Villainous Instructor at the Academy
Chapter 154: Noble Etiquette

Chapter 154: Noble Etiquette

By sunrise the next day, the Dorne estate had already begun to suffer.

The once dusty, silent halls now echoed with the sound of reckless footsteps, half-formed arguments, and at least one explosion that Wallace swore was "completely under control." Spoiler: it wasn’t.

I stood at the center of the inner courtyard, sipping tea from a cracked cup I’d "borrowed" from what used to be a display cabinet. Felix had already tried three times to get me to stop walking around like I owned the place. Naturally, I ignored him.

"Professor," Mira said as she emerged from the side hall, covered in dust and holding what looked like a cursed umbrella, "is this a magical artifact or just really ugly?"

"Does it whisper when you hold it?" I asked without looking up.

"Yes."

"Then yes. Cursed and ugly."

She nodded like that made perfect sense.

Meanwhile, Garrick was trying to fix a broken gate by... punching it repeatedly.

"Use your brain!" Wallace shouted from a nearby ladder, where he was attaching some sort of mechanical contraption to a lantern post. "You’re going to break your arm!"

"I am using my brain!" Garrick shouted back. "This is strategic force application!"

"In what world?!"

"A strong world!"

I clapped once, loud enough to silence the chaos for two seconds. "Children, please. Let’s not pretend we’re civilized."

Felix, poor soul, walked over with a stack of old, frayed documents in his arms and an expression that suggested he’d aged twenty years since yesterday. "I found the estate logs... They’re... incomplete. And mildly bloodstained. I think my uncle kept track of guests using tally marks and knife scores."

I glanced over. "That’s more organized than I expected from this place."

He sighed and sat beside me. "They’re all gone, you know. My older cousins, my uncle, even the old steward. The house hasn’t had a full staff in years."

"And yet," I said, swirling my tea like a noble villain, "you’re still here. Why?"

Felix didn’t answer immediately. His eyes lingered on a cracked window overlooking the muddy garden. "Because someone had to be."

That... was more honest than I was ready for before breakfast.

But before I could get sentimental, Leo came running across the courtyard.

"There’s a crypt!" he yelled. "A literal family crypt! With names! And curses! And a skull that told me to ’return on a moonless night’!"

I blinked. "Great. So we’re being haunted. Anyone else surprised?"

No one raised their hand.

"Cool. Welcome to House Dorne, home of emotionally repressed nobles and possible necromancy."

Felix facepalmed. "Please stop making it sound worse."

"Oh I’m not making it sound worse," I said with a grin. "I’m simply painting an accurate picture in bright, mocking colors."

Still, as the day wore on, something strange began to happen: Class C actually started trying.

Mira was cataloging artifacts. Wallace repaired a leaking pipe system using what looked like leftover potion bottles and duct tape. Garrick successfully (and terrifyingly) trained a pair of half-feral hounds in the garden. Even Leo—between panicking—organized the library’s salvageable books into stacks labeled Maybe Not Dangerous and Too Late Now.

Somehow, they were bringing life back into the place. Like a group of unqualified gremlins staging a one-act play called Redemption: Estate Edition.

Felix watched it all unfold with the kind of expression normally reserved for witnessing a minor miracle or a slow-motion carriage crash. "I don’t get it," he murmured. "Why are they even helping?"

I raised an eyebrow. "Because despite what they say, these idiots like you. And they’ll follow you into a haunted swamp of trauma and legacy rot if it means keeping you upright."

He looked down, rubbing his hands together. "Even when I’m useless?"

I gave his shoulder a firm pat. "You’re not useless, Felix. Just... dramatically inconvenient."

He snorted, then laughed—a real one this time.

"I hate you sometimes," he said.

"I know," I said. "It’s why I’m your favorite."

That night, as the sun dipped behind the twisted trees surrounding the estate, I looked out over the courtyard.

For once, the Dorne estate didn’t feel like a dying relic. It felt like a place still clinging to something stubborn and stupidly human.

Chaos. Family. Maybe even hope.

But mostly chaos.

And that was fine by me.

By morning, I found a note stabbed to my door with a fork.

It read: "The kitchen exploded again. Leo cried. Felix hyperventilated. Breakfast may be symbolic today."

—Mira.

I sipped my tea and sighed. A day in paradise.

After a very "symbolic" breakfast—burnt toast and something Wallace claimed was "experimental meat jam"—I decided it was time for education.

"Alright, you little disasters," I announced as I herded them into the front hall. "Today’s lesson: Noble Etiquette for the Terminally Unqualified."

Felix immediately raised a hand. "Isn’t that insulting to nobility?"

"You’re from House Dorne," I replied without missing a beat. "That ship sank generations ago."

He closed his mouth and sulked in silence.

I paced in front of them like a general addressing ill-equipped soldiers. "You’re going to be staying in a noble estate for the foreseeable future. You’ll probably meet some minor lords, maybe a ghost ancestor or two, and if the universe hates us enough, someone from House Alzareth will show up and try to ’reclaim ancestral debts’ using a ritual dagger and a passive-aggressive smile."

Leo whimpered.

Mira looked intrigued.

Wallace started jotting notes like this was the best day of his life.

"So," I continued, "you’re going to learn how to act like nobles."

"Even Garrick?" Leo asked.

Garrick looked up from oiling an axe. "What’s a salad fork?"

"That," I said, "is Lesson Four. Right after ’How Not to Murder a Dinner Guest.’"

"Too deep a bow and you look like a servant," I explained. "Too shallow and you look like a pompous ass. You want to strike the balance of ’I acknowledge your status, but I also know you’re probably plotting my death.’"

Mira nailed it instantly. Felix was decent. Leo looked like he was trying to sneeze mid-bow. Garrick just nodded like a brick wall with opinions.

Wallace tripped. Twice.

"The noble smile is not real," I said, demonstrating. "It’s a mask. A weapon. A lie that says, ’I will destroy you financially and emotionally, but gently.’"

They stared at me in silence.

"Why are your eyes dead when you do that?" Felix whispered.

"Because I’m a Drelmont," I answered. "It’s genetic."

I threw a stack of cue cards at them.

"Pick a card. Read the topic. Try not to embarrass yourselves."

Leo drew first. "Um... ’The Current State of Grain Tariffs in Southern Sūyara.’"

"Say that again but with less fear," I said.

"But I’m full of fear!"

Mira took her turn. "’The Role of Spirit Lore in Maritime Traditions of the Shanri Isles.’’" She smirked. "Finally, something fun."

Garrick picked a card, squinted at it, then said, "I don’t know what a ’runic marriage contract’ is, but it sounds illegal."

Wallace drew a card, read it, then looked up and whispered, "Professor, this one just says ’seduction duel.’"

"...Put that one back," I said. "That’s from my personal deck."

I brought out a table setting and watched them try to identify a salad fork.

Wallace tried to use a butter knife as a wand. Garrick used the soup spoon to test the temperature of his armor. Felix instinctively sat at the wrong head of the table. Mira tried to swap everyone’s goblets just to see who noticed.

Leo wept.

"Excellent," I said. "You’ve all failed gloriously. And yet, I’m still proud. That’s character development."

Felix groaned. "Can’t we just go back to monster hunting?"

"No. This is worse. And that’s what makes it important."

Because beneath all the jokes and dramatic lectures, I knew what was coming. This wasn’t just about manners. Dorne wasn’t going to stay quiet forever. Someone, somewhere, would take notice of Felix’s return.

When that happened, they’d need more than magic and muscle.

They’d need poise.

They’d need presence.

They’d need to look those pompous snakes in the eye and smile like nobles—while planning how to burn their houses down.

And as their wonderfully corrupt instructor, I’d make sure they knew how.

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