There Are No Bad Young Ladies in the World

Magic (4)

‘Derek has been with the Beltus family as a teacher for quite some time now.’

As she listened to the presentation on magical theory at the conference, Elente of the Belmiard family, regarded as the rose of the Rozea Salon, couldn’t help but lose focus.

She was reminded of a certain mercenary teacher she loved to talk about magic with, even if it meant staying up all night.

Elente let her red hair fall and sighed briefly.

The Belmiard family had been disastrously ousted in the competition to recruit Derek, ultimately losing him to the Beltus family.

The competition among nobles for talent was always unpredictable, but losing Derek was particularly painful. The Count of Belmiard even apologized to Elente, feeling sorry for her.

It was the first time Elente had so actively demanded a teacher, so the Count of Belmiard must have rolled up his sleeves to participate.

‘I wonder if I’ve only burdened my father… Still, what terms did the Beltus family offer to take Derek away?’

Regardless, Derek was, in Elente’s opinion, an excellent magic teacher.

In an era where talented magic teachers were worth their weight in gold, she couldn’t help but wonder how much the Beltus family had offered for him.

In truth, Derek’s intention to forge a connection with the Beltus family was the most crucial variable… but Ellente had no way of knowing such intricacies.

By the time Aiselin was dismissed, it was clear that not just anyone would be taken on as a disciple.

‘Hmm… perhaps I should invite Lady Denise for tea and subtly probe…?’

Ellente, who doesn’t particularly enjoy the delicate social maneuvering of high society, finds it uncharacteristic to cunningly draw out a lady from a rival family to pry into their affairs.

Yet, it’s also true that Ellente is curious about how Denise is learning magic from Derek.

‘Yes, arranging a meeting should be fine. I’ll ask the butler to contact her.’

Lady Denise, as seen at the gatherings of the Ebelstein social circle and the Roséa Salon, always exuded an air of mystery.

Like other ladies, she was affable and dignified, but… it seemed there was a quality hidden deep within her, not openly displayed. Among the trio of the Roséa Salon, she was the most enigmatic.

‘Lady Denise… is certainly not an easy person…’

Teaching such an enshrouded figure would not be simple. After all, teaching someone ultimately means having to control them.

How exactly does Derek teach the mystique-filled Lady Denise?

Ellente wanted to see for herself, at least once.

As the magic conference concluded, Ellente rose from her seat, straightening the hem of her dress.

For the first time in a while, she felt a surge of motivation.

*

“What schemes you’re concocting, I cannot fathom… but in the end, the servants will have to side with me. Structurally, they all belong to the Beltus family.”

The next morning, after breakfast, Lady Denise stood in the corridor and spoke to Derek.

Derek, with his hands clasped behind his back, tilted his head and looked straight at Lady Denise.

“Yes?”

“It seems you’ve been making an effort to get close to the servants lately… Such behind-the-scenes maneuvering isn’t good. We should just purely teach and learn magic, right?”

“It seems there’s a misunderstanding… I am indeed trying to get along better with the servants, but it’s not for any ulterior motive.”

Lady Denise swallowed hard.

She had been openly using Derek, and he must be well aware that the Beltus family considered him a chess piece in the nobles’ power struggle.

Despite this, Derek maintained an unfazed expression. Denise found it difficult to read his true intentions.

“Indeed, as you say, Lady Denise, I must become closer to the servants. There is a purpose to my actions, but it’s nothing suspicious, and I could tell you if you asked.”

“What is it, then…?”

“What else? The servants who have supported Lady Denise for many years know her best, don’t they?”

Denise pressed for an answer, but Derek spoke as if it were nothing, maintaining eye contact with her.

“I need to know more about Lady Denise. As a teacher, it’s only natural that I want to understand even the smallest details about the person I’m teaching.”

“There’s no need to go to such lengths… I mean, as a lady of the Beltus family, you would have heard all the rumors at the Roséa Salon already, wouldn’t you?”

“Indeed, information based on such rumors has its clear limitations.”

Derrick became infinitely serious whenever he spoke about magic.

His immersion and passion made anyone who saw it click their tongues in admiration.

“Magic is profoundly complex, and the way each person handles magical power is subtly different. You have to consider the person’s temperament, thoughts, habits, values, and worldview comprehensively. While the distinction of magical schools is important, what’s equally crucial is understanding the temperament of the magician themselves.”

“…So, as I was saying…”

“How could you possibly know Miss Denise well, based only on the superficial information circulating in the Rosé Salon? What I want to know is not the superficial achievements of the lady of the Beltus family… but Denise herself. Understanding her is key to teaching magic more effectively.”

There was a certainty in Derrick’s firm tone.

Having risen from the bottom, he had his own reflections on the process by which people become adept at magic.

The lessons learned from the old man, Katia, and Drest. The insights gained while teaching Diela and Elente. And the understanding gleaned from exploring and self-studying magic.

A lifetime of such experiences had coalesced into his own philosophy on what is most important when teaching magic to others.

“So, you mean… you asked the servants about me?”

“The people who assist you closely know things that rumors can’t convey. Of course, I didn’t voice them out loud because they might embarrass Miss Denise.”

“What, what did they say…?”

“The servants hold you in high regard. You may always seem bothered and reluctant, but you know when to roll up your sleeves for the important tasks.”

Derrick relayed the words he received from the servants without omission.

Certainly, hearing them directly from his mouth, Denise couldn’t help but feel a bit embarrassed.

“I’ve heard that you’re someone who would achieve great things in magic or learning if only you put your mind to it… that despite your nonchalant and dismissive demeanor, you take good care of the servants. There were also mentions of your keen eye… and your excellent writing skills.”

“Th-the servants said that about me. Ah… ahaha… ehehe…”

“…”

“Did they say anything about my looks? That I’m prettier than Aiselin or Elente…”

“…”

“…”

Derrick was not one to offer empty flattery.

While Denise’s beauty was indeed remarkable, comparing her to Aiselin and Elente would inevitably lead anyone into deep contemplation.

“You really don’t do empty flattery, do you?”

“I have to be sincere. Only then will my words carry credibility when I speak.”

“It’s good to have convictions, but I worry you might get hurt out there.”

“I’ve been hurt plenty already.”

“I thought as much.”

With a deep sigh, Denise finally relaxed her shoulders.

I felt I had come to know a little more about this boy. The reason he mingled with the servants, whom he had no need to please even in Derek’s absence, was solely to teach magic to Denise well.

Unlike Denise, a hothouse flower, he must have traversed various labyrinths and experienced all sorts of hells.

Yet, when not necessary, he did not stubbornly confront others, often considering them with a gentlemanly grace.

It was a complete contrast to when he was buried in magic, hiding in a cave with a tarnished appearance.

Like this city of Ebelstain, he seemed to have a thousand faces. That’s why it’s hard to fathom his true intentions at a glance.

“Still… I’m, I’m proud that the servants think so highly of me. I don’t make such grand gestures of consideration… but they say I have a keen eye… and that I write well… right?”

“…”

“How did you know I write?”

“I heard it from the head maid.”

“What, how did the head maid know?”

Suddenly, Denise’s complexion turned pale. Derek had anticipated this, but as he said, he didn’t speak carelessly and conveyed it without exaggeration.

“The maids have seen you many times, sitting at your desk before sleep, quill in hand. If there’s a scratching sound in the room, those who assist must look inside, mustn’t they?”

“No, I… I always keep a close watch around me?”

“Don’t underestimate the maids. They’re like shadows, always following and assisting you, wouldn’t they notice? If the hinges are well-oiled, even slightly opening the door makes no sound. You should have been more careful to check around the door.”

At this point, Derek could do nothing else.

He simply relayed what he had received without omission. Indeed, the servants must have been pondering when and how to convey this.

“I’ve also heard about the story… the pinkish book that comes out from lifting the bottom of the third drawer next to your bed.”

“You, you mean the servants knew about that?”

“Yes. Weren’t you writing every night? The title was… ＜The Arrogant Lord Robein＞, wasn’t it?”

“…….”

Suddenly, Denise’s breath hitched.

“I’ve heard that the psychological descriptions that seep through your beautiful prose and firm strokes are truly exquisite.”

“………….”

“I didn’t want to see it myself… but the maids insisted so much… I saw it a few times when you went out to the salon meetings… Certainly… um… the descriptions and narratives touched my heart. There are quite a few avid readers among the maids… I understood why.”

“……..hic.”

Denise hiccupped, an action that didn’t suit her.

And then, for some time, no answer came back from Denise.

Derek watched Denise’s expression for a moment. He felt he needed to choose his words carefully, adding weight to his voice. After all, it wasn’t so strange for Denise, at her age, to harbor such girlish fantasies.

“You don’t need to be too embarrassed. Creation is inherently a shy endeavor… And even an outsider like me could see that your writing was indeed admirable.”

“…”

Reading about the protagonist Tracy’s unfortunate circumstances made my heart ache. Especially coming from the slums myself, I couldn’t help but be astonished by the details. However, I’m not sure if a character like Sir Robein exists in reality… Certainly, the spiteful yet tender emotions of a man who harbors a distant love for Tracy were striking.

“…”

The entanglement and obsession, the possessiveness over Tracy… and the seven pages dedicated to describing Sir Robein’s wildness seemed a bit much, but… who knows, there might be such a man out there in the world. It’s not impossible, right? I respect that.

“aaahhh!”

Denise could no longer listen to Derek’s story and, clutching her head, ran into her room.

Derek, chin in hand, thought to himself.

Indeed, the sensibilities of a girl of this age were hard to follow.

He had said a lot, but Derek had not lied.

The reason Derek interacted with the servants was actually to learn more about Denise.

To be more precise… it was to see if she had any weaknesses.

*

“Good morning, Miss Denise.”

The next morning, Denise, with her hair in disarray, was having it tidied by a maid.

Her eyelids were swollen from almost no sleep the night before. The servants, whose duty it was to always keep the girl’s appearance beautiful, were in a quandary.

“Did you do some writing last night? You look very tired. It would be better if you didn’t let it interfere with your daily life, don’t you think?”

“Huh…”

Derek said this nonchalantly, and the surrounding servants gasped.

In fact, the maid reacting this way was one of the mansion’s servants who was an avid reader of Denise’s work.

“What are you talking about, Derek? Writing, you say…?”

It seemed Denise was strategizing to dismiss the previous day’s conversation as if it never happened.

Of course, Derek was not one to play along with such a frivolous act.

“I’m talking about ＜The Arrogant Sir Robein＞… The scene ended with Sir Robein covering Tracy with a blanket as she relived her impoverished childhood nightmares in troubled sleep-talk…”

“……..”

“I remember it well since it was the last scene. Sir Robein’s tender heart, treating the precarious Tracy as if she were a glass artifact that might shatter at the slightest touch…”

“Derek!! We must train hard in magic today! Why are you wasting time on such nonsense!”

Denise stood up abruptly, sweating profusely. It was the first time she had volunteered to start magic training.

Her usual leisurely demeanor was gone, and she was pacing nervously, drenched in sweat.

“…”

All the servants watching held their breath.

Denise was thought to be tough, but Derek was even more relentless.