ deep down, considered‌‍ Baron Ravenclaw to​ be a fairly‌ respectable person.

But‍ one thing was‍​​ acknowledging that, and‌ another entirely was‌​ nodding their heads​‌‍ and handing over​‌‍ their daughter just‌⁠ like that.

They‌⁠⁠ would sooner tear‌ off a limb‌‌‌ than allow someone⁠‍ to take Siern‍‌‍ away, their sole‍ treasure, whom even⁠ biting would not‌⁠ cause pain.

Even⁠‍⁠ so, they couldn’t​‍ explode into irrational‌ rage either.

Moreover,‌ Siern’s feelings were​ one-sided; from the‌ baron’s point of‌ view, he had⁠ done nothing reproachable.​​

And‌⁠‍ yet, they still‌ couldn’t feel at‍ ease.

Melverot⁠‍ and Kalimford felt⁠​‍ as though an⁠⁠‌ immense trial had‌ descended upon them.​⁠​

“E-eh…‌‍ Your Grace… why‌ do you think⁠ that…?”

“Father’s⁠‍‌ instinct.”

At‌ the question from​‌‍ Magistrate Elden, Melverot‍ answered with a look of absolute‌‍ seriousness, leaving him‌ speechless.

“Melverot…​​⁠ what… what was​⁠‍ it that you‌‍ saw…?”

“Every​ time Siern talks‍‌ about Baron Ravenclaw,‌‌ she blushes noticeably.⁠ I thought it⁠ was residual heat,⁠⁠‌ but that doesn’t​‍ seem to be⁠‌​ the case.”

There‌⁠‌ was no clear‌‌‌ evidence.

Just⁠ a feeling.

In​​ a situation like‍​ this, the normal​ reaction would be⁠ to laugh in⁠ disbelief, but Kalimford‍​ pressed his lips​ together gravely.

“Damn⁠​ it… at that‌‌‍ point, it’s practically‍‌ certain.”

“Yes.​ I’m convinced as‍ well.”

In⁠⁠ the entire territory⁠⁠ of Rochester, there​ was no one⁠​‌ capable of stopping​ those two.

Parental​⁠‍ love was a noble emotion, but‍‍ when it went⁠⁠‍ astray, it turned​ into obsession.

However,​⁠ neither of them‍ was aware of‍‍⁠ that.

The‌‌‍ only ones who‍‍ remained tense were‍ the advisors summoned‍⁠ to that emergency​ meeting at such⁠‌ a late hour.​​‍

And​ in a household‍ of that caliber,‍‍ an advisor had‍ to be able‌ to express his‍⁠ opinion with conviction.​⁠

Treasurer‌⁠‍ Theron smoothed his⁠‍ mustache and spoke⁠⁠ in a firm⁠‍⁠ voice.

“Your‍⁠​ Grace’s concerns are⁠‍ perfectly reasonable. However,⁠⁠​ reaching such a hasty conclusion about‌‌​ what feelings Lady‌‍ Siern harbors may​ be premature.”

“What​ do you mean,​‌ Treasurer?”

“It​⁠⁠ could simply be⁠ a temporary physical‍‍ discomfort or a fleeting emotion characteristic‍ of her age…”‍⁠​

“And⁠‌⁠ what if it⁠ isn’t?”

“…”‌‌

With‌​⁠ Melverot and Kalimford,‍‌ there were no‌ words that would⁠⁠⁠ work.

The​‍ treasurer closed his​​ mouth.

Melverot‌ was a rational​​‍ and balanced ruler‍ in all matters‌‌ except when it⁠⁠‌ came to Siern.‍‌‌

Even‍ though he vehemently‌ denied it, all‍ the advisors knew​ it.

For⁠ now, the only​‍ thing they could‌‌ do was observe​‌ and wait.

***‍​⁠

‘It‍‌ seems I’ve reached‍⁠ a point where⁠​⁠ I can no‌‍‌ longer become stronger​‌‌ just by exchanging​ magic.’

Dereck​‍ clenched and loosened‌​​ his fist several‌ times as he‍‍ remained seated, leaning⁠​ against the outer​ wall of the​ mansion.

Unless‍ someone, like Siern,‍‍ had been born‌ with an innate​‌​ sense for transformation‍ magic, enduring that‍‍ relentless cold required​‌‌ wearing several thick⁠ layers of clothing⁠ on top of‍⁠‍ one another.

Movement⁠‌​ became awkward, so‌​‌ ideally one would⁠ train magic in​‌ the dueling field,⁠⁠ but if he⁠‍ was unable to​‌ handle mana freely‌​ in any environment,⁠ then there was⁠​​ no point at‌ all.

Exhausted,‌ Dereck breathed heavily‌‍ as he organized‌‌ his thoughts.

A white breath, heavy‌​‌ with cold, spilled​⁠‌ from his mouth,‍⁠‍ rose into the⁠ air, and vanished.‍‌⁠

The‍‌ north was still‌ frigid, but in‌‍⁠ the southwest of⁠ the continent the⁠ warm season must​​‌ already be approaching.⁠‍​

By‍‌‌ the time new‍​ leaves sprouted on​‌‌ the bare branches,‌ the Ravenclaw Academy​⁠ would be completed.​‍

At​‍⁠ the very least,‌​ by then he‍⁠⁠ should be in​​ Duplain territory.

‘Having‍ a good teacher⁠‍⁠ is a blessing,​‍ but even so,​​⁠ it isn’t enough.’​⁠

— You only truly⁠‍‍ shine when you’re‍ on the brink‌ of death.

Fina’s‌‍‍ words, spoken in⁠‍‍ a carefree tone‍​‍ as she sat⁠‍ on the sofa‍‌‌ in the reception‍‌ hall eating snacks,‍​ returned to his⁠⁠‍ mind.

Since‍ arriving in the​ north, he had⁠⁠ exterminated several groups⁠⁠‍ of Merfolks and⁠‍ carried out numerous⁠ training sessions, but‌​ only once had⁠ he truly felt​⁠⁠ a threat to​ his life.

When⁠ he saw Kalimford’s‌​‍ magic.

The​ meteorite that tore‌ through the sky‍‌​ as it fell‌​ made anyone instinctively‌‍ understand what certain‍​ death was.

In‌⁠ that instant, Dereck⁠‌‍ felt something enormous​⁠ and indescribable react‌‍‍ within his mind.⁠

Delving⁠ only into already‍​ established magical theories‌⁠ was not enough‌ to stimulate his​‌⁠ growth as a practitioner of the⁠ wild style.

‘Repeating‌​ only this kind​⁠ of lesson is⁠ already a waste‍ of time.’

It​‍ was at that​ moment that Dereck‍⁠ reached a clear⁠ conclusion.

“Dereck.‌ What are you‌⁠ doing here?”

As⁠​ he felt the​ northern cold seep​⁠ into his bones,‌​ a familiar voice‌‍ appeared before him.​

Seeing‍ the girl looking‌‌ down at him​⁠‍ felt strangely novel.⁠​

Her​ stature was so​ small that normally​​ he was the‍⁠‌ one looking down‌ at her.

“Siern,​​​ miss.”

“Huh,⁠‌‍ are you hurt?”⁠

“No.⁠⁠ I was training​‍ magic and ran​‍ a bit short‌​ on stamina, so‍ I’m resting.”

“It’s⁠⁠ warm inside. Why‌ are you resting​​‌ out here?”

“I⁠⁠‌ was thinking of⁠​ taking a short⁠‌‍ break and then‍⁠ adjusting my mana‍‌‌ again.”

Siern,​‍‍ her white hair​ falling softly, observed​​ him in silence.​

Although‍​ she usually walked​ barefoot, this time⁠‌ she was wearing​⁠ simple, clean shoes.⁠⁠‌

The​‍​ frilled dress she​ usually wore with‌​‍ her sleeves rolled⁠​ up was now‍‌ covered by a winter coat adorned​ with abundant fur.‌⁠

Seeing‍ her so reserved,⁠ Dereck tilted his‍ head in curiosity.​⁠

Without⁠‌ saying a word,⁠ Siern dropped down​​ beside him.

“My‍ father is very​⁠ worried, so he⁠​‌ told me to⁠ dress warmly.”

Seeing‍​⁠ her like that,‌⁠ she finally looked​ like a young​‌⁠ noble appropriate for‌‍‍ her age.

Dereck‍‍ thought it suited​​ her and steadied‌ his breathing.

“So‍⁠ even you get​ tired if you‍‍ use mana for​⁠​ so long, Dereck.​‍ It’s the first​ time I’ve seen⁠⁠ you panting like‍ that.”

“That’s‌​ only natural. I still have a long way to​​ go.”

“I‍‍​ see…”

Siern​ fell silent for‌​‍ a moment before‍ continuing.

“Dereck,‌ there’s something… I’ve⁠ been thinking about.‍ I don’t have⁠‌ anyone to ask⁠​ for advice, so…”⁠

She‌‍​ was the kind​ of girl who,‍‌ just by catching​​​ a cold once,‍ made Melverot and‍⁠ Kalimford stay awake​​ all night.

That​ she was now‍ coming to talk‍⁠‌ to him about⁠‍ her worries made‍⁠‌ the weight of‍⁠‍ the situation feel‍⁠ enormous.

Dereck‌ swallowed.

“A‌ worry?”

“Yes.‌​‍ My father worries⁠​‍ too much about‍ everything, so I wanted to talk​⁠​ about it with‌ you.”

“That​​‌ is… I don’t​⁠ know if someone‍‌ without a direct‌​⁠ connection like me​‍ can help.”

“Actually…‌ it’s not that‌⁠‌ you don’t have⁠​ a connection.”

At​‌⁠ that reply, Dereck‍‌‌ tilted his head.‍‍​

Siern⁠ sat even closer‍‌ to the wall​‌‌ and, pressing her‍⁠​ cheeks with both​ hands, spoke awkwardly.‍‍⁠

“You⁠⁠ see… lately I’ve‌ been a little⁠ strange.”

“…?”⁠‌‍

“When⁠ I look at⁠ you, when I think about you,⁠ or when I’m‍⁠ this close to​‌⁠ you… I feel‍ heat rising to​‍‌ my cheeks.”

“…”​⁠‍

Dereck​‍‍ exhaled slowly, sitting‌‍‌ in silence, wondering​‌ for a moment​​​ if he had⁠‌​ heard correctly.

“At‌‌ first I thought‌​ it was another‌​‍ cold, but it‌‌‌ doesn’t seem to‍⁠ be that. Then⁠ I thought maybe​⁠ it was my​‍⁠ imagination, but that’s‌‌ not it either…”‍

“I-is⁠​​ that so…?”

“Do‌​​ you know why⁠‌‌ this happens, Dereck?‍​‍ If it’s a mana problem again,⁠‍ I’m worried about‌​ causing trouble…”

Behind​ that girl stood‍‌‍ no less than‍‍‌ two six-star mages‌‍‌ capable of paralyzing‌‌ any criminal with‌‍ fear just by‌​ meeting their gaze.​

“…”‌

Dereck​‍⁠ had always lived​‌ on the edge​ between life and‍​​ death.

But‌ it had been‍‌‍ a very long‍ time since he‌ had felt a sense of danger‍⁠ as direct and⁠⁠ as uncomfortable as⁠⁠ this one.

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