Since Aiselin had been a prominent figure in aristocratic circles, she had witnessed the rise and fall of many noble families.
So had plotted rebellions, broken the unwritten rules among nobles, or exploited their servants beyond the limit, driving them to death… In such cases, they accumulated too many wrongdoings and ultimately faced justice.
Others simply failed to adapt to changing tis or were cornered to extres in managing their territories, which led to a natural decline.
As their fortunes crumbled, Aiselin had seen many fallen noblewon end up in miserable circumstances. From her observations, those who managed to survive and retain so influence shared certain traits.
First, they were resolute. Second, they didn’t succumb easily to despair. Third, they had practical skills.
Aiselin already possessed so of these values and attitudes. What she lacked were practical skills—that is, the ability to manage day-to-day life.
The number of servants had drastically decreased, and there were barely any external personnel like squires or knights remaining, so she had to handle many tasks on her own.
Since the mansion was half-destroyed, most of the remaining workforce was focused on restoration work, aning she often had to take care of personal hygiene and als by herself.
In short, she had to cook, sew, clean the surroundings, and do the shopping on her own… she had to take charge of all the tasks needed to move forward.
While she rolled up her sleeves and personally took care of each task, she sotis wondered if this was really okay… but such thoughts rely passed through her mind.
“This is… kind of fun…”
“What?”
It had been about a month since the mansion was destroyed.
Within the still-drafty ruins of the building, Diella, who was eating roasted turkey with so seasoning, looked at her with a strange expression.
“Aiselin… sister?”
“Oh, no… It’s just that… with everything so difficult and so many people suffering, maybe I shouldn’t be thinking this way, but…”
At that ti, Leigh and Miriela were still unconscious.
The servants lived in constant worry over the mansion’s future, and the condition of the two noblewon was a source of ongoing concern. In that gloomy atmosphere, Aiselin fidgeted with her hands, uncomfortable at having said sothing inappropriate, and quickly lowered her gaze.
“I had never cooked for myself before. Or sewn… I’d never even just stared up at the evening sky because I had free ti… I had never done any of those things alone…”
“R-really? I thought you were pretty capable, Aiselin.”
“Sure, I learned a lot under the pretense of a lady’s education, but those weren’t practical skills. I know how to embroider a beautiful peacock, but I don’t know how to patch a torn skirt. I know how to make refined desserts, but… I never learned how to roast tough at to make it tender.”
“Well, maybe so, but…”
“Diella, don’t misunderstand… This might sound weird…”
Aiselin continued speaking as she sliced the low-quality turkey.
Despite the simplicity of the dish, her movents still carried elegance, creating a striking contrast.
“Going to the noisy market to haggle over ingredients, scrubbing dusty windows until they shine, washing rugs until they’re spotless… I think I enjoy those things… When I see all the dirt co off completely, I feel a strange satisfaction, a kind of euphoria… Is that weird?”
‘Maybe I’ve lost my mind,’ she thought silently.
In truth, a person’s temperant can reveal itself in unexpected ways.
Just as Diella, a wild prodigy mage, had been born into the Duplain family known for their disciplined approach to magic, there were many cases where the environnt one was born into didn’t match their true nature.
Aiselin had been the most noble lady in Ebelstein’s social circle. Everyone saw her as the purest flower blooming in the finest garden.
She herself had believed for a long ti that this was her role. But as circumstances changed, she discovered parts of herself she never imagined existed.
“Today’s turkey isn’t the best quality, but I used spices from the Alderete region, so it turned out better than expected, right? I marinated it this morning, and it seems to have absorbed the seasoning well. Next ti I’ll try to get more pepper. I bet the servants would like it too.”
“Hmm… No matter how much I wash the sheets, the old stains won’t co out… Soaking them for a long ti doesn’t seem to help… When Katarina returns from Ebelstein with supplies, I’ll ask her about it…”
“I found so brooms in the basent, and they’re surprisingly good, you know? The bristles are soft yet firm—not a speck of dust escapes. They’re top quality. Why would they have left sothing so good down there? I’d love to know which workshop made them…”
Unknowingly, Aiselin was always seen with her sleeves rolled up when not in public.
One day she was helping the maids carry old sheets in the mansion’s restoration. Another day she was up in the mountains testing whether certain plants were edible.
She even tried going to the construction site with a shovel, but a maid stopped her, thinking that was going too far. Helping with chores was one thing, but a noble lady doing manual labor was considered crossing the line.
That’s when Diella realized sothing. There was a side of her sister that even she hadn’t known. Aiselin had been born to be a homaker.
Nearly two months had passed since the mansion’s destruction.
“Aiselin! What are you doing!?”
“Diella! You better not co too close! One, two!”
Diella had just returned from Ebelstein, where she’d gone to gather information on the local situation in preparation for returning to the Rose Salon.
Behind the still-restoring mansion, the furrows Aiselin had dug in the field were perfectly aligned. She was no longer wearing a dress, but a light skirt and blouse, wiping sweat from her neck with a cloth.
Her face, though makeup-free, was still beautiful. But with her hair tightly tied and soaked in sweat, she looked like a true laborer.
When Aiselin set down the heavy wooden bucket, it was filled with reddish-brown soil. A foul sll filled the air, and Diella took a step back.
“W-what is that?”
“Fertilizer. Mixing the mansion’s manure with fallen leaves and sawdust from the construction work makes a pretty good compost.”
“You’re… thinking of farming?”
“I think we need so degree of self-sufficiency, so I prepared a field. What do you think? The servants opposed it at first, so it took so ti… but not bad, right?”
Standing in front of the fertilizer pile, Aiselin had a very serious expression, evaluating how to distribute it.
“For crops… I think it’s better to buy grain and plant vegetables for cooking. The servants will have to take care of it when I’m not here, so I hope it’s not too much work… It’d be ideal if it were pest-resistant…”
“Where did you learn all this?”
“I studied the mansion’s books. And when I did territory inspections, I more or less observed what the farrs were doing… Let’s see, we should plant turnips, radishes, onions, and cabbages…”
At this point, the servants no longer tried to stop her.
When Diella looked at the servants busy with restoration work, they all lowered their heads in embarrassnt.
“And tomatoes too… We can use them in salads… What else could we plant…?”
Aiselin’s eyes sparkled. There was no doubt that she was truly enjoying herself.
People always say the extraordinary have sothing eccentric about them… but no one expected her eccentricity would take this path.
Diella was so stunned she couldn’t even close her mouth.
*
The fall of the Duplain family beca one of the main talking points within the Rose Salon. It was inevitable.
The strongest pillar among the three—Duplain, Belmierd, and Beltus—had crumbled.
This didn’t just an the weakening of the Salon’s influence; it also created new opportunity.
The Belmierd and Beltus families couldn’t absorb Ebelstein’s entire power structure on their own. Inevitably, gaps would appear in the void left by Duplain.
So saw this great upheaval as a chance for social ascent; others viewed it as a signal to protect the status they’d already gained.
Amid the tense atmosphere of the Rose Salon, rumors began circulating that the young Duplain won would attend the gatherings again.
“Oh my… I’ve heard the fallen Miss Duplain—the one who dared to cross a line—wants to return to the Rose Salon.”
“Life is fleeting. Miss Aiselin was beautiful, noble, and kind… Who would’ve imagined she’d fall like this?”
“If she really hit rock bottom, she’d better stay away from the salon. But if she’s got nowhere else to go, maybe she’s seeking refuge with us. Pitiful, in a way.”
“At least Miss Aiselin inspires pity. But Miss Diella got what she deserved. She thought herself superior and treated Miss Denise poorly. So this is her couppance.”
There are always those who take a small pleasure in another’s misfortune.
As Ellen walked along the salon corridor, she spotted so ladies whispering gossip and approached them with purpose.
“Lady Rovent… weren’t you practically one of Miss Aiselin’s supporters? How quickly you turned your back.”
“W-what? Ugh… L-Lady Ellen…”
“No matter how much you flit about like a bat, do you think many people say good things about you, Lady Rovent? You should take a look in the mirror.”
Rovent stared impassively. Ellen, barely acknowledging her, turned on her heel and entered the Salon. She was exhausted after pulling an all-nighter preparing for today’s lecture on magical philosophy.
It was expected that the Duplains would be defad. Once soone is in the mud, they’re the first target of gossip.
Though she despised such social cruelty, Ellen was on edge that day and perhaps spoke out more than was wise. Best to avoid making enemies, yet she’d done exactly that.
She sighed downcastly as she stepped into the lecture hall.
“Oh, Lady Ellen! So long—it’s wonderful to see you again.”
‘…?’
Aiselin looked much healthier, her expression far more vibrant.
At first, Ellen thought it was an act, but after exchanging a few words, she realized it wasn’t. Aiselin was not one to hide her emotions.
“I’m so glad to be back in Ebelstein after all this ti. I’ve been so busy lately that just enjoying the countryside ride in the carriage felt lovely.”
“I’m glad to see you well, Lady Aiselin.”
“Well, aside from being alive, I feel like a corpse! I have to stay standing.”
Though she wore a pretty dress, it was unadorned and understated. Few accessories, no fresh flowers in her hair.
Yet she looked at Ellen with bright eyes and said:
“Thank you so much for not blaming us for the great disaster at the Duplain mansion. Because of your intervention, many important families also didn’t bla Belmierd. Most still make demands, but the burden has been greatly reduced.”
“Don’t worry. I just did what I thought was right.”
“Still, the Duplain family owes you deeply. I’ll never forget this debt.”
“It’s not necessary. You must have a lot on your mind these days, so if you need help, please tell . I’ll do what I can.”
“…So, may I make a bold request?”
“…Eh?”
It was a courteous lead-in—but Aiselin seized the mont like a spirit. She sounded more determined than ever.
“I don’t have much funds available right now, so I’m selling the mansion’s artworks and magical items at bargain prices. But as you know, many are highly valuable and not selling quickly. It’s a big problem.”
“Ah, yes?”
“So I’m doing direct sales myself. It could be great for you, Lady Ellen. You won’t find these renowned pieces or magical items at these prices elsewhere. I spent all night compiling a catalog—would you like to see it?”
Ellen stepped back, overwheld by Aiselin’s energy.
The old Aiselin radiated untouchable nobility. Now she exuded a ghostly determination.
“The Odelton grimoire is only 300 gold coins. The Drest Academy would faint in outrage. Also, I have a collection of sculptures by the Northern master Theon for just 100 coins. If you buy the whole collection, I’ll give a 30% discount. Will you let an opportunity like this pass?”
“…”
“And look here, and here too… There are staffs I had reserved for myself, and magical items that once belonged to forr high-ranking officials. The prices are insane, right? Missing this opportunity would be madness. A lot of people are interested in these items… If you don’t buy them now, you’ll definitely be thinking about them tonight when you’re at ho.”
“…Hoo.”
It wasn’t empty talk—there really were fine items. They were Duplain property, after all, so quality was expected.
Ellen almost gave in, poring over the catalog, until she shook her head.
“Ah… Is it really all right to sell these items?”
“And is now the ti to be picky? Better than letting the servants starve. Art won’t fill stomachs, will it?”
“…”
Ellen, recalling Aiselin’s forr elegance and dignified discussions, was thrown off balance.
“Look at this too—this portrait by Count Antras is under 100 coins. I know deep discounts offend the artist’s intent, but given our situation, we have no choice.”
“And have you been selling these things to other ladies as well?”
“Of course. Sales are going well. When Lady Denise arrives, I plan to show her the catalog too. If you don’t claim sothing now, soone else will.”
Aiselin squeezed her hands with intensity.
“This could be the best chance to sell!”
“Please calm down, Lady Aiselin. You can’t conduct business from the Elfontaine Salon, can you?”
“That’s why I scoped it out from the hallway. They don’t prohibit ‘artistic exchanges’ between ladies. This qualifies as one.”
“Well… if you say so…”
Creak.
Soone entered. Aiselin straightened her dress and looked up—more like a salesperson spotting a custor than soone greeting a friend.
“Oh, Lady Denise! Long ti no see!”
She rushed forward, catalog in hand.
Denise appeared, well-dressed but weary. Aiselin froze at the sight of the man accompanying her, face flushing as she hurriedly gathered her wares from the table.
“Miss Aiselin. You look healthy.”
“Yes. Lady Denise, as always, you look gorgeous! Could you spare
a mont? I have a catalog and the prices are quite reasonable, so…”
Just like with Ellen, she was determined to speak enthusiastically and boost her sales with Denise.
But just as she was about to begin her sales pitch in earnest, she saw the man who had accompanied Denise… and was left speechless. As if she had seen sothing she shouldn’t have, her face turned red and she hurried to put away all the items she had laid out on the table.
“Miss Aiselin. You look well.”
“Dereck!? What are you doing at the Elfontaine Salon…?”
“This afternoon, the royal magical advisor wanted to see , so I’m accompanying Miss Denise while we’re in the noble district.”
“R-really?”
Ellen felt a flutter of discomfort at Aiselin’s reaction.
Typically composed, Aiselin was suddenly nervous before Dereck—eyes downcast, shifting uncomfortably.
Like a wild animal in front of its natural predator, she looked down and turned restlessly at Dereck.
“What are those docunts?”
“Oh… these… Are so items I wanted to show Miss Denise…”
“Its nothing terribly important. I was just surprised to see Dereck here, so I ntioned it.”
“Huh? It’s not odd to bring a servant or soone from ho to the Elfontaine Salon, right?”
“Lady Denise is correct, but… I was curious. How have you been, Derek?”
“Fine. As always.”
“R-really…?”
Aiselin trailed off. Normally able to slip around such monts, but this ti, she couldn’t.
In truth, Aiselin had been feeling drawn to Derek for so ti.
From the day he visited rcenary guilds to find a ntor for Diella, to coming to the Duplain mansion, teaching other young ladies, even trying to receive training directly—she had hoped he would beco her ntor.
Now, with her family’s fallen status and Derek’s inflated value, that wish was impossible. She had to let it go.
But her feelings for Derek only deepened. Every ti their eyes t, mories of him tending her blood in the rain at the Duplain mansion returned.
Her cheeks heated, and she could barely look him in the eye.
“D-Dereck…!”
“Yes?”
When Aiselin suddenly said his na, Dereck responded naturally.
“You’re incredible!”
“What…?”
“I an… that the royal magical advisor sought you out personally ans the royal family wants to reward you for what you did at the Duplain mansion, right? You could receive valuable magical items—or with luck, even a magical weapon…!”
“That I’d be recognized for my deeds is an honor, but… from what I heard, it might not just be about celebration. They say Sir lverot from the North is searching for …”
“R-really? If it’s Sir lverot, it must be important…”
“…?”
Startled by her own words, Aiselin covered her mouth, whispering an apology under her breath.
She rarely slipped this way in speech, so Denise and Ellen narrowed their eyes.
“…”
“…?”
A strange silence followed, heavy and uncomfortable. Aiselin still covered her mouth, eyes flickering.
Ellen looked confused, while Denise—a writer of romantic novels—understood imdiately what her reaction ant.
In no ti, Denise’s face stiffened, and she began to break out in a cold sweat.
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