There Are No Bad Young Ladies in the World

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The atmosphere in the office of Grand Duke Beltus was eerie.

When Denise opened the door and entered the office, the characteristic gloom had already settled on the floor.

Grand Duke Beltus, who was listening to various reports from his eldest son, Robenalt, and the head butler, Alex, glanced at the open door and showed a benevolent smile.

“You’ve come, Denise. You must have had a hard time traveling all the way to the Ravenclaw estate.”

The smile was so warm and cozy that anyone who didn’t know better might think they were a family with a gentle atmosphere like Duplain or Belmiard.

However, the expressions of Robenalt and Alex, who were watching Beltus’s smile, were somewhat stiff. Having spent countless years with Grand Duke Beltus, the two knew well that they should not take the old fox’s expression at face value.

Of course, Denise was no different.

She let her dress hem down and bowed her head calmly in greeting.

“Thank you for the warm welcome, Father.”

“Of course, I should welcome you. Denise, you are the smartest, quickest, and most capable person in all matters in our Beltus. Moreover, you are my beloved daughter, so it seems I am blessed with a good child.”

“You flatter me.”

Even though it might have felt awkward for Robenalt, the eldest son, to see Denise being praised as the best, no one voiced any opinions.

Robenalt himself knew. He was inherently weak and lacked grand ambition, so he could not become the head of the family.

Although he was sitting in the position of successor simply because he was the eldest son, he was ready to accept the reality that he would eventually hand over the position to Denise.

However, Denise had no desire for family power. On the contrary, she actively acknowledged Robenalt’s right of succession.

“Brother Robenalt. It’s been a while.”

“Yes.”

Robenalt answered quietly, lowering his gaze.

Denise took a deep breath.

The Grand Duke sitting nobly at the office desk, stroking his arm, was a fox stained with a lust for power.

To him, the southwestern continent was nothing more than a giant chessboard, and all the humans under the name of Beltus were merely chess pieces moving according to his taste.

In a grand game, pieces that do not move as he wishes are unnecessary. No, beyond being unnecessary, if not quickly removed, they might one day thrust a knife at his throat.

Purge is essential, and justification is a matter of creation… Grand Duke Beltus was a man who knew how to use even his family for power.

He was completely different from Grand Duke Duplain, who was strong but cared for his family, or the benevolent and hearty Marquis Belmiard.

However, he also loved his family.

There is no better justification to bind someone than the bond of family.

“Denise. I have high expectations for you. And you have always met those expectations. You have always contributed to the Beltus family at crucial moments in the Ebelstein social circle.”

“…”

“My beloved daughter, Denise. This inadequate father is always indebted to you.”

And then, under the pretext of family, they ensnare Denise like a spider’s web, using her as a convenient chess piece.

Denise has no words to refute.

This grand mansion, the luxurious lifestyle, the respectful gazes from everyone—all of these stem from the prestige of the Beltus family.

Therefore, betrayal is not permitted.

A fleeting connection, a teacher from the slums with whom she has built a bond, turning her gaze away from the great family’s prestige for such a reason is foolish. It’s a matter of intelligence, not right or wrong.

Moreover, Derek himself has confirmed it several times.

If you want to betray, then betray. He already knows Denise’s circumstances well. Betraying Beltus recklessly would be too precarious given her position and status, so do your best to stab him in the back.

How magnanimous he is. His kindness cannot be taken for granted.

Denise is the most cunning, perceptive, and always makes the right choices within the Beltus family. Even if she makes somewhat inefficient choices, she never makes foolish choices that harm herself.

“As you commanded, I visited the Ravenclaw estate. As it is a newly established estate, there were many rough edges, and the organizational structure was not very systematic. It makes sense. They must have had too much to worry about setting up something like the Ravenclaw Training Center.”

Therefore, Denise steadied her breath and spoke.

“──However, in the important aspects, Baron Ravenclaw has handled things neatly. The military system is efficiently organized, public security is thoroughly managed, and they seem to have some measures in place for natural disasters… At this point, there didn’t seem to be any noticeable gaps to exploit.”

Denise said this and paused for a moment.

She must not show any signs of tension. If even a single drop of cold sweat appeared, that cunning fox would immediately sense something was amiss.

As always, she maintained a relaxed tone, as if she were merely reporting what needed to be reported.

In Denise’s eyes, the Ravenclaw estate was full of gaps that could be greatly shaken by even small schemes. It couldn’t be helped. No matter how thorough Baron Ravenclaw was, he couldn’t perfectly manage a newly established estate.

She thought of more than ten tricks she could use. Whether it was misleading the public, causing a man-made disaster under the guise of a natural one, or fabricating incidents… There were countless schemes to undermine his authority and significantly weaken his power.

──Nevertheless, Denise remained silent.

It was the most foolish choice she had made since entering society.

How could she let the scales tip towards a mere baron from the slums, abandoning Beltus, who held real power and supported her?

A fleeting connection. A teacher who once taught her magic. That’s all he was.

On the other hand, Duke Beltus was a cold-blooded man who would mercilessly cut down any chess piece that dared to wield a sword against its master.

‘……’

A foolish and stupid choice. Why did she do such a thing?

She tried to add some logical explanation to what she had just done, but Denise couldn’t easily come up with a reason.

Derek Lydof Ravenclaw was just a petty noble from a remote countryside.

However, he was diligent, dedicated to his training despite his humble beginnings, striving to achieve something, harboring great ambitions, working hard, producing results, and moving upwards.

That’s all he was.

Nevertheless, what was the reason she couldn’t turn her back on him?

– “Miss Denise, you are a much more valuable person than you think.”

A dusty underground art storage.

To Denise, who was living a life of being used and exploited, the indifferent man’s words pierced her heart deeply.

“Is that so.”

Denise muttered to herself, lowering her gaze.

Unlike herself, who was swayed under the name of Beltus, that man tried to break free from his given fate without any hesitation.

What was pressing down on Denise was merely the Beltus family, but what was pressing down on that man was the immense weight of lineage and aristocracy.

Seeing that man breaking free from it without hesitation, Denise might have been unknowingly influenced.

A teacher conveys knowledge, but a mentor conveys the value of life.

Without even realizing it, Denise had been learning about life from Derek.

So?

Does that justify defending Derek?

Once taught, that’s it. After reflecting on the good things learned, one should just do what needs to be done.

Nevertheless, why does she want to side with that insignificant power holder from the bottom class?

That man, who is just living earnestly and diligently, can’t be more valuable than the Beltus family, can he?

A mere moment of connection. How valuable could that be?

The most trusted daughter of the great Beltus family. Why should she jeopardize the authority that position holds?

＜ At those words, Sir Robain shed tears and said repeatedly. ＞

＜ I love you, Tracy. You were the only meaning left in my dull life. It wasn’t because I couldn’t overcome the family’s will or the gap in status that I let you go. ＞

Suddenly, the lines she had written with her quill pierced her heart.

The girl’s pupils trembled for a moment.

Sir Robain is just a character in the story.

However, whether she liked it or not, characters in a story often represent the will of the one holding the quill.

Sir Robain, who ultimately let go of his beloved Tracy, bound by the constraints of nobility, and wandered in the shackles of status, making the wrong choice.

As he struggled in regret, someone overlapped with his image.

It was Denise herself.

In “Arrogant Sir Robain,” without even realizing it, Denise might have reflected her own appeal against the chains of the Beltus family that had pressed her down for so long.

And, on a moonlit night.

A white-haired mercenary quietly reading the book might have eventually closed it and looked up at the moon outside the window, thinking.

You might have noticed right away, while reading those passages, where Denis’s self-deprecating attitude towards life originated from.

Therefore, Denis might have read those phrases, which even he himself didn’t take seriously, word by word.

Therefore, unlike Denis, who was endlessly ashamed of his own creations, you might have taken these phrases seriously.

Therefore, you might have allowed Denis to betray you.

Therefore, his back might have looked relieved without any regrets or resentment.

All of this was collapsing like dominoes, causing waves in Denis’s heart.

Having come this far, he couldn’t betray Derek. Even if Derek himself said it was okay, even if he said it was fine to be antagonized by Velthus’s will. Such things meant nothing.

This was not Velthus’s choice, but Denis’s own choice.

Therefore, it was time to deal with the aftermath of the choice.

“So, I think I need a little more time. To come up with the most certain way to crush Ravenclaw’s territory, I need to take some time to find some gaps…”

“Is that so.”

Denis tried to make sure there were no repercussions, but Velthus cut her off.

At this point, Denis already felt a sense of incongruity. Denis tried not to show any signs, but some emotional turmoil that came in the middle created a gap in her.

And Velthus was a person who didn’t miss such trivial gaps.

“Father?”

At some point, Velthus was no longer smiling warmly and familiarly.

Butler Alex and eldest son Rovenalt already had their expressions completely hardened. They had noticed something unusual.

When Denis looked up at Velthus’s expression, he was wearing an icy cold expression.

*

“You’re thinking of attacking Velthus.”

Baroness Peline, who was lying in the VIP room, unable to overcome her hangover.

Derek, who visited her early in the morning, threw a few snacks that were good for relieving hangovers and sat on the table in the corner.

“Ugh… Ugh…”

“…”

“What are you talking about… Ugh… Hangover…”

“Did you drink again yesterday?”

“Even though it’s a rural noble house, the environment is really good. There’s a lot of alcohol that you can’t even see in the slums or tavern streets…”

“Are those the drinks that came as gifts to the frontier nobles… Did you drink them all?”

“Anyway, Derek doesn’t really enjoy drinking. Someone like me who knows the taste of alcohol should drink it, so the alcohol would be happier.”

Peline lifted her face, still marked with saliva, and sat on the bed, brushing her disheveled hair.

Yawning with a sigh. Her clothes were so disheveled that a stranger would be embarrassed, but neither Felinne nor Derek cared at all.

The two had lived like stones, ignoring each other, for several years now.

“By the way, attacking Beltus. Even I, who feel disillusioned with the world of nobles, have heard the name of the Beltus family a few times. Aren’t they the ones who do whatever they want, living grandly?”

“Yes. I’m thinking of attacking them.”

“Well, I’m sure you have your reasons for what you do, Derek. But why are you telling me this?”

“I want some help from you and the Veldern Mercenary Corps.”

Felinne burped and pressed her temples to soothe her headache.

“Ugh… What? Our help?”

“Don’t you want to?”

“Do I look like a woman who would refuse the chance to legally beat up nobles?”

“I knew you would say that.”

Felinne smiled broadly and asked Derek for confirmation.

“What are you planning to do?”

“I’m going to openly attack the Beltus territory. The military power of the Ravenclaw Barony is weak, so I’m thinking of gathering reinforcements from here and there. The Veldern Mercenary Corps is one of them.”

“Well, as long as you pay Uncle Jayden well, he’ll help us in every way. But will there be other forces willing to oppose a successful family like Beltus?”

“I’m thinking of getting some support from Belmiard and forming an alliance with the Renouel Viscount family.”

“Wow. You’re going bigger than I thought. But, you know… I don’t know much about what nobles do, but don’t you need a reason or justification to beat up nobles?”

A sharp point. But Derek had surely thought of such things.

“We’ll frame them. We’ll create enough justification to unite the nobles and go beat up Beltus.”

“Well, Derek, you handle that. The important thing is the ‘real reason.’ Why do you suddenly want to beat up Beltus, who is just minding their own business?”

Not the public justification, but the real reason for Derek’s actions.

Felinne’s words were raw and unrefined, but they often had a sharp edge.

Because she had lived her entire life on the battlefield, thinking only in practical terms.

“If I stay still, Beltus will beat me up.”

So Derek spoke in Felinne’s way.

“The Beltus family hasn’t done anything particularly wrong at this point.”

They had ambushed Felinne, but it had failed, and there was no physical evidence left.

Nevertheless, it couldn’t be taken lightly. It was only natural.

“They probably don’t hold a personal grudge against me, and even if they are planning something, nothing has been publicly revealed yet. Their public attitude is also gentlemanly. They maintain their dignity, and their family tradition is relatively sound.”

“…”

“But, Pellin. You know well, I don’t just stand still and wait for someone to beat me up.”

Derek, still sitting, spoke with a cold gaze.

Pellin’s expression was ambiguous, making it hard to gauge her feelings.

“I don’t know about the ways of the nobles, but those who have rolled around in the mercenary world know well. How foolish it is to just wait until the opponent strikes your neck. The one who swings the sword first has the advantage, and the one who draws the bowstring first wins.”

“…”

“I have no intention of just offering my neck because the seemingly innocent opponent hasn’t made any move yet. The only reason I’m striking Beltus is because of that. …Is it hard to understand?”

It is an act of openly launching a preemptive attack on someone who hasn’t even revealed their true colors yet.

It is a choice that lies somewhere between evil and self-defense.

How should one evaluate Derek’s actions?

If it were the rigid nobles who value justification, they might try to stop Derek, calling it a rash action.

“No? It’s too good? It’s perfect.”

However, Pellin was laughing so hard that her lips seemed to reach her ears.

That was the kind of woman Pellin was.