Chapter 136: What Lifted Me Up
Joseph was the private magic tutor hired by Marquis Hugo and the Marchioness for Aracila’s education. A mage affiliated with the Mage Tower, he had mentioned Aracila’s exceptional talent to Philip on several occasions. Intrigued, Philip decided to meet her when he had business at the Academy.
“Ho ho ho, I’d love to see your talent in action. Would that be possible?” Philip asked, his eyes twinkling with curiosity.
“What’s in it for me?” Aracila replied, her tone bold but playful.
“You could join the Mage Tower,” he said simply.
Aracila’s eyes sparkled. She had already set her sights on joining the Mage Tower after graduating from the Academy. If she could impress Philip and secure a direct invitation, it would be an unparalleled opportunity.
“You’ve got an impressive amount of innate mana, a keen magical intuition, and—most remarkably—the ability to wield your mana freely at such a young age,” Philip said, genuinely astonished. “Joseph was right—you’re extraordinary.”
“Joseph’s been singing my praises, hasn’t he?” Aracila asked, a hint of pride in her voice.
“Oh, yes,” Philip chuckled. “He told me you’d join the Mage Tower someday. Though I doubt even he expected it to happen this soon.”
Philip was more than impressed by Aracila’s talent—he was captivated. It wasn’t just about bringing her into the Mage Tower; he felt a rare urge to mentor her himself. Before becoming the Master of the Mage Tower, Philip had been passionate about nurturing disciples, finding joy in helping young talents blossom. But the demands of his position had made it difficult to take on more than a handful of direct apprentices, and he had grown cautious about it. Now, nearing retirement, he wondered if taking Aracila as his final disciple might be worthwhile.
“I’d like to take you as my apprentice,” he said warmly. “Ho ho, what do you think?”
“I’m in,” Aracila replied confidently. “I’m going to be the Master of the Mage Tower someday.”
Her boldness delighted Philip, making him even fonder of her.
As Aracila matured, her dreams grew more defined. She no longer simply aspired to be a great mage—she wanted to become the first female Master of the Mage Tower. The reason was straightforward: in the empire, the highest position a mage could attain was the Master of the Mage Tower. Like anyone, Aracila yearned to achieve unparalleled success in what she loved most.
Under Philip’s tutelage, Aracila underwent rigorous training. Joseph had taught her only basic, safe spells, so this was her first taste of true, intensive instruction.
“Aracila, is it too tough for you?” Philip asked one day, watching her struggle.
“I feel like I’m dying, Master,” she groaned, sprawled on the floor, utterly exhausted.
“Ho ho, complaining already? If this is too much, what use are you?” he teased.
“Then why’d you ask if I was struggling?” she retorted, her voice laced with mock indignation.
Philip chuckled softly. “I was worried you might want to give up.”
“Give up? Never,” Aracila said firmly, her eyes blazing with determination. “I’ve been chasing this dream since I was a kid. And I’m going to prove everyone who mocked me wrong.”
She vividly remembered the scornful laughter of those who had ridiculed her declaration to become the Master of the Mage Tower. Aracila was determined to show them—show the world—how she would achieve her dream. She also wanted to repay the unwavering support of those who believed in her. Their faith had been the solid ground beneath her feet.
But…
The world had more people who doubted her than believed in her. Even some of those who had once supported her turned their backs after this incident. Expelled from the Mage Tower without warning, Aracila was gripped by a profound sense of doubt. Had she been chasing an impossible dream? Had she wasted her life on a delusion?
She began to question whether she was truly capable of breaking the Mage Tower’s prejudices and becoming its first female master. A gaping hole opened in her heart, once filled with ambition and hope. As her belief in herself wavered, she struggled to find her balance.
“Maybe this path was never meant for me,” she whispered to herself.
Self-doubt crept into the cracks of her once-unshakable confidence, eroding her spirit. For the first time in her life, Aracila felt defenseless against these emotions, overwhelmed by a tide she couldn’t stem.
“Maybe this is where my journey ends…”
Unable to escape the doubts she turned on herself, Aracila withdrew, locking the door to her room as if sealing her heart. She lost track of how many days she had spent like this, lying in bed, staring blankly at the ceiling with hollow eyes.
A soft knock broke the silence. “Audrey, my head’s all muddled. Can you come by later?” Aracila murmured weakly, her voice heavy with exhaustion. She assumed it was Audrey, the only person who still checked on her regularly.
Knock, knock, knock.
“…?”
Something was off. Normally, Audrey would have responded by now, but there was only silence. Another knock followed, then the sound of retreating footsteps.
Puzzled, Aracila stared at the door for a moment before dragging her weary body out of bed. She realized the second knock was an invitation to check outside. With a creak, she opened the door a crack and spotted a small box on the floor. What’s this? She picked it up, her expression a mix of confusion and curiosity.
Opening the elegantly wrapped box tied with a sapphire-blue ribbon, Aracila found a sword-shaped pendant adorned with diamonds.
“This…”
She recognized the design instantly—it was an exact replica of Damian’s sword. There was no mistaking it; it had been crafted in its likeness. Beneath the pendant lay a folded note card. Aracila pulled it out and opened it. The message, written on a palm-sized piece of paper in Damian’s distinctive, meticulous handwriting, was brief:
“You are the first mage I’ve ever acknowledged.”
A sudden gift, a sudden note. Aracila let out a wry chuckle, muttering to herself, “Seriously? Is this his way of telling me to hold my head high or something…?”
Despite her grumbling tone, her voice trembled faintly at the edges.
She knew what it meant for a knight to gift a sword to another—it was a gesture of absolute trust, as if entrusting them with their very life. Damian had placed that trust not in Aracila the wife, but in Aracila the mage. He could have given it to her as his spouse; that would have been simpler, easier for him. Yet…
Aracila’s grip tightened on the note card. Damian had seen through her. He understood that the Aracila who needed belief and support right now wasn’t the wife, but the mage.
The gaping hole in her heart, one she thought could never be filled, was mended by Damian’s gesture. In an instant, it pulled her out of the depths of despair.
“Hah, honestly…” she murmured, a spark returning to her voice. “I can’t help it when the great Commander of the Red Hawk Knights says I’m the first mage he’s ever acknowledged.”
A glint of life flickered in her once-dull blue eyes. Her full lips curved into a smooth, determined arc, and her slumped posture straightened with renewed resolve.
No, I can’t just collapse like this.
No matter what others said, she would carve her own path and walk toward whatever end awaited her.
Aracila took the pendant from the box and fastened it around her neck. Then she rang the bell to summon someone.
The chime echoed through her room for the first time in days, and the sound of hurried footsteps followed. Audrey burst in, breathless.
“M-My lady! You called for me?!”
“Yes, Audrey,” Aracila said with a bright smile. “Could you prepare some food? I’ll need some strength if I’m going to start thinking clearly again.”
Her eyes sparkled like stars, brimming with vitality. Audrey clapped a hand over her mouth, nodding eagerly.
My lady’s back!
The joyous echo of that thought reverberated endlessly in Audrey’s heart.
* * *
The first thing Aracila did after rising from her slump was to gather information about the scandal. She had already learned from Audrey that Damian was handling the lamp incident. That left her to uncover the truth behind the scandal tainting her reputation.
Who’s the scoundrel spreading these lies?
She needed to understand how the scandal had started and why. Her friendship with Frederick wasn’t new, so there had to be a reason it was only now erupting into gossip.
Realizing she couldn’t dig into it alone, Aracila turned to her family for help.
“Mom, Dad, Iris—can you help me? I need to find out why this scandal with Frederick came up.”
“Of course, sweetheart,” the Marchioness said warmly. “Your father and I are always ready to step in for our daughter.”
“Same here, Ari,” Iris added. “I’m going to find out who dared to tarnish your name.”
Her family welcomed her request, already a step ahead. Even before her call, they had begun preparing. Iris was tracking down the source of the rumors circulating in high society, while Marquis Hugo and the Marchioness had uncovered dirt on the owner of the newspaper that first published the scandal.
Armed with the leverage her parents provided, Aracila marched to the newspaper’s office.
“We’re not here for pleasantries, so I’ll cut to the chase,” she said, her voice sharp. “I hear your son’s been dabbling in illegal drugs lately. Should I report him to the authorities?”
The newspaper owner’s face turned ashen. He had poured everything into raising his only son, but the boy had gone astray. If word got out that he was involved with banned substances, he’d face prison, and the entire family would be dragged through public disgrace. For the sake of his son, himself, and his household, he had to prevent that at all costs.
“No, please, Lady Vandermir!” he pleaded, dropping to the floor in a desperate bow. “I’ll do anything you ask, just spare us!”
Aracila gestured for him to stand. He hesitated before sitting across from her, his expression fraught with anxiety. She fixed him with a steady gaze and asked, “Why did you publish that scandal about me and Frederick?”
“Well… we received a tip that you two were… involved,” he stammered.
“Who gave you the tip?”
The owner hesitated, his lips sealed. But when Aracila shook her head and made a move to leave, he blurted out, “White! It came from someone in the White Marquisate!”
“…Hah.”
Aracila let out a scoff, her breath laced with exasperation as soon as that tiresome name came up. The White family had already tried to frame her once before, only to have their scheme backfire. Yet here they were, undeterred, scheming again.
Later, Iris, who had been tracking the source of the high society rumors, returned with the same name. “The ringleader is the White heiress,” she reported. “She’s been stirring people up, making sure the scandal stays alive.”
“Of course her so-called ‘remorse’ was a lie,” Aracila muttered, her voice dripping with disdain.
Still, she hadn’t expected them to come at her with such ferocity the moment she re-entered the fray—and to drag Crown Prince Frederick into it, no less. The audacity was staggering.
Aracila fell into deep thought, her brow furrowed. She had identified the informant behind the scandal and the instigator of the rumors, but something about it didn’t sit right.
Even if they desperately want to see me ruined, they wouldn’t be reckless enough to target Frederick… would they?
This was on a different level from their previous attempt to attack her by involving another nobleman. A misstep here could lead to charges of insulting the imperial family. It made no sense that the White family would risk their entire house’s survival to slander her out of mere spite, let alone drag the Crown Prince into it.
And why would the Marquis and Marchioness of White indulge their daughter’s childish vendetta instead of stopping her? Unless they’ve got someone powerful backing them, this is bizarre behavior.
They weren’t a family with the kind of influence wielded by the three great ducal houses. For them to undertake such a reckless move, they must have some assurance—perhaps a faction of royals or nobles looking to check Frederick’s power.
But I don’t have the time to investigate every single one of them right now…
Aracila’s lips curled into a sly, determined smile as she devised the quickest way to uncover who was conspiring with the White family.
* * *
Lately, Nora’s routine had been straightforward.
She attended one to three parties a day, dropping provocative comments to keep Aracila’s scandal alive. She mostly mingled with families tied to her own or the Leicester ducal house, but occasionally, young ladies with no prior connection to her would extend invitations. They were eager to hear juicy gossip from Nora, who was known to have a contentious relationship with the scandal’s central figure, Aracila.
The more people love to gossip, the better for me, Nora thought with a smirk, sifting through the latest batch of invitations. But then, something caught her eye, and she froze.
A flicker of surprise crossed her otherwise indifferent face.
…Lady Harriet invited me?
Lady Harriet was a prominent figure among the young noblewomen who followed the Grand Duchess Keystone. That she would send Nora an invitation was unexpected.
Harriet was well-connected and influential among her peers, so building a relationship with her could only be advantageous. The problem was that Aracila was also part of the Grand Duchess’s circle.
Nora vividly remembered how Aracila had once used the Grand Duchess’s influence to corner her. Hesitant, she decided to send a polite refusal. But then another letter arrived, its contents catching her completely off guard:
“I, too, want to know the true face of Lady Vandermir. I believe we could have an honest conversation, Lady White. Please, do come.”
─── ･ ｡ﾟ✧: *. ꕥ .* :✧ﾟ. ───
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