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Noble Lady Reformation Guide Chapter 85: Marriage Proposal (1)

Chapter 85: Marriage Proposal (1)

The​ original purpose of⁠ debuting in high⁠‌⁠ society was to‌⁠ foster cultural, artistic,​⁠ and magical exchanges‍‌​ with people of‍ high standing, as⁠‌ well as to​⁠⁠ cultivate and refine⁠⁠‍ oneself.

However,⁠⁠‌ those were just​ surface-level reasons. The‍​‌ real reason young​‍ ladies gathered in‌⁠⁠ one place to​ showcase their beauty‍ and manners was,​⁠⁠ in many cases,‌ to secure a good marriage proposal.​‍

Especially​ for lesser nobles‌ or those of⁠​ ambiguous status, the‍‍⁠ sole intent was​​​ to catch a good noble and‌‌ achieve social elevation.‌

Such​⁠ people focused more‌​‍ on attending dances‍‌​ and banquets to‍‍⁠ mingle with nobles‌‍ than on debating‍‍‌ philosophical speeches or‍​ advancing their magical​⁠ prowess in cultural​ centers.

If​ they managed to​​‌ catch the attention‍‍​ of a man‍⁠⁠ from a ducal⁠‍ family and marry‌‍‌ him, it meant​‌ a total life⁠‍​ change, so families‍ often pushed their‍‌‌ daughters in various​ ways. That was,​​⁠ essentially, the logic‌ of social circles.​‍

Between‌​ high-ranking territorial nobles​⁠‍ and lesser nobles,⁠‌‌ there existed an⁠⁠⁠ unbridgeable gap.

There⁠⁠ were almost no​‍‍ marriage proposals between​‌ the two levels,​⁠ so the eyes⁠ of powerful nobles⁠⁠‌ naturally turned to‍ the top of⁠​ Ebelstein’s social circle,‌ rather than to‍ lesser noblewomen obsessed‍‌​ with marriage.

Those​‌‌ at the top​‍ were clearly defined.‌

They‌‍ were Aiselin of‍‌ Duplain, Ellen of​​‌ Belmierd, and Denise‌ of Beltus.

If‍‍ someone managed to‍ marry one of‌​‍ the three, even‍​⁠ a weak peripheral​‌ noble could quickly‌‍​ rise to power.​⁠⁠

That’s‍​‍ why, from border‍⁠ nobles to influential‌‍‌ lords, they often​ wrote passionate letters‌ or sent fresh,​ expensive flowers as‍ gifts to the‍ three of the‌‍ Rosea Salon to‌ make a good‍​‍ impression.

The⁠ competition was so‌⁠ fierce that the‌ daily routine of‍ a designated maid​‌ began with clearing‍ away letters filled​​ with flirtatious words‌ and organizing the‍ flowers that arrived​ at the mansion‍‍​ entrance to plant‍‌ them in the‍ garden.

That’s‍⁠ how many marriage​ proposals rained down​‌‍ on the daughters​​ of powerful families.​⁠

There​‌⁠ were also many‌⁠ daughters of lesser‍‌‌ nobles in Ebelstein’s​‍ social circle who‍‍ were obsessed with⁠ getting a marriage​‌‍ proposal.

And⁠ once one reached⁠ the level of‍​⁠ being among the‌‌ top three of‍‍ the Rose Salon,‍⁠‌ countless nobles cast​ seductive glances their⁠‍​ way. Knowing these​​⁠ two facts, it​ wasn’t hard to​⁠ predict what would‌‌⁠ come next.

“Duplain‌⁠‍ is no longer​ a family worthy⁠ of being at‌​ the top of‍‌ the Rose Salon.”⁠​

Denise‍‌ thought that, at​​ last, the inevitable⁠​ had come. This​⁠‍ was said during‌ a late afternoon‌​ meeting in the​⁠ Elfontaine Salon.

When‍ Duplain’s name was⁠​ at the top,‍ such words would’ve‍‍⁠ been considered blasphemy,⁠⁠⁠ but none of‌⁠⁠ the young ladies⁠‌​ present at the‌‍ salon meeting could‌​‍ refute it.

The‌‍ tale of the‌ Duplain family’s decline​ had long ceased⁠ to be a mere rumor and⁠‍​ had become a known fact.

That​ Aiselin had gone‍⁠‍ north to earn‍ money, and that​ Diella was going​​ door to door‍⁠ asking for loans,‌​ was well known.‌⁠⁠

They​‍ had lost all‍ the dignity a leading noble family‍‍⁠ should possess.

Even‍ if a wealthy‍ family falls, it⁠‌‍ is said to⁠ endure for three‍ generations, but at⁠ least in noble⁠‍ society, where justification⁠‌ and dignity reign,‌ they could no​ longer raise their‍​ voice.

Therefore,‍‍ it was considered‍‍ absurd for the⁠ Duplain family to⁠‌⁠ retain one of​‍ the three coveted⁠‍⁠ spots in the⁠ Rose Salon.

“So‌ I think we​ should choose someone‌‌ to take that⁠ place instead of​​⁠ the Duplain family.”​‍

Ellen,‍⁠⁠ who was silently‌​​ seated beside the​‍ refreshment table, frowned,‌ and Denise, who‍​ was listening from‌​ the other end,​⁠‍ sighed as well.⁠‍

The‌⁠​ speaker was Trisha,‍‌ daughter of Viscount​‍ Renouel.

Her‌⁠ beautiful wavy hair⁠‍ was charming, but​​ her occasional freckles‌‌⁠ slightly ruined her⁠​⁠ elegant aura.

She‌​‍ was someone with⁠ a strong desire⁠‌​ to climb the‍⁠ social ladder by‍‍ catching a good‌​ marriage proposal, rather​ than dedicating herself⁠ to studies or‍ self-cultivation.

‘It’s​​ a predictable story⁠​ even without hearing‍‍​ it.’

Denise‍‍ felt she could⁠‍ understand Trisha’s intentions⁠‌⁠ without needing her‌​ to finish speaking.‌‌

She‍ wanted to remove‍‌​ Duplain from the‍​ top three and‍​⁠ take that place⁠​ herself. The motive‌‌ was all too​ obvious.

Denise‍ was already fed⁠ up with young‍ ladies who only‌⁠‍ thought about marriage.⁠

They⁠⁠‌ believed that Aiselin,‍​⁠ Ellen, and Denise​ had reached their‍⁠​ positions solely due​‍ to their family‌ prestige.

They⁠‌ thought that if​​ they could push‍​ Duplain out and⁠ ride on the​⁠⁠ name value of⁠‍ their own family,‌⁠⁠ they too could⁠ ascend to a position where they⁠‍ received flirtatious attention‌‌‌ from all the‍​‍ nobles.

“Is⁠⁠⁠ there anyone who‌​​ disagrees with me?”‍​⁠

Trisha,⁠⁠ standing on the​‍⁠ podium with her⁠ hands on her‍ hips, wore a triumphant expression.

Viscount‍‍ Renouel, who stood‌ behind her, had⁠ considerable influence despite‍‌​ his rank.

If⁠‍⁠ Duplain fell, one‍‍⁠ of the three‌ families—Renouel, Pellobel, or‍ Logwalz—would take that⁠⁠​ place. She seemed‍ more than ready‍​ to jump into‌​‍ that competition.

‘None‌⁠‌ of them compare⁠‍⁠ to Belmierd or‌‍ Beltus in power,‍⁠‌ but Duplain’s fall⁠‌‌ does seem inevitable.’⁠‍‍

Denise⁠ watched the situation​​⁠ with her arms​ crossed. Glancing at​‌‌ Ellen, she noticed​​ she was thinking‍‌ the same.

In​⁠‌ the end, noble​‌ decisions were primarily‍ influenced by the‍⁠⁠ battle for justification.​​⁠

“…No,‌​ one of you⁠​‍ will object.”

When⁠ Trisha said that,‍​‍ all eyes turned⁠ to one corner.‌​

Diella,​ who was sitting​⁠‍ at the far‌ end of the‍‌​ meeting hall sipping‍⁠​ black tea, received​‌ their stares.

‘…So‌‌ that’s how they​‌‌ want to play‌⁠‌ it.’

Diella‌⁠ put down her​⁠‍ tea and stared‍ silently toward the⁠ podium for a moment.

Everyone​‌​ who knew her​‌ personality swallowed nervously.‌‌

As​‌⁠ Dereck’s first disciple‌ and the youngest​ of the Duplain⁠ family, she was⁠‌‍ known for her‌⁠‍ explosive temper.

If​ something displeased her,‌‍⁠ she never hesitated‌‍‍ to lash out—one‍​​ example being against‍ Denise of the‍ Beltus family, the‌ treasure of that⁠ house.

But‌ that had only​ been possible thanks⁠ to the Duplain​ name.

Even⁠⁠ if she was​ still a noble‌ lady, in a family struggling to‍‌​ pay their servants’‍‍​ wages, she could‍ no longer display‍ the same grandeur‍‌ as before.

“What⁠⁠ an interesting declaration,‌ Lady Trisha. You​ speak as if‌​ you see the⁠ Duplain family as‌⁠ a toothless tiger.”​⁠⁠

“And​ isn’t it?”

The‍⁠⁠ tone was openly‍‍ defiant. Some young‌⁠ ladies still afraid​ of Diella held‌ their breath.

But‌ Trisha just crossed‍‍⁠ her arms and⁠‍ smiled arrogantly.

“History​‌ moves on. If⁠ it’s time to‍​ disappear quietly, then​​‍ disappear quietly.”

“Even‍ if Lord Marcus‍‌‍ of Viscount Renouel’s‌⁠‍ family is considered‍​​ powerful, I wonder‌‌ if that authority​‌‍ is enough to​‌‌ be rude to​‍ a ducal family.”‌‍

Rumors⁠‍⁠ had long circulated⁠‍​ that Viscount Renouel’s‍‍​ family would receive⁠ a larger territory​ in the capital.‍⁠

Duplain‌⁠⁠ was a falling‌ star, and Renouel‍ a rising sun.‌⁠‌ Everyone present knew‍‍ that fact.

But‌⁠‌ Diella was still‌⁠ Diella.

She‍‍⁠ wouldn’t cause a scene by recklessly⁠⁠ using magic in‍ the middle of‌ the meeting, but⁠⁠‍ she also wouldn’t⁠ sit idly by.‌

Seated‍‍‍ with her arms‌​​ crossed in that‍ tense atmosphere, Diella‌​⁠ looked up and​‍⁠ said:

“Well,‌‌ there’s nothing wrong​ with what you’re⁠ saying.”

‘….!?’‌

Everyone‍ present inwardly reeled.​⁠

Even⁠ Trisha, who had⁠​⁠ launched openly hostile‍‌ attacks, looked taken⁠ aback. She had‍ come to the‌​⁠ meeting expecting Diella⁠ to speak out.⁠⁠‌

But⁠​ Diella spoke calmly,⁠‌ her tone restrained.​

“I⁠⁠‍ acknowledge that the​‍​ name Duplain no​⁠ longer carries the‍⁠​ weight it once‍⁠​ did. However, to‌‍ consider it a toothless tiger may​‍​ be nothing more⁠‌‍ than Lady Trisha’s‍‌​ arrogance.”

Diella​ rose with her​ hands resting on‍ the table, her​ eyes shining.

“If​‌⁠ Duplain’s power ever⁠⁠‌ returns, be ready‌‍ — they might⁠‌ bite your arm⁠‌ off.”

“…”‌‌

“Remember‌ that the name‍‌‌ Renouel, Viscount of​‌‍ Renouel, has been‍​‍ etched into the​ memory of I,‍​‌ Diella Katherine Duplain.”‌‌⁠

Even‍⁠⁠ as she admitted⁠⁠ the decline of​ her authority, the⁠ young lioness lifted​‌ her head with​ a force that⁠ bordered on murderous.‌

Though‌ everyone knew Duplain⁠​‌ was faltering, witnessing‍ Diella, it seemed​⁠‍ as if the​ wounded lion would‍ one day rise⁠‍ and bite the‍‍‌ neck of Viscount‌​‌ Renouel.

What‍​ strength remained with⁠⁠‍ a noble family​ whose head had⁠ died, had no‌​​ proper successor, and‌⁠‍ had lost nearly‍⁠⁠ all its lands‍ and privilege?

Even‌​⁠ so, seeing Diella⁠​‌ made it feel​⁠ like the wounded​ lion might one​‍ day rise again.⁠⁠​

Trisha,‍ who had tried​‌ to mock, swallowed‍ painfully in the‍‌ face of Diella’s⁠‍⁠ spirit.

A single drop of⁠⁠​ cold sweat trickled‍ down her cheek⁠‌​ — the final​ touch to the​‌ moment.

Click.‌

Stepping​‌​ through the main‌⁠‌ door of the‌⁠​ Elfontaine Salon, Diella⁠‌‍ looked up at‌‍⁠ the sky where‍‍​ the sun had​⁠‍ already risen.

Twisting‌​‍ the ends of​‌‌ her blonde hair‍​‍ with discomfort, the​⁠ young ladies around‌‍ her swallowed nervously​ and stepped back.‌⁠

“Sigh…”⁠‍

Sighing‍‌ as if lamenting​⁠ something, Diella shielded‍‍ her eyes from‍‍ the sun with​ her fingers and‍‌‍ murmured softly.

‘What‌ a mess… And‌‍​ all of this​‍‍ is happening while​‌⁠ my sister is‌‌ away…’

Aiselin,⁠ who had departed​ north with Dereck,​ would soon return.⁠

When​​‍ she came back⁠ to Ebelstein and‌ saw that there​‌ was no longer‌ a seat for‍‍‍ her at the‌​⁠ top of the​ Rose Salon, what‌ would she think?‍ From Diella’s perspective,‍ it was a deeply uncomfortable situation.‌‌

‘I…​ also miss Dereck…’‌​⁠

Diella‍ felt utterly alone.⁠⁠​

There‍ was much to​‌ do, no clear​‍ path forward, and‌ the situation only⁠‍ grew worse.

This⁠‍ incident would not​ benefit Dereck either.‍

The​‍ three people at​⁠ the top of‍ the Rose Salon‍⁠⁠ were either disciples‍‍⁠ of Dereck or‌‌‌ linked to him.⁠⁠

Yet⁠ if Duplain withdrew​‌ from that position,​⁠⁠ whoever took its‌ place would likely​⁠⁠ have no connection‌‍ to Dereck.

‘The​‌​ odds that someone⁠​‌ favorable to Dereck‌ will sit there⁠‍ are extremely low…’‍‍

To​⁠‍ occupy the position‍ left by Duplain,‌​⁠ not only was‌‍‌ family prestige required,​‍ but also an‌​ overwhelmingly outstanding quality.​‍

At​ least in the‍‌ current social circle⁠⁠ of Ebelstein, there‌ weren’t many families⁠ capable of aspiring‌⁠‌ to that position.‌

If⁠ Lady Trisha truly​‌⁠ took that seat,‍ it was impossible‌ to know what‍ impact that would⁠ have on Dereck.‌

It‍​ was a moment‍‌ filled with bad​ news.

***⁠​

“Yesterday,⁠‌‌ Lady Siern called​​‌ me ‘Sister Aiselin’​‍‌ again. It was​​ the eighth time.‍ Now she calls‍ me sister naturally,⁠ and I don’t‌‍ know… my heart⁠⁠‍ is overflowing… Is⁠​ this love…?”

As⁠ for Aiselin — she already had​ that “street‑cat collector”​‌⁠ vibe, feeling a tickle of emotion​⁠‌ in earning the⁠ trust of the​​ lost Siern.

The‍​‌ next morning, she⁠ went to find‍‌ Dereck and boasted⁠​ so eagerly that​​ Dereck, still half‍ asleep, scratched at‍ his tousled hair‍⁠​ and sighed.

“Ah…‌ I came too‍‌​ early, didn’t I?‍‍​ I wanted to⁠ show someone… but‌​⁠ there’s no one‌ else but you,​ Lord Dereck…”

“No,⁠‍ it’s fine. I was due to⁠ get up anyway,⁠‌⁠ and I wanted⁠‌ to go over‌ the schedule.”

Dereck‍ shook his head,​​‍ opened the door‌ to his private‍‌ room, invited Aiselin‌ in, and stretched.‌​

He‍ sat before Aiselin,⁠⁠​ who had already⁠​​ settled at the⁠ table, and naturally​‌⁠ poured some tea.‍

“Let’s‍ return to Ebelstein‌‌ next week.”

“…Really?”‍‍

“Yes.​​‌ Lady Siern hasn’t⁠‌ attacked anyone with⁠‌ her killer instinct‍⁠‍ in the past⁠⁠‌ weeks, right? Once‌ she begins to⁠‌‍ control it to‍ some degree, there​‌ isn’t much more⁠‍ magical instruction to⁠​‍ give.”

Because‍ Dereck wasn’t particularly‌ good at making‌⁠‍ tea, Aiselin naturally​⁠ brought out the​​ teapot and began‍‌​ to serve herself.‌

In​ fact, she could’ve​ asked a maid​​‌ to do it,‌ but since becoming⁠⁠​ a fallen noble,‍ Aiselin had taken​ on many duties⁠⁠‍ herself.

From‍‌​ the perspective of‌ an untitled commoner,⁠‍ it was quite‍‍‍ awkward—and Dereck had​​⁠ told her many‌‌‌ times, but Aiselin‌‍ did not care.‍‍‍

“If​⁠⁠ we want Lady⁠ Siern to debut‌​⁠ in Ebelstein’s social⁠‍​ circles, we have​‌ to bring her‍‍​ there first.”

“Even⁠​⁠ so, if the⁠‍ blood of Noir‍‍‌ becomes unrestrained again,‌​​ it could become⁠⁠ a serious problem.”‌‌​

“We​‌‍ just have to⁠​ stay vigilant. Fortunately,‌‍ I am a mercenary stationed in‌⁠​ Ebelstein, and you,​‌‍ Lady Aiselin, frequent⁠ those circles—so you‌​ can keep watch.”​

Dereck⁠‍ sat across from‌‍ her, dusting off‍‌ his clothes and⁠‍‌ smoothing his disheveled‍​‍ locks with his​​ fingers. Seeing him,​​​ Aiselin laughed.

“…Is⁠‍ something wrong?”

“No.‍ It’s just that⁠‍ you’re normally so⁠ pristine, Dereck, but‍​ seeing you relaxed‌ like this is⁠ refreshing.”

“Because⁠ of my work,​​ I deal with​‍‍ nobles often—so I have no choice.⁠​ When I’m on​​ a mercenary job,​‌⁠ I’m even more‍ unkempt than this.”‌​⁠

When⁠‍‍ he and Pheline‍​‌ went hunting for‌‍ days, they often​‍‍ didn’t wash or‍ change clothes.

Indeed,​‌ this level of‌ disarranged appearance might‌‌ not even qualify​ as ‘dirty.’

“If‍‍ Duplain’s prestige were⁠ still intact, you⁠‌‍ wouldn’t dare address​ me so familiarly,​ Dereck.”

“Even​​ now, I try​ to show you‌​ the proper respect‍​​ due your nobility.‌​‌ I don’t adjust​‌​ my attitude based‌ on a family’s⁠‍ prestige.”

“Honestly,‌‌ I feel like⁠⁠⁠ I’ve grown close‍⁠⁠ to you a lot, Dereck. Unconsciously,‌​⁠ the gap between‍‌ our statuses has​‍ shrinked compared to‌​​ before—and that shows‌ in everything.”

“If‌ I’ve been disrespectful,‌ I apologize.”

“No,‍​ on the contrary—I‌⁠‌ like it. Sometimes,‌ a fall can‍⁠‌ be beneficial in​‌ that sense.”

It​​ may be an⁠‌​ overly optimistic view,​⁠​ but maintaining that‍⁠⁠ attitude even on‍⁠ small matters is​‌ beneficial in a precarious situation.

Dereck‌ nodded softly at‌⁠ Aiselin’s words.

“I​⁠‌ can’t deny your⁠ words, Dereck. You‍‍ don’t change your​⁠⁠ attitude based on​‍ family prestige, but…‌ hmm… there’s no‍⁠⁠ guarantee that the⁠ people of the‌ Rose Salon will​ do the same.”‍​⁠

“What​ do you mean?”‍

“You​‍ said we should‌​‍ return to Ebelstein,‌ right? If we​‍ do… there’s a strong chance my⁠ seat at the⁠ top of the⁠ Rose Salon might‌‍ no longer belong‍‌ to me.”

At⁠ those words, Dereck⁠​‍ went silent for⁠ a moment. For‍⁠‍ a noble lady,​⁠‌ to be degraded‌ in status and⁠ expelled from the‍ top is a shocking event.

Loss⁠ of status weighs​ far more than‌​ the joy of‌ rising. That’s how⁠​ the world works;‌⁠ loss always hits⁠‌ harder.

“Who​‍​ do you think‍​ will occupy that‌‌ seat?”

The⁠‌​ people in the⁠ salon would decide⁠ after considering the‍ family’s prestige, magical‌‌⁠ achievements, culture, and‍ dignity.

“At​​ this point, I think it might⁠‌‍ be Lady Trisha⁠ of the viscount⁠ Renouel’s family or‍​⁠ Lady Prim of‌​ the count Pelobel’s​ family… but, well,​​​ who knows.”

“Oh,⁠‍ really?”

“Yes.​‌ Soon, someone like‌ a storm will‍⁠ debut in the⁠ social circles of‍​​ Ebelstein.”

“…”‌​​

Those‌⁠​ words were undeniably⁠‍ true.

Dereck’s‍‍‌ new disciple, Siern‍‍‍ Alaina Rochester, was‍​ none other than​⁠ the daughter of​ Lord Melverot.

She​⁠⁠ was the young​‌⁠ lady of the‌ ducal Rochester family,‍‍ capable of handling‌⁠‌ three-star magic at⁠​ such a young‌ age, and had‌‌ received direct cultural‍‍ education from Aiselin.⁠‍‍

While⁠ wandering through the​‌⁠ snowy plains, it‌ wasn’t noticeable, but‌ when dressed in‍‌‍ a pretty ruffled‌‌ dress and sitting⁠​​ modestly, she looked⁠‌‍ like a beautiful⁠‌‍ and delicate porcelain⁠‌⁠ doll.

Although‍ the single white‌​⁠ strand of hair⁠⁠⁠ falling over her‍‌ forehead gave her‍‌⁠ a slightly gloomy‍​ impression, it was‍​ safe to say⁠ that hardly anyone‌ could match her‍‍​ overall.

Dereck‍⁠‌ and Aiselin had​ worked tirelessly over‌‌ the last month‌ to mold her​‍ into a suitable‌⁠ person, and most​‍ of her flaws​ had already been‍ corrected.

If⁠‍⁠ she were to‌ sit at the⁠⁠ top of the‌‍ Salon Rose, she​ would support Duplain‌ and Dereck more‌ than anyone else.⁠‌

“However,‍‌ sometimes I feel‌ a… strange air…”⁠​‌

“Really?”⁠⁠

Aiselin,⁠ who spent a lot of time‌ with Siern, had‍⁠ had many emotional‌​‌ exchanges with her.‌⁠‍

But‌ sometimes, when she‍​‍ looked at Siern,​‌ she felt an⁠‌ inexplicable chill or‍‌‌ her skin would​‌ crawl.

Siern‌​ was human. Aiselin⁠⁠‍ affirmed that fact‍⁠ with more conviction‌⁠ than anyone. However,⁠ at times, when​​​ speaking with Siern,⁠ there were moments⁠⁠ when human logic‍‌ and reason didn’t‌‌ apply.

Once,⁠​ while they were‌⁠ bathing together, Siern‌ said something strange‍‌‌ while in Aiselin’s‌ arms.

— Sister Aiselin. What‌‍ is your relationship⁠ with Dereck, the‌⁠ magic teacher?

— Me? Well… we‍⁠ just know each​‍ other from the‍​‌ social circles…

— Really…?

— Yes, of course…‌‍‌ Why? Are you‍⁠‌ curious about Dereck?‍

— Yes… He’s quite⁠⁠ popular in the⁠⁠ social circles of​ Ebelstein… I’m worried​​​ he might not​​ pay enough attention​ to my condition‍ or my magic‌ once we return…‍​

— Oh, you don’t​ need to worry‍ about that. Dereck‍ is a very​‍⁠ responsible person.

Although‍ Aiselin tried to‌‍ reassure her, Siern,​‍ blowing bubbles, spoke⁠ with a displeased‍⁠‌ expression.

— But I really​⁠ would prefer if⁠​‌ he only cared⁠ for me… What‌‌ should I do​​ to make that‌ happen…?

— Is there even‍​ a way? Just​‌​ work hard… and‍‍ keep up with​‍ the classes, isn’t‌ that enough?

— I can’t help​​‌ but feel uneasy.​ There are more…‍ secure methods, you‌ know? Like locking‌​ him in a tower… or tying‌‌ him up…

— Do you really⁠​ think such… scary‍⁠‌ things?

— No, it’s just‌‌‍ a joke… Besides,​ I basically already‌​ live locked in‍​ a tower…

The‍ mere fact that‍‍ she said something‌‌ like that so‍​ naturally was enough‌‍‍ to send shivers.​‍​

In​​ any case, if‌ one only looked⁠ at her appearance,‍ she was a charming and adorable​⁠⁠ girl. Only, her⁠ way of thinking⁠‌​ had become a bit wild from⁠ being confined during‍‌ her stormy adolescence.⁠‌

Aiselin‍‌ took it lightly,‍‌ but upon returning​ to Dereck, she​⁠ once again felt‌ an indefinable unease.​​

“Dereck…”‌

“Yes?”​‌‍

“Just​ in case… be‍‌‌ careful.”

“…?”⁠

Dereck‍⁠‍ could only look​ at Aiselin with⁠ a puzzled expression‌​ while sipping his‌​ tea.

***⁠

“Yes.‍‌⁠ Before debuting in​‍ society, it wouldn’t‌ be bad to⁠⁠ show Siern the​ noble circles of​​‍ Ebelstein. Allow her⁠⁠​ to accompany you.”‌

As‍ always, Lord Melverot​​ didn’t bother to‌​‌ look at those‍⁠ reporting to him.‍‌

Without​ even glancing at‌‌‍ them, he simply​‍​ gazed out the⁠ window, maintaining his‌​ arrogant posture, barely​‍‌ paying attention.

Aiselin‌​ and Dereck reported‍​​ on Siern’s condition⁠​ and confirmed that⁠​⁠ the conditions were​​‍ sufficient for her⁠ to accompany them‌​ to Ebelstein.

There‌ were still some​​ dangerous aspects, but​‍‍ they were manageable​​‍ if both were​​ careful.

“If‌‍ Lady Siern debuts​‌ in the social⁠​ circles of Ebelstein,‍ it will be⁠‌ like a great⁠ storm, attracting much​⁠ attention. Lady Siern‌⁠ is worth it.”‍

“It’s​‌ fine to praise‍ her, but attention​‍‌ isn’t always favorable.”⁠⁠

“That…⁠ is true, but…”​​‍

Aiselin,​‌ very aware of‌ the gloomy atmosphere⁠‍ of Ebelstein’s social‍​ circles, couldn’t refute‌⁠ Melverot’s words.

“On‍ the way back,‌​‌ pass through the⁠‌​ territory of Rodelen.‌​ You can take‍ a quick look‌‌ if you cross⁠ the lands of‌‍ the Duke of‍ Beltus.”

The‌ Rodelen territory was‍‍‌ the land that​ would belong to‌‌ Dereck if he‍ were granted a title.

It​⁠ was so small‌‍ it was almost‌ embarrassing to call​‍​ it a “territory,”‍ and most of‍ it was vineyards,​ so there wasn’t‍⁠⁠ much to see⁠ except for the​​ delicious wine.

Even‍ so, it was‌ the place he​​‍ would manage if⁠​​ granted a title.⁠‍

“I’ve‌⁠‌ heard there’s a mansion, but it’s⁠‍⁠ old and deteriorated,‌ so it’s not‌⁠ much. Just be‌​​ thankful it exists.”​‍

“I’m‌‌​ grateful.”

“I’ve‍⁠ informed the territory‍​ management staff of‍‍ your appointment, so‍⁠ there shouldn’t be​‍ major issues with​​ the handover. However,‌⁠ the problem lies‌⁠ in the granting‌‌ of the title​⁠ itself.”

Melverot,‍​⁠ resting his chin​​ on his hand​‍‍ and crossing his‍ legs, sighed deeply‌⁠ as if he‍‍ had a headache.‍⁠⁠

“I​​​ expected a lukewarm‍ response from the⁠ central nobles, but⁠ the Grand Duke​‌⁠ of Beltus, in‌‌​ the southwest of​⁠⁠ the continent, has⁠‍⁠ expressed opposition.”

It‌‌ was not expected‍⁠‍ that Duplain or⁠‍ Belmierd would oppose‍‌‍ granting Dereck a title, but Beltus​⁠​ was completely different.‌‍⁠

Especially‌‍ since the Rodelen⁠⁠‍ territory, where Dereck‍⁠ would settle, bordered​ the Duke of⁠‍​ Beltus’s lands. It⁠​ was inevitable they’d‍‍‌ react more sensitively⁠ than other families.​‌

“This‍ is a problem‌​ I have to⁠ resolve myself, so‌⁠ you don’t have⁠​ to worry too⁠‌ much. However, there’s‌ another matter you​ two must resolve.”​

“What⁠⁠ is it?”

“The​‌​ fact that you’re‍‌ an orphan.”

Melverot⁠ dropped the line‌ coldly.

It‍​ was a blunt‍​⁠ comment that startled⁠ Aiselin, but Dereck‌‌‌ didn’t flinch. It‍ was an obvious‍⁠ truth.

“If‍‌​ you want to‌ receive a title‍‌ and claim to‍ be head of‍ a noble house,‌‌⁠ you must have‌ a family and‌⁠ a house. However,‌‍‍ you are only‍ known as Dereck,‍⁠‍ with no surname‍‍ to represent a house. Moreover, you​ have no connections⁠‌ whatsoever.”

“Is​‌ that such a big problem to​⁠ receive the title?”‌‍

“Of​⁠ course it is.​ If the formal​ requirements aren’t met,‌​ the process can’t​​ proceed, right?”

No⁠‌ matter what people‌‍ say, this is‍​⁠ an era of‌ bloodlines. The existence⁠ or not of‌‍‍ a family was​⁠ an essential criterion‌ for determining title‍‍ eligibility.

If⁠​‌ one wanted to‍ consider magical lineage,​ political stability, duty⁠⁠ succession, economic base,⁠ education, reliability, and​‍ reputation, in the‌‍ end one had​⁠‍ to examine the​ family the person​​ belonged to.

That’s​ why, for an​ orphan like Dereck,‍‍ entering the closed⁠ aristocratic society was‍​​ like reaching for‌ the stars.

“Even‍‍​ if they’re not‍‌⁠ too strict about‌⁠‌ granting a minor⁠‌ barony in the‍ outskirts, you still‍⁠‌ need to meet​​ the minimum requirements.”​

“Then,⁠​ can I choose‌‍ my own surname?”‍

“That’s⁠‍ not enough.”

Aiselin‌‌⁠ thought Siern’s social‍ debut would be‍ a bombshell for‌‍ Ebelstein.

But‍⁠⁠ reality was even‍‍ bigger than that.‌

An⁠​ even bigger bomb⁠⁠⁠ was about to⁠ explode in the⁠⁠‍ social circles of⁠‍⁠ Ebelstein.

“Find‌‍ a suitable partner.‌ Even if only‍ for formality, form‍ a house and⁠‌‌ prove you belong⁠⁠​ to it.”

That‍‍‍ was the marriage‌​‌ proposal for Dereck.‍⁠​

Aiselin’s‍​ eyes widened like‍​ full moons upon‌ hearing the conversation​⁠⁠ between the two.​​⁠

Looking‍ at Dereck, who⁠ was sweating profusely,‍‌ he also seemed​​‍ deep in thought,⁠​‍ resting his chin‌‍​ on his hand.⁠

“…”​⁠​

It‌ was the first‌‍ time in her⁠‍ life Aiselin saw‍‌ Dereck sweat.

She‍‍‌ couldn’t foresee what⁠​‌ would happen if‌‍‌ this news reached​ Ebelstein.

Unfortunately,​‌ their departure was‌‌ scheduled for next‌‌ week.

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