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Noble Lady Reformation Guide Chapter 51: Value (5)

Chapter 51: Value (5)

“Of​ course, Miss Denise’s​⁠ words may be⁠ useful. However, I can also give‍⁠ enough reasons why‍‍ I don’t need⁠​‍ to leave the​‌⁠ Beltus family. After‍ all, reasons are‌⁠ something you can​‍ make up when‌‌​ needed.”

The​⁠‌ Beltus family, although‍​​ its reputation rivals​⁠​ that of the​‍‍ Duplain family, which​ dominates the southwestern‍ continent, cannot wield⁠​ as much influence‍‍⁠ as Miss Aiselin‌​ and Miss Diella.​

When‌‌ it comes to‍‍‌ producing heirs, it’s⁠ hard to find​​ a place capable‌ of raising successors⁠ as excellent as​ the Duplain family,‌‍​ even across the‍‍ entire continent.

Nevertheless,‍⁠ Dereck continued as⁠ if none of⁠⁠ that mattered.

“There​⁠⁠ are three reasons​ why I didn’t​⁠​ leave the Beltus‌‍‍ family.”

“…What⁠‍​ are they?”

“First,⁠​​ Miss Denise is‌ a much more⁠‍ valuable person than‌​​ she believes.”

“Thank‍​ you.”

“I’m‌ not saying this⁠ to flatter you.”‍

Denise,​ thinking it was‍‌‌ just an empty​ compliment, thanked him‍ without emotion, but⁠‍ Dereck denied it⁠‍ seriously.

She⁠‌⁠ knew that white-haired​‍ mercenary didn’t say​‌ things he didn’t⁠ mean. Still, it‌‍⁠ wasn’t easy for‍ Denise to accept⁠ Dereck’s words at‌ face value.

“Miss​ Denise has produced⁠ results and maintained​ her position even‌ in the cold‍​​ environment of the​ Beltus family. That’s‌⁠ hard to compare​ with the warm‌ family ties of‍ the Duplain family.”​⁠⁠

“What‍⁠ are you trying‌ to say?”

“Steel‍ is forged in‍ intense heat, but​ humans become truly‍ strong in cold‌‌‌ climates.”

Dereck‍‍ was someone who​‍ had grown up‍ from cold foundations.​‍‍

His⁠‍ values differed from⁠⁠ Aiselin and Diella,‌‍‌ who had grown‌‍ up embraced by​ the fullness of​‌‍ the Duplain family​ and had received⁠⁠⁠ much love.

“A‌‍‌ flower that blooms‌‍ in a greenhouse‌ may look beautiful,‌ but it has​ unavoidable limitations. I believe true value⁠⁠​ lies in the‍​‍ weeds that can‌ survive in hostile⁠‍ environments.”

“…Are‌‌ you saying I’m‍ like a weed?”​​⁠

“It’s⁠‌​ a bit of​​​ an odd expression,‍‌ but… yes, that’s​ right. Miss Denise‌​‌ has qualities like‌ a weed.”

“…Wow.‍ That’s too blunt‌ to count as⁠‌‌ a compliment…”

“I‍‍‌ don’t say empty‌‍ words.”

“I​​‌ know.”

Perhaps‍​ what this mercenary⁠⁠‌ said was completely‍ sincere. Denise felt​‌ an inexplicable sense‍‌ of confidence growing⁠ inside her.

This⁠‍ mercenary highly valued⁠⁠‌ Denise’s traits. No​‍⁠ matter how much‌ she pressed, he‌⁠ never stopped this​​ training.

A famous teacher only‍⁠⁠ teaches students they‌‍ believe are worth⁠⁠‌ it. Dereck seemed​​ to have found​ value in Denise‍⁠‌ even she didn’t​ know she had.‍‍

“The‍ second reason is‍​ that, no matter‍⁠‌ what happens, I need to maintain​‌ my relationship with​⁠‍ the Beltus family⁠⁠⁠ a bit longer.”​

“You’re‌ already close enough⁠‍⁠ to the Duplain​ and Belmierd families.​ There’s no reason‌‍‍ to stay connected​‍​ to the Beltus​ family too…”

Denise‌ suddenly fell silent.‍⁠

She‌⁠⁠ stared into Dereck’s‌​ eyes, then swallowed‌‍ hard.

“Are⁠‍ you trying to​‌‌ become a noble?”​​​

“If​⁠‍ necessary, it would‌‌‌ be good to⁠‍‍ obtain a minor‍​ title through contributions,‍ but I have⁠‍ no ambition for​⁠‍ social advancement. My‍ only goal is​⁠⁠ to maintain ties‍‍‍ with many prestigious‍ families so there‌ are no major⁠⁠ obstacles to my‌ magical achievements.”

Ordinary‍‌ people often dislike⁠ nobles obsessed with‌​⁠ their privileges, but‌ Dereck held no​​ particular feelings—positive or​ negative—toward them.

He⁠ simply knew it​​ was meaningless to‍‍‌ oppose nobles when‍ it came to⁠ learning magic.

If‍ he wanted to​⁠ become a high-level⁠ mage in the‌⁠ future, he would‌⁠​ eventually need the​⁠ support of as‍​ many prestigious families‌‌ as possible. Given​‌​ Drest’s life, that​‌ wasn’t something to​⁠ take lightly.

“…That’s‌ just like you.​ In the end,⁠‌‌ all you want⁠⁠ is to learn​⁠​ advanced magic, right?”‍‌

“Yes.​​ If I can‌​ maintain smooth relationships‍‍ with the three‌‍ great families, no‍ one will be‍⁠⁠ able to interfere​‌‌ with my magical​‍ progress. Though, this‌⁠‌ only applies to‍​ the southwestern part⁠⁠ of the continent.”‍⁠

“Do‌ you really think‍ you’ll reach 3-star‍⁠‌ mage level…?”

“I’m‍⁠ already at 3-star​ level.”

“What??”​⁠‌

Dereck‍⁠ made that shocking‍‍⁠ statement with complete‍​ indifference.

He‌ didn’t show any‌‍‍ emotional shift, but‍‌ Denise couldn’t stop​⁠ her pupils from‍⁠‌ trembling for a moment.

She​ had thought he‍‌​ was only skilled⁠⁠ in 2-star magic.​ Even within the​ 2-star level, there‍‍​ was a big‌‌‍ gap between someone​ who had just‍⁠‍ reached it and‍ someone who had‍⁠ fully developed.

And‍ the 3-star level​⁠ was far beyond⁠‌​ that gap.

Even‌‌‍ among the nobility,​⁠‍ only one or⁠ two per generation⁠ reach 3-star level‍​​ by their coming-of-age​⁠ ceremony. But this​ was the first⁠​ time she had‌​⁠ seen a commoner‌‍ reach this level​ at such a young age.

She⁠‌ began to understand‍ why Dereck was‌⁠​ so intent on⁠‌​ maintaining smooth ties‌‍‍ with the three‍‍‌ great noble families.‌

Denise‍ swallowed again and​​ recalled the magical⁠ abilities Dereck had​​‌ demonstrated so far.​

It‌‍‍ wasn’t strange at‌‍⁠ all to consider​⁠‍ him a 3-star‍​‌ mage.

“Dereck,⁠‌ you’re truly obsessed‌‌​ with magic.”

“I‌ still have a long way to‍‍​ go.”

“Yeah,⁠‍ that makes sense.‌ You definitely have‍⁠ reasons for staying‍ with the Beltus​ family.”

Denise‌ nodded as she⁠⁠ sat on an​ old display cabinet.​⁠‍ At some point,‍‍​ she even let⁠‌ out a hollow⁠⁠‌ laugh. After all,⁠ this mercenary never​ strayed from the‍ truth in his‍ words.

No⁠⁠‌ matter how much‌​‌ Denise tried to‌​ manipulate him, he​⁠‌ always shattered her​ clever plans with⁠​ his direct words.​⁠⁠

He​ was with the‍⁠⁠ Beltus family for‌ his own safety‍ and progress. And‌⁠‍ he said so⁠‌‌ with complete confidence.⁠​

There⁠‍⁠ were no soft‌​ considerations in Dereck’s​ words.

They‌ weren’t even meant⁠‍‍ to comfort Denise,‌⁠‌ whose wings had‍‌ been clipped. They⁠‍ simply stated the‌⁠‌ facts.

‘….’‍

However,⁠‌ sometimes, after going‌​ in circles, that​​‌ became a form​ of consideration and‍⁠ comfort. Dereck surely‍‍​ understood that well‍‍ too.

Someone⁠ like Denise wouldn’t‍ be moved by‍ comforting words or​​ flowery rhetoric.

You’re‌‌ not worthless. You’re⁠⁠ a beautiful and​⁠ valuable being.

She⁠​‍ wasn’t the type‌‍‍ to be swayed‍ by empty reassurances‌ like that.

Instead,⁠​‌ she found strange‍​ comfort in someone⁠ like Dereck, who‌ would say with‍ a blank expression:‍‌ “Aren’t you?”

She‌​ felt a peculiar‌⁠ reassurance when Dereck‍⁠ affirmed Denise’s worth⁠​ with solid reasoning—reasoning​ that was hard‌‍ to refute.

‘I’ve‌​ really become a stingy woman, feeling⁠ relieved by words​‌ like that.’

Denise​ thought to herself‍ as she smiled⁠​⁠ and scolded herself​‍⁠ inwardly. This boy‌‌ named Dereck judged⁠‍‌ people as individuals,‌‍‍ beyond status or⁠ family.

To⁠​​ Denise, who had​‍ been oppressed all⁠⁠​ her life by‌‌⁠ the prestige of⁠​ the Beltus family,​ he was a strange kind of‍⁠​ person.

Come⁠‌ to think of‍‌ it, during his​‌ lessons, not once‍⁠‌ had he imposed​⁠ the typical noble‌‍‍ mindset, like shining‌​ for the Beltus‍‌​ family or striving‌ for greater honor⁠‌‌ and power.

He​⁠​ truly wanted to⁠​‍ teach magic to​​⁠ Denise. There wasn’t‌‌ even a hint‌​​ of Beltus family‍‍​ glory mixed into⁠⁠ that intent.

Thinking⁠​⁠ this far, Denise​‍ began to see‍​ this magic teacher⁠ Dereck in a different light.

A teacher teaches people.‌⁠​ And a mentor‌ guides people.

It⁠ made sense why​‍ Aiselin praised him‍ as both a good teacher and⁠⁠‌ a mentor.

‘What‌​ a strange person.’‍⁠​

In‌‌ noble society, where​​‍ everything revolved around⁠ authority and discipline,​‌ Dereck might have‌⁠‌ been the only⁠‍⁠ one who taught‌​​ people purely, unbound⁠​‍ by that sense⁠‍​ of status.

In‌ terms of rarity,‌‌‍ for Denise—who had‌​​ lived her life​​ oppressed by familial‌ prestige—he was as‌ valuable as gold.⁠​​

Now,‌ she was beginning‌‍ to understand why​‌ so many noblewomen‌‌ tried to bring‌‍ this magic teacher‌‌​ into their families.‌⁠⁠

Dereck.‍‌

Looking‌ calmly at him,‍⁠‍ Denise gently closed‍ her eyes, then​⁠ opened them and‍ smiled as she​‌ spoke.

“So,‍ what’s the third‍ reason?”

Suddenly,‍ she felt curious.​

Dereck​⁠ had said there‌‌ were three reasons‍ he stayed with‌‌ the Beltus family⁠​ instead of moving‍ to the Duplain​‍‌ family. She had⁠‌ only heard two‍‍ so far.

What‍‌ importance could there‍​​ be in receiving​ affirmation from this⁠ boy—who wasn’t the‍‍ son of any‌ famous noble, just‌​ a mercenary from‌‍ the slums…? It‍ was something she​ could easily brush​ aside as irrelevant.‌‍

Yet‌⁠ Denise suddenly found‍‍ herself deeply curious⁠ about the final‌ reason.

She‍​​ more or less‌‍ understood the first​⁠ two reasons, but‌ was embarrassed by​⁠​ how eagerly she​ sought the last‌​​ one—like a little​‌ girl begging for​ praise. She laughed⁠​​ at herself inwardly,⁠⁠​ feeling like a puppy wagging its⁠‌​ tail while pretending⁠​ to act aloof.​​⁠

“Oh,⁠​ the third one?”⁠‌

Dereck⁠​ said it so​ casually, like it‌‍⁠ was nothing.

“I‍⁠⁠ just want to⁠​⁠ know how the⁠ story ends.”

“Huh?‌⁠ What do you​​ mean?”

For​‌​ a moment, she​‌​ had to ask‍ what he was⁠⁠⁠ talking about.

“If‍ I go to‍​ another family, I won’t get to​‌ see the rest.‍​ It’s hard to⁠ bear being cut⁠​‍ off at such​‌ an important point.”‍‍

“…You‌‍ don’t mean…?”

“Yes.‍​ I’m talking about​‍⁠ The Arrogant Lord⁠ Robain.”

“What‌⁠‌ nonsense is that!!!”‍‍

Denise‍ sprang to her‍‍ feet and nearly‍‍ shouted.

Realizing‍‍ she had just⁠‍ lost her composure,‍ she blushed and⁠⁠‍ quickly sat back‍ down.

She⁠⁠​ looked like she‌⁠⁠ was struggling to​ breathe.

“You’ve⁠ been waiting for​ the next part⁠‍ of the story?”‍⁠⁠

“Yes.⁠​ Don’t you write​‌‍ it every night?”​‌

“How⁠‌​ could I possibly⁠‌‌ pick up a pen again after‍‌‍ making such a scene?!”

“Embarrassment?‌ I don’t think‌​‍ that’s necessary…”

This‌‍ man was being⁠‌ sincere.

Denise​⁠‌ stared at Dereck‌‌⁠ with a confused⁠⁠​ expression. He had‍ no intention of‍‌⁠ mocking her past‌ or causing trouble.⁠

That​ made it even⁠‍⁠ scarier. At times‌‍​ like this, purity​ was the deadliest​​ poison.

“That—that​​​ was just something⁠⁠ to throw away!​​ I only wrote‌‌​ it as a temporary hobby… You‍ don’t seriously think⁠ I was earnestly‌‍⁠ writing such a childish and silly​​​ story, do you?”​⁠​

“…Really?⁠​ I thought the‌​⁠ detailed descriptions and‌⁠ character development were⁠ very impressive. A lot of effort​‌ clearly went into⁠​​ it…”

“Ugh…”​

“Like‌⁠ I said, it’s‍ too harsh to‌​ dismiss it entirely‍ just because you’re‍‍​ embarrassed. Didn’t you‌​‍ stay up all‍ night writing it,‍​ Miss Denise?”

Even‍ as her face​ turned beet red,​‍​ Denise managed to​ reply.

“You’re‍ treating me like⁠ an idiot.”

“Me?”​⁠

“Don’t‍‍‍ pretend otherwise.”

“I’m‌‍ really not.”

Dereck‌⁠⁠ remained serious.

He⁠⁠‌ brushed the dust⁠ from the hem‌​ of his pants‍⁠ and spoke in‍​⁠ the same steady‌‍​ tone.

“Miss⁠​​ Denise, you said‌⁠ you were an⁠‍ empty shell, a pawn manipulated by‌ the Beltus family,‌⁠​ but looking at⁠‌‌ the facts, that’s‌⁠​ not entirely true,⁠‌​ is it?”

“What?”‌​‌

“Even⁠‍ though no one‌‍ asked you to,‍ you wrote those‍⁠ stories, read and⁠‍‍ studied the works⁠‌‍ of other great‌​‍ authors. Why do‌⁠ you think the‌ servants pretended not​⁠ to see you‌​ working late into⁠‍⁠ the night with⁠⁠ your quill?”

Denise’s⁠​ pupils widened slightly.⁠‌ She began to‍‌​ understand why Dereck‍⁠​ had been so‌⁠‍ serious in teaching‍‌‌ her.

Even​ in her nightly​​ exhaustion, he remembered‍​ the image of‌ a girl sitting​⁠ at her desk⁠ by moonlight.

She‌​ lived pushed around⁠ by her family’s⁠ overwhelming pressure, like⁠‌‌ a giant wave.‌ Yet at night,​ she sat near‌​‌ the window, gazing​​ at the stars,‌​ imagining the love​‍ of fictional characters.‌

She‌ wrote about people⁠ who retained their⁠ worth, even in​ the face of​⁠⁠ harsh reality.

The⁠​‌ characters in her‌⁠​ writing—who lived and‌ breathed—never gave in⁠‌‍ to countless waves.‍‍‍

Even​ Lord Robain, caught‌‍‌ in a family‍ crisis, and Tracy,⁠‍‍ facing the limits​⁠ of her status,​ fought their hardest‌‍ to find happiness.‍​

She‍‌ depicted scenes where‌ sunlight always broke​ through the clouds​​​ after the storm.⁠​⁠

Foam‍⁠⁠ crashing against half-collapsed‌​ piers.

At‍‌‍ first glance, it​​‌ might have seemed‌​​ bleak, but the​‍​ girl never failed​ to portray the‍ hope that always‍‍ lingered. Because that⁠⁠ was what she​⁠‍ truly wanted to⁠​ express.

That’s‌​⁠ why she wrote‍‌‌ so late into‍​ the night with‍‌‌ her quill.

That’s⁠​ why an old‍‌‍ mercenary, reading with⁠ his chin in‍ his hand, couldn’t​​ laugh at those⁠⁠​ lines—even if they‍ were a little⁠‌ embarrassing or made⁠ his back feel‍‌ warm.

“The​​ lines you wrote⁠‍ after reflecting all⁠ night are proof‌⁠​ that you’re not‍ an empty person,​ Miss Denise. Do‍ I seem like⁠‌ someone cold-hearted enough⁠ to dismiss those⁠ things as foolish?”​⁠

“…”‍⁠‍

“I​​‌ thought you might⁠ take it as‍ an empty compliment,‍ but I still​⁠ wanted to say‍ I enjoyed it.”​​‍

Dereck‍ spoke with his⁠ usual steady demeanor.⁠ From the moment‍ they met in⁠ Raspah Cave until​‌⁠ now, he’d never‍‌‍ changed.

She​‌ was starting to⁠⁠‌ understand the value​ of his persistence.⁠‍ Denise looked at⁠‍‌ Dereck in silence,‍‍ then laughed softly.‍‍​

It‍ was a laugh⁠⁠ that bloomed like‌ a flower bud.‍

“Dereck,⁠ you’re… very hard‍ to figure out.”‍

In​ the dark basement,⁠‍ with no one‍​⁠ around, Denise ran⁠‌ her hand through‍​ her hair for‌‍‍ no particular reason.⁠​

Whether‌​ it was embarrassment,⁠ shyness, or something‌‍‍ else—she didn’t know…⁠‍ but it was⁠ hard to hold​​​ eye contact with‍⁠ Dereck.

Even⁠ so, it didn’t⁠ feel uncomfortable at‍​ all.

***‍

“Miss​⁠ Denise is in​‍ the pavilion.”

“Already?‌‍ She arrived quickly.”⁠⁠⁠

“Are⁠ you ready to⁠‌ go downstairs now?”​

“No,​​‍ make them wait⁠⁠ a bit.”

Some‍​​ servants were busy​ adjusting the neckline‍ on Diella’s dress.​

Diella,‌‍ clad in a gorgeous frock festooned​‍‍ with ruffles in⁠ the dressing room,‌​ dawdled without emerging.⁠⁠ Making the guests⁠ wait was a kind of power⁠ play.

Time‌‍​ had passed since⁠⁠ the psychological warfare‍⁠ at that gathering.​ Now it was‌ the day of‌ the duel agreed‌‍ upon between Diella‌ and Denise.

The⁠‌‍ terms set by‌ Diella were surprisingly⁠ generous, even from​⁠⁠ the Beltus family’s‌ standpoint.

There‍‌ was no reason‌ to refuse: she‌‌ offered to buy​‍​ a non-existent painting⁠‍​ at risk, even​ handing over cash.‍

The‌‍⁠ conditions were outrageously‍⁠ lavish for securing⁠​ a plebeian mercenary—but‍‍‍ the Duke of⁠ Beltus was willing‌ to go this⁠‌ far to gain‌⁠ someone like Dereck.​‌

“Miss‌‍ Diella… I hesitate‌⁠ to say this,‌ but…”

“I’m‌ tired of hearing‍‍‍ it. You want​​‍ me to show⁠⁠‍ some respect to‌‍ Lady Denise, correct?”‍‌‌

“…”‌

When‍ the butler Delron‌⁠ spoke firmly like⁠‌ that, even the​⁠ cruel Diella could‌ only respond with⁠⁠ a long sigh.‍

No⁠ matter how much​‍⁠ she might become‍ the mistress of⁠ the Duplain family,​ she couldn’t harm⁠‌ the butler responsible‍ for the whole‍‍​ household.

Still,⁠​​ whether or not‍ she would listen⁠ remained another matter.‌​

“I​ know. She may‍⁠ play the affectionate⁠‌‍ angel, but she’s​‌ the type to⁠‍⁠ turn her hand‌‍ on you anytime.”‍

“Lady​⁠⁠ Denise of the​⁠‌ Beltus family is‌⁠‍ highly respected even​ in Salon Rose.⁠ If she really⁠ were as dangerous‍ as she seems,⁠​ wouldn’t she be⁠⁠ a heavy burden​ on you, Miss​‌‍ Diella?”

Butler‍‍​ Delron offered his​⁠‌ advice boldly. Of⁠​ course, he had​‍​ his own motives.‍​​

“As​ the mercenary said,⁠ if you become‌ Lady Denise’s enemy,⁠ your ties with‌‍ Salon Rose might​⁠​ not remain unstrained.”‌⁠‍

“Ugh…​ the butler always‍ brings up Dereck​⁠ whenever things aren’t​‍ going your way…”​

Diella⁠‍‍ groaned as she‌‌‍ spoke.

Every‌ time Dereck entered‍‌ the equation, her⁠​ resolve softened—and she​ couldn’t help thinking​‍ deeper.

What⁠ if, by chance,‌‍ Denise harbored no⁠‌‍ hostility toward her?​⁠ What if, by​ chance, the letters⁠ Denise had sent‍ had been genuine?​‍ What if, by‍‌ chance, Denise was‍‌⁠ simply a kind⁠‌‌ noblewoman who didn’t‍ intend to deceive?​‌

These⁠‌⁠ possibilities tormented her⁠ mind even as⁠ she walked toward‍‌ the pavilion, lost‌‌​ in thought.

But‍ in the end,‌ those were just‌ thoughts. What mattered​‍‍ now was something‌‍ else.

Today’s‍⁠‍ magical duel would‍ take place in⁠‌​ the private dueling‌‌ arena located in‍⁠ Diella’s pavilion.

Since‍​⁠ it was a newly built facility,​ she wanted to​ inspect it herself—and‌‍​ did not want⁠‍⁠ to showcase her⁠⁠‍ skills in a public place where‍‍⁠ others could watch.​⁠⁠ Denise had agreed‍‌ readily and came​⁠ to Diella’s house​‍‍ as an early​‌‌ guest.

It‍⁠ would have been‍​ natural for the‌‍‌ hostess to personally​ greet such an‌​ honored visitor—but Diella‌‌‍ left Denise waiting‍‍ alone in the⁠‍‌ reception room for​⁠ quite some time.‍

She‍ intended to provoke⁠‍ a little mind⁠ game with that‌ delay. After what‌ felt like an​ eternity, Diella finally​‍‌ entered the reception​‌ room with a relaxed air; by‍‍‍ then, Denise was​ already seated at‍⁠ the guest table.​

Humming⁠ a tune while⁠‌ nonchalantly flipping through​⁠ a book, she‍‍ looked at ease⁠ as ever.

She‌‌‌ even seemed more‍⁠ comfortable than she‌‌‌ had at the​​ Salon Rose meeting,‌ as if she’d​‌ done some preparation.‍

Diella​‌ furrowed her brow‌ deeply and sat⁠⁠⁠ down across the‌⁠ table. Denise closed⁠ her book, set‌ it aside, and‌⁠ greeted her with⁠⁠ an elegant bow,‌​‍ her smile radiating​⁠ like the sun.‌​‍

“Are‍⁠‍ you well, Miss​​⁠ Diella?”

“Yes.‌ Perfectly fine.”

Diella⁠‍ answered curtly, but⁠‌‌ Denise didn’t seem​⁠ to mind at‌ all.

She​‌ simply picked up‍‌ the teacup—which had‍‍‍ already gone cold—sipped​​ delicately, and smiled‍‍⁠ with her customary​ grace.

“This‍‌​ new house is‍⁠‍ truly beautiful. It​‍⁠ suits the grandeur⁠‌ of the Duplain‍ family.”

As⁠‌ Denise offered light,​‍ polite conversation with‍​‌ a sweet smile,‌​ Diella felt a strange pressure. No‍⁠⁠ matter how harsh​‌​ she could be,‌​ her opponent showed⁠‌ no sign of‍​‍ offense.

With⁠ silver‑gray hair, bright‍‍⁠ eyes, gracious manner,⁠​ and limitless poise,‍​‍ she embodied the‌​⁠ noble lady.

Though‍‌​ she didn’t raise​‍ her voice or​​‌ show anger, she⁠‍ radiated an oddly‍‌ oppressive aura.

While⁠‍ many high‑ranked noblewomen‍‌ often felt intimidated‌ in front of‍​ Diella, Denise appeared‌⁠‌ unmoved.

Yet​‌ there was no⁠⁠ need for confrontation.‍ Diella sighed and​‍ then laughed. A beautiful rose always‍‍ has thorns.

And‌ so do people.‍​⁠

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