There Are No Bad Young Ladies in the World

Magic (5)

“The Arrogant Lord Robein” is a story about a girl named Tracy, who, after a troubled childhood, drifts into a ducal house in search of work and becomes entangled with a nobleman named Lord Robein.

Lord Robein, being a fictional character, lacks a bit of realism. If anything, he is close to an embodiment of the ideal man.

Broad-shouldered, with sharp eyes, every one of his actions is antiquated, always carrying roses, and he is a character both gentlemanly and aristocratic.

When working, he is always cool-headed and rational, but towards his woman, he is warm, enjoying baths in tubs with floating rose petals, drinking wine while viewing the night scenery, and for reasons unknown, he prefers deeply cut clothes at the chest, and if he fancies a woman, he would stroke his chin and smile suggestively, yet despite such impudent behavior, the women whose chins he grasped would blush.

Especially when it came to the female protagonist Tracy, the usually cool-headed man often became somewhat emotional.

He would corner her against the wall and whisper (usually nothing of great importance), or needlessly stroke her hair, trying to guess the scent of the incense she used that day… Acts that, if not for the handsome Lord Robein but a common man, would have led to immediate arrest.

On a quiet afternoon, Derek was reading the writings penned by Denise’s elegant hand, occasionally tilting his head in thought.

At first, there were parts that were somewhat embarrassing, but as he read on, he found a narrative and reflection that made it interesting. Even Derek, who was no expert, was drawn in at once, which clearly showed the content was written with serious intent.

As the family secret was revealed, and trials came upon the love between Lord Robein and Tracy, eventually, even casting aside his authority, the image of Lord Robein running through the storm calling Tracy’s name felt sublime.

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Finally, the two reunited in the storm, embracing tightly, entering a log cabin nearby in the rain (why there was a log cabin in the front yard of the noble family’s mansion remained a mystery), drying their clothes, and sitting beside a drenched Tracy who had caught a cold, eventually watching her talk in her sleep by the fireplace.

Watching Tracy sleep-talk about her departed family, Lord Robein covered her with a blanket, sorting through his complex thoughts. The last scene depicted the lonely back of Lord Robein, who had lived his life without ever feeling familial love… and then the story was cut off.

“Perhaps it’s because the setting of Lord Robein’s family history wasn’t fully established… It was really an interesting scene…”

“…”

“Indeed, I can see why even the maids of the mansion were secretly avid readers. Miss Denise, your writing is genuinely skillful.”

“Enough… I was wrong… Just… I’m sorry for everything… Let’s stop this now….”

It was after the day’s work had ended, and before returning to his quarters, he had stopped by Denise’s room.

Denise lay sprawled on the bed, as if her body ached all over.

She had put all her effort into training at Derek’s request today, so much so that she looked pitiable rather than commendable, and Bella, with tears in her eyes, was massaging her shoulders.

“…”

Derek wore a complex expression.

Seeing Miss Denise suddenly take her lessons so seriously, it seemed as if she was ashamed of her embarrassing creations, and Derek was wielding that shame over her as a hostage.

There was a bit of a misunderstanding there. As Derek had repeatedly said, he genuinely thought Denise’s writing was good.

Of course, he wasn’t oblivious to the burning shame, but from Derek’s typically indifferent perspective, was it really something to make such a fuss about?

Regrettably, Derek was too rational to fully embrace the sensitivity of a girl going through a tempestuous time.

Therefore, he tried to convey sincerely what aspects of Denise’s work impressed him and what he liked, but that only seemed to kill Denise a second time.

The victim lay on the bed as if slain, but the malicious perpetrator was nowhere to be found.

That paradox made Denise wish for death even more.

It had been about ten days since Derek began teaching magic when Lady Ellente sent a separate letter, bringing fine tea to visit the mansion.

Unlike the encounters at the Roséa Salon, coming directly to this mansion held significant meaning.

As a lady of the Belmierd family, she couldn’t casually make private appointments due to her status, so even such trivial meetings required a pretext.

Though it was passed off as a meeting to foster goodwill between families, no one knew the political implications such a minor encounter might carry. Naturally, the servants were somewhat tense.

But in reality, Ellente was merely curious about how Derek and Denis were getting along.

‘It may seem too bold… but it’s better than just pacing around.’

Lady Denis was not someone who could be easily taught, even with empty words.

She was always a mysterious figure, quick to guard her boundaries if anyone tried to cross the lines she had set for herself.

At the Roséa Salon, she would always laugh elegantly and engage in polite conversation, but all of it was out of obligation. Ellente had long noticed Denis’s naturally graceful demeanor.

There was a clear difference between her and someone like Ellente, who was open about everything that mattered.

Derek might be having quite a hard time. If he’s currently considering that he doesn’t quite fit with the Beltus family, Ellente was thinking of proposing a good condition.

‘But that would be difficult without the approval of His Grace, the Duke of Beltus.’

Nevertheless, not for espionage but for fostering camaraderie, Ellente hurried on her way.

Her first thought was to probe the inscrutable Lady Denis.

“…Thanks to Lady Ellente’s visit, I can finally take a break…”

However, the Lady Denis who appeared in the reception room looked so haggard that one might wonder if she was the same person from the Roséa Salon.

To say she looked haggard might not be quite right. She seemed merely tired, her figure had become more slender, and her movements more brisk, as if she had been engaging in outdoor activities or intensive exercise in that short period.

But her expression was out of sync with her body. Despite the beautiful makeup and lovely accessories enhancing her beauty, the underlying fatigue was palpable.

The servants and maids had rushed to dress her up as best they could, but this was the best they could manage.

“…You look very tired. Lady Denis, you’ve been relentless with your magic training.”

“…Yes, yes… That’s right. That magic tutor Derek is quite enthusiastic.”

After all, it was a visit from a distinguished guest of the Roséa Salon.

Lady Denis managed to muster her most beautiful smile, struggling to maintain her usual appearance.

“I had high expectations for someone rumored to be an excellent magic teacher… but the method is a bit different from what I imagined. It’s physically demanding… and… there seems to be some emotional pressure too…”

Denis, who never trailed off in her elegant manner, now wore a complex expression.

Seeing that, Ellente suddenly remembered the time when Derek was teaching her.

– ‘From now on, it’s real hell.’

“Eek.”

In an instant, a shiver of fear crept up Ellante’s spine.

As with many things in the world, they often seem insignificant in hindsight. The painful memories evaporate and disappear, leaving only the joyful moments and achievements in one’s recollection.

Yet, memories of Derrick’s thrilling presence during their runs, his relentless magic manifestation until exhaustion, and his dedication to magic theory even at the expense of sleep, all came flooding back.

Even upon reflection, it was a sight that made one involuntarily swallow dryly. Derrick was the most stubborn magic teacher she had ever encountered.

At that moment, Ellante’s eyes met with Denise’s.

Denise seemed to have caught on to what Ellante was thinking just by looking at her expression.

Ellante thought to herself,

In the Ebelstein social circles, it was common for ladies sharing the same mentor to form factions or establish connections. After all, every single connection was a weapon, and those who could find common ground would naturally band together.

‘Perhaps, instead of being a member of the Roséa Salon, forming a relationship as someone taught by the same mentor could be an option? But would that create a faction…? I’m not sure how others would perceive it…’

‘But… surely, if we unite, we could forge relationships in a different way from the Roséa Salon… The culture there requires too much face-saving, which has its uncomfortable aspects…’

On the other hand, Lady Denise, having set down her teacup, was lost in entirely different thoughts.

‘It seems Lady Ellante has also suffered under that mentor Derrick… It feels like a gathering of victims, which is quite complicated…’

Denise had closely observed Lady Ellante’s gradual decline since accepting Derrick as her mentor. Regrettably, it was no longer someone else’s concern.

However, it wasn’t entirely devoid of hope.

Denise quickly discerned the reason behind Ellante’s peculiar visit to the mansion. It was clear she was assessing Derrick’s condition to gauge Denise’s reaction.

In essence, the Belmiard family had not yet given up on taking Derrick away. It was indeed welcome news.

Denise wanted to get rid of this magic teacher as soon as possible. But once purchased, he was a product with no returns.

Regardless of the Duke of Beltus’s intentions, Derrick himself was determined to make Denise a great magician.

With plenty of noble ladies in the Ebelstein social sphere to teach, and even Aiselin eager to learn from him, why did he have to cause such trouble for Denise?

For Denise, who was unaware of Derrick’s desire to maintain ties with the three major families, it was maddening. Derrick’s maniacal approach to teaching magic had moved beyond disillusionment to awe and wonder.

If it weren’t for his ability to socialize, it wouldn’t matter, but he mingled well with the servants and had seamlessly integrated into the mansion, becoming a socialized monster.

‘Ugh… my head is starting to hurt again…’

Yet, to other ladies, Denise’s concerns might seem like the worries of the well-fed. That was the worst part.

Neither Aiselin nor Ellante understood why they were so desperate to bring this magic teacher Derrick into their families.

Could it be that such upstanding noble ladies enjoyed torturing themselves?

Watching Ellante carefully, Denise couldn’t help but think how vast the world was.

“By the way, how is Lady Aiselin? I feel I’ve been somewhat neglectful of my duties at the Roséa Salon due to my magic training. I’ve only attended the important events and haven’t properly greeted everyone… I hope she isn’t too upset.”

Denise quickly shifted the topic of conversation.

She needed to ponder more on how to deal with Derrick and was uncertain how to respond to Ellante’s attitude.

“Lady Aiselin has returned to her family home. She has to attend her brothers’ deployment ceremony and has agreed to help with her sister’s debutante ball. It’s best to have someone experienced to assist, after all.”

“If it’s about your sister’s debutante ball… Is Miss Diela coming to Ebelstein?”

“Yes. From what I’ve heard… her magical achievements are said to be far greater than the rumors suggested.”

Aiselin’s sister, who had entered the realm of two-star magic, was a born member of the Duplain family.

If another figure like Aiselin were to appear, it would be nothing short of a seismic shift in Ebelstein’s social circles.

“They say she’ll come to stamp her face at the next meeting… If you attend the regular gathering, you might get to meet her. I’m a bit nervous myself since it’ll be my first time seeing her.”

The next meeting was just the following week.

‘Do I have to worry about the social hierarchy now too…? Ugh… my head hurts…’

Denis wanted nothing more than to lie down right then. However, once Ellente left, he would have to throw himself back into the hellish training schedule.

It was a sad truth, but conversing with Ellente right now was Denis’s only respite.

Derek, as always, would be waiting downstairs in the reception room, having finished his training preparations, a satisfied smile on his face.

Slowly, his face began to look devilish.

*

“Miss Diela. Here are the documents for the Roséa Salon meeting. It’s next week.”

The Duplain family’s annex.

Diela’s private room was impressively spacious, yet sparsely furnished. On one side of the room, easels with various landscape paintings were irregularly arranged, and on the frilly lace bed lay scattered an assortment of magic books.

In the center, a blonde girl quietly gazed at the ceiling, deftly wielding her magic—a wild mage born into a noble family.

Her abundant, wavy golden hair enveloped the doll-like figure, and the frills of her usual dress covered her knees like a blanket.

Sitting still, her eyes surveying the openly displayed magic, already bore an extraordinary air.

Her accomplishments were incomparable to when Derek taught her. She had fully mastered the basic theories of wild magic, and most one-star spells had become trivial to her.

While her appearance remained unchanged, her pace of magical improvement was such that she would outstrip anyone, Derek included.

“Roséa Salon? Why there all of a sudden?”

The girl was already walking the path of a master.

Hearing the butler’s report in a listless voice, she eventually looked down with cold eyes and said,

“Why should I enter there?”

The girl had almost all the qualifications to make a name for herself in Ebelstein’s social circles, but she had no interest in such games of honor.

She was born of the most noble blood, yet she was someone who refused to be easily bound by any rules or systems.

A consistent trait among geniuses with extraordinary talents.