Chapter 151

Chapter 151
## Chapter 151

Although a cup of tea with a strong aroma of rosemary leaves sat before her, Trisha didn’t have the slightest intention of bringing it to her lips.

Seeing that man sitting across from her made her want to drink cold water in a single gulp instead of a tea of excellent quality.

However, she could not display such rude behavior, so she restrained herself, though she couldn’t prevent an expression of exhaustion from escaping her.

Just by looking at him, she felt as if she had aged ten years.

“I knew Lady Trisha didn’t exactly consider me a comfortable person.”

Dereck was the first to take the initiative.

Without elaborate greetings or ice-breaking phrases, he simply spoke as he was, with his arms crossed.

Even nobles with a respectable title treated a distinguished young lady like Trisha with extreme delicacy upon meeting her, but this man showed not a trace of such caution.

It wasn’t that people like him didn’t exist; rural nobles from the outskirts often spoke with such frankness. But Trisha didn’t like that style very much.

Still, no matter how arrogant or capricious she might be, Trisha was the daughter of an important noble family.

She had at least the minimum training in etiquette and conversation, so responding even to someone like Dereck was natural for her.

“Of course, I cannot say I feel completely comfortable. Lately, your name has acquired too much notoriety… how could I treat you with indifference? Lord Ravenclaw’s influence is such that…”

For Trisha to speak of “treating someone with comfort” had a meaning: she usually showed contempt toward those she considered inferior.

When she found someone weak, she crushed them without hesitation to place herself above them.

Arrogant and authoritarian to the core. Dereck had already seen this side of Trisha several times.

And from Trisha’s perspective, feigning modesty before someone to whom she had already shown her worst facets also seemed somewhat absurd.

If she was going to be exposed anyway, she preferred to speak frankly.

“…Fine. I will admit what I must admit. Baron Ravenclaw is not someone I can take lightly.”

Although Dereck’s title was limited to that of a Baron, his influence in Ebelstein society was something no one could ignore.

He had even restored the lost dignity of the Duplain family, whom everyone believed was doomed to disappear.

Political power was not something he lacked.

Sure, so what?

Even so, Trisha remained the only daughter of Count Renuel.

Even if Dereck was at the peak of his career, she had enough status to keep her head held high.

She would not be intimidated. With that thought, Trisha straightened up and let out a chuckle.

“You may consider it a great honor. I, Trisha, do not usually recognize anyone easily. I hope Lord Ravenclaw appreciates it as it deserves.”

“Yes. Much appreciated.”

“Ugh…”

But Dereck never let himself be dragged into Trisha’s rhythm.

When someone spoke to him like that, they usually reacted with anger or lowered their head.

But he showed no emotion.

And that made Trisha feel like a child acting out in front of an adult.

In the end, it was she who ended up frowning and sighing.

“Every time I see you, I feel like Baron Ravenclaw doesn’t care much about me.”

“If Lady Trisha already feels burdened because of me, what can I do?”

“Well… you’re not wrong… haha…”

Trisha let her shoulders drop and sighed deeply.

Then, looking at the hand holding her feather-decorated fan, she murmured with a voice that was fading away.

“I’ll tell you directly.”

In that brief exchange, she had understood something.

In front of a man so impenetrable, speaking indirectly or trying to manipulate him psychologically was completely useless.

He was a mercenary who had always lived in the practical world; he was immune to those subtleties.

So, all that was left was to speak clearly.

“I want to become Lord Dereck’s disciple.”

It was a very risky bet for Trisha.

She pushed the cup aside, set down the fan, took off her gloves, and tossed them onto the table. Then, she squeezed her knees tightly.

Dereck, who was about to take a sip of the rosemary tea, looked up slightly, surprised.

It seemed he didn’t expect her to retract her posture so much.

“Are you interested in magic?”

“No. I don’t have a special talent, nor do I have great ambitions.”

“…Then why do you want to enter as a disciple?”

“Because by being Lord Dereck’s disciple, I can get closer to secular power.”

Too honest.

Normally, one would say something like “I want to become a great mage.”

But Trisha lowered her gaze and affirmed it with total seriousness.

That caught Dereck by surprise.

He didn’t expect Trisha to confess such a mundane motive so openly.

But that didn’t mean it was the right answer.

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Dereck only taught those who deserved to be taught.

Someone who did not seek knowledge but only power did not interest him in the slightest.

Even so, it was the only card Trisha had.

“…”

Trisha closed her eyes tightly.

The first person who came to mind was Aiselin, whose kindness, as vast as the sea, had managed to move her.

Before her, Trisha had broken down inside.

That was a true noble lady: elegant, refined, pure.

How could Trisha Lenuel even compare herself to the brilliance of a woman like Aiselin de Duplain?

The answer was impossible to utter.

Even Ellen, Count Belmierd’s wife, felt inferior to Aiselin.

Trisha felt envy toward Ellen.

Inferiority only arises between people of similar levels.

But before a flower so high that she couldn’t even imagine touching it, there was no inferiority, only longing.

“To be honest… I am an ambiguous person.”

In the tense atmosphere, Trisha confessed.

“…”

“In magic, I am better than common people, but not enough to stand out in studies. Regarding status, I am above certain minor nobles, but not high enough to compete with the true elite. I am… well, just like that. Ohoho.”

The atmosphere turned strange, so Trisha just laughed awkwardly.

“…”

However, Dereck did not burst out laughing or anything of the sort upon seeing Trisha in that state.

In any case, he was a man with whom one could not speak comfortably.

“That’s all.”

She murmured.

Trisha’s mother was Countess Rodelia, a heroine who had killed more dark mages than anyone else in the southwest of the continent.

Her father was Hutton, a top-tier merchant who had fled his rural home without a penny and had built a massive company on his own.

Trisha had lived her whole life between those two extraordinary beings, while she herself was nothing more than an ordinary person.

She had not been born with the elegant natural dignity of a noble daughter like Aiselin.

Nor did she possess leadership skills like Ellen.

She was not astute or calculating like Denise.

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Nor did she have a turbulent or dramatic past like Diella, with reasons for having strayed from the right path.

She had simply been born as a normal person in the heart of a great lineage, and after stumbling through life, she had reached this point.

In magic, studies, and authority, she had always stayed at an “acceptable” level.

Had she ever experienced a deep tragedy or a pain that forced her to rise from the abyss?

Not at all.

Had she ever governed others from above, imposing her absolute power?

Of course not.

And not just Trisha; that is how most people live.

She had never climbed the mountain peak, nor swum in the underground depths.

She lived her life just as it had been given to her, without great ups and downs. That could not be considered laziness or irresponsibility.

But unfortunately, around her, there were always extraordinary people who lived brilliant and colorful lives. Each of them showed their achievements to the world.

And in a world full of exceptional beings, a simple mortal could feel small.

That’s why, sometimes, she had to gather what she had and exaggerate it, raise her voice, and shout that she too had value.

—*Even if it seems like everyone is playing above your head, never let yourself be intimidated, Trisha.*—

The will that Hutton left before dying was deeply engraved in her heart.

During her childhood, she clung to those words, traveled the fields raising her voice, and thus reached the high society of Ebelstein.

And now, before the most renowned master of Ebelstein, Trisha spoke, shrinking slightly.

“Could someone like me… become your disciple?”

The question escaped her before she could think it through, and Trisha shuddered as she realized it. She felt she had said something absurd and searched for a way to fix it, when…

“Of course you can.”

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Before Trisha could retract her words, Dereck had already responded.

It was so unexpected that her eyes widened.

“I only teach those who have the merit to learn. I had never considered learning magic for mundane reasons, but if you think about it, it is quite natural.”

Dereck studied magic to obtain secular power.

Trisha was the opposite: she would study magic to elevate her status within the aristocracy.

If analyzed that way, it made sense.

“So why wouldn’t it be possible? Of course you can. As long as your determination is firm.”

Only then did Trisha feel she was beginning to understand that man.

He taught magic, but not to boast of power.

Precisely because of his purity, the disciples who wielded great influence bowed before him.

Perhaps that was why Dereck was considered the best magic master in Ebelstein: because he only cared about teaching magic, and nothing else.

Trisha let out a weak laugh and lowered her head.

“I didn’t expect you to say it so clearly.”

She felt as if she had shown the most sincere part of her heart, and it embarrassed her. But she couldn’t deny that she also felt relief.

If even someone so arrogant, vulgar, full of complexes, and without any exceptional talent compared to the other disciples—if even she, an insignificant noble of the House of Renuel, could be accepted…

Perhaps she could afford to let her guard down a little.

From that comfort, Trisha spoke in a low voice for the first time.

“Then… would you accept me as your disciple?”

“I refuse.”

“…”

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Not even a second passed before she was rejected.

***

Bang!

From inside the hall, a thump against the table was heard. Trisha, with tearful eyes, shouted with a voice full of indignation.

“Weren’t you going to accept me based on the course of the conversation?!”

“No, one thing is that, and another is quite different. They are different matters.”

The servants who remained silent to one side turned pale.

Countess Rodelia had ordered them to treat Baron Ravenclaw with the utmost courtesy.

But seeing Trisha complaining in that manner, not a trace of dignity remained.

It was a scene that made them break out in a cold sweat.

“After saying so many nice things, you rejected me so flatly! What am I supposed to be now? And I was smiling, thinking it would become a beautiful memory! Ugh… my… my back is burning…!”

“I publicly announced that I would only accept as a disciple someone recognized by Lady Diella. If I change my mind now as if nothing happened, what would become of Lady Diella?”

“It’s just… how am I supposed to earn the recognition of a savage like her? You know it better than anyone: that maniac has no intention of ever accepting any disciple.”

“I understand. I’ll go straight to the point.”

Dereck adopted a serious expression, interlaced his fingers, and leaned slightly forward.

Trisha swallowed nervously. She was about to hear how to earn the recognition of 그 beast named Diella.

“…It’s not my problem.”

“Aaagh!!”

Trisha grabbed her head and collapsed against the back of the chair.

“T-then… is there no other way? Is there something I can do to become your disciple… or to get Lady Diella’s attention… something…?!”

“Why would I know? Only Lady Diella knows.”

“Aaaah!”

Trisha let out a sound as if she were about to faint, exhaling sharply.

Dereck only watched her in silence.

There was nothing else he could do.

***

—*He only knows how to say “it can’t be done,” “it’s difficult”… And I’m dying here!*
—*What if you send her a gift? Lady Diella likes sweets.*

—*‘G’s gifts aren’t going to fix this… ugh…’*

—*You know it’s partly your fault, right?*

—*‘……’*

“Madam Countess… that…”

When Countess Rodelia returned after attending to an urgent matter, the servant standing in front of the door stammered with a pale face.

Despite the order to treat Baron Ravenclaw with the utmost courtesy, the conversation heard from inside was far from dignified.

The faithful servant tried to think of how to handle the situation, but could not find a solution.

“Pff.”

But Countess Rodelia, after listening for a moment by the door, let out a light laugh.

She gave the servant a reassuring pat on the shoulder and, without intending to enter the hall, signaled her legal advisor to follow her.

She seemed determined to return to her office without intervening at all.

“Let’s leave them a bit longer. Let’s also finish the army budget before returning.”

With her hands behind her back and humming, Countess Rodelia walked down the hallway to return.

The servants watched her leave with expressions of bewilderment.