My Husband Is Not the Magic Tower Master - Chapter 23

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Episode 23

We arrived at the Stein Mansion in less than half a day—a journey that normally took a full day’s travel.
It was thanks to the Magic Tower sending us a Magic Scroll that let Returners skip the intermediate route for their peace of mind.
As a bonus, my week-long vacation was extended by two more days.
I’d let my guard down thinking I could finally rest, but it didn’t take long before a bewildering scene unfolded.
“Ahem, hem!”
The moment I stepped out of the carriage, my parents exhaled a grave breath in Carlo’s direction.
“Tell me, our Rosé’s distinguished colleague—do you have any separate vacation plans?”
“…I have no prior engagements.”
“Well, how fortuitous.”
Oh, please.
My parents each seized one of Carlo’s hands, their eyes gleaming with unmistakable fervor while I stood behind them in despair.
“You’re not married yet, then?”
“And no one you’re courting either?”
“…Yes? I mean, no. In that regard as well….”
With both his hands now firmly in their grasp, Carlo turned toward me with an awkward creak, but there was nothing I could do to help him.
“Ha.”
I should never have gotten into that carriage.
It was too late to undo it now. He’d already won their favor some time ago.
“Mother.”
“He’s your work colleague—what does that matter! He saved your life, didn’t he? As your parents, we must show our gratitude.”
“Father.”
“Mmm-hmm. And you said you got an extended vacation.”
Our daughter’s benefactor!
And such a remarkably handsome one too!
Listening to their scheming murmurs that followed, I squeezed my eyes shut.
“Don’t move. Just stay as you are.”
When we returned, Carlo had lost his Glasses in the process.
“It’s muddy water, but you’d be embarrassed to be soaked like this.”
In that urgent moment, as he lifted me into his arms and brushed away the wet strands of hair from my face….
I was honestly startled.
‘I hadn’t realized.’
Just how handsome he truly was.
* * *
The unexpected guest’s arrival made the dinner table far noisier than usual.
The Stein Mansion, already known for lavish hospitality, descended into unprecedented chaos with Carlo’s presence.
Well, I’d never brought a man home in my entire life before.
‘Have I really been living like a nun all this time?’
A certain “lady who knew nothing but her bed” had invited a male colleague to dinner.
“He’s a colleague.”
“But he’s a gentleman.”
“Just a different gender, that’s all.”
“And he’s quite tall, and so handsome!”
No, that’s not it at all.
Sad as it was, from the head chef desperate to flaunt his culinary skills to the servants who practically danced as they carried dishes—everyone was moving with such intensity.
They all seemed to be putting their hearts and souls into every motion.
I could only stare at the endless stream of dishes rising from the table with a look of resignation.
For just one guest, the food was overwhelming.
“When is this ever going to end?”
“Wait and see. The main course hasn’t even come out yet.”
Wow. That really is remarkable.
‘Yet whenever I work late and come home, they can barely be bothered to serve me a bowl of soup.’
Of course, I often missed meals by sleeping past noon.
But this—the contrast is just too stark.
I gave the toe of the shoe belonging to the man sitting rigidly across from me, stiff as stone, a sharp little jab.
At that, his damp black hair stirred slightly in the air.
“Be honest with me. This is awkward for you, isn’t it?”
“…If I’m being truthful, I find it rather pleasant. I’ve never received such lavish treatment before.”
“Really? You don’t seem like it at all.”
I could easily picture him being summoned to a royal ball tomorrow and downing a glass of wine dusted with gold leaf without batting an eye.

When I tilted my head at his transparent lie, Carlo deftly avoided my gaze.
After arriving at the mansion, he’d showered quickly in the guest room and changed into a spare Shirt he’d brought, and this was him emerging afterward.
Though it was supposed to be a vacation, the stiff collar had apparently bothered him as much as usual—a couple of buttons lay undone at his throat.
That sight inevitably conjured up my first date with the male lead.
‘Like friend, like friend, I suppose. Our taste in clothes is identical.’
I recalled how the blonde-haired protagonist of this world, contrary to all expectation, had bungled his Shirt in some theatrical bid to watch a commoner’s play.
It had been utterly baffling at the time.
Back then, Lucas had seemed to overlap with Carlo, but now I found Lucas faintly surfacing in Carlo’s image.
It wasn’t because I’d grown fonder of Lucas.
It was merely strange to discover that friends could share tastes and temperaments.
Looking at them this way, the two of them seemed to give off oddly similar vibes.
‘Maybe it’s just my type.’
I actually preferred loose-fitting clothes to impeccable suits.
What I’m trying to say is: right now, Carlo didn’t look half bad to my eyes.
Compared to the rigid posture he held while tense, there was the languid looseness of his undone Shirt and the damp, settled quality of his hair.
And the fact that he’d washed with water scented by Stein Mansion’s signature Silverbell Flower Perfume—the same fragrance I used—now rose from him identically.
To be honest, it might be me who found this situation uncomfortable.
‘Don’t make eye contact anymore.’
My heart aches a little.
His destructive beauty was detrimental to rational judgment.
Of all things, Carlo’s true identity turned out to be a man with refined features hidden behind those damned wire-rimmed Glasses—and precisely my type at that.
But none of that changed my situation.
No, no, it mustn’t.
‘Smile.’
Smile. After all, I’d managed to secure nine whole days of paid Leave.
I was the victor in the end. So I ought to enjoy myself with a glass of wine.
“Carlo, could you pass me a glass?”
“I’ll pour it for you.”
“…What? No, you don’t have to go to the trouble.”
“It’s no trouble. I do it because I wish to.”
“Then, please.”
With nothing else to say, I merely laid my hand on the glass he offered.
It was the devastating moment when my clear victory transformed into subtle defeat.
Carlo picked up Champagne—lower proof—instead of Red Wine from among the bottles the servant had brought.
“Wait….”
What are you doing?
I wanted to drink wine.
Red Wine with a high enough alcohol content to scald my throat, leave it raw and burning!
As my eyes widened in bewilderment, my parents, who had just brought the final appetizer themselves, spoke up.
“Carlo, our Rosé actually prefers Red Wine to Champagne, you know?”
Mom, you’re a lifesaver.
“Daughter, has your taste in spirits changed?”
“No. It’s the same as always.”
So put down that glass and switch the alcohol now.
Just as I reached my hand toward Carlo urgently—
“I’m aware. However….”
“Mm?”
“However?”
Faced with successive questions, he gave a small, embarrassed cough.
“When you’re intoxicated, you tend to make mistakes.”
“…Me?”
“It would be better for you to drink something with lower proof.”
I appreciate the advice, but when exactly have I ever made a mistake?
I rolled my eyes frantically.
Sifting through my memories, there were so many things that nagged at me—I couldn’t quite pinpoint where the mistakes and problems had started.
‘Was it my first day at the Magic Tower, when I downed a bottle of wine at the 80th Floor’s welcome dinner and got carried back to my quarters by Carlo?’
Or was it when I poured wine into a water bottle and drank it like water, then collapsed and fell asleep on the floor, only to be found by him in the lab the next morning?
‘Surely not.’
That had to be it.
Three months into my time at the Magic Tower—an unforgettable dark chapter of my past.
Rather than become a bound spirit in the Magic Tower, I’d joked once while drunk that it would be faster to be reborn and possess Dionysus himself—and that was the night I’d wandered the halls searching for a dump truck that didn’t exist.
Then there was the night I climbed over the wall at the Magic Tower’s entrance, and someone grabbed me by the scruff of the neck and hurled me directly to the 88th Floor.
“Huh.”
…Was that Carlo?
As I stared at him in bewilderment, he continued.
“While Miss Rosé certainly enjoys wine, it seems she may not hold it particularly well.”
“Oh ho ho. Isn’t that the truth?”
“Ha ha ha. You know her so well!”
While I withered in my seat, my parents’ eyes lit up with unmistakable delight.
I’d only just learned that Carlo had this honest side to him.
My glass was promptly filled to the brim with champagne, its bubbles glistening white and effervescent.
The meal’s atmosphere grew warmer still.
“Please, eat as much as you’d like.”
“Fill yourself, and if you’d be kind enough to take our daughter for an evening stroll afterward, that would be even better!”
Mother and Father spoke with shameless intention.
It seemed they were determined to match me with another man, fiancé or not.
“You don’t love the Crown Prince, do you, Rosé.”
Since I was nineteen, they’d already known who I was.

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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