The Nerd Next Door Turned Out To Be The Magic Tower Master - Chapter 43

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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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Chapter 43
I couldn’t fathom why the princess had bothered sending an invitation in the first place, nor why she’d sought me out now.
If this shallow provocation was all she’d come for, I found myself disappointed on her behalf.
When Cecilia replied coldly, the princess blinked as though taken aback.
“……Do they not teach courtesy in the South—how to read who you’re addressing?”
“Here, the only one a Saint need bow to is God himself, not some lesser station. Do they not teach that in the imperial palace?”
“……Is she really a Saint? Her temperament is no joke—isn’t she more like a Saint’s Proxy?”
Forgetting to shield her mouth with her fan, the princess stared in disbelief, jabbing her lady-in-waiting’s elbow repeatedly as she interrogated her.
‘Well, I haven’t received formal approval yet, so technically I’m not a true Saint.’
But the same held for her. She hadn’t been publicly declared Successor either.
Moreover, as Lien had told me, the Pope’s authority differed not at all from that of an Emperor, which meant a Saint’s standing was no different from that of a Crown Prince.
In other words, there was no obligation to treat someone with courtesy when they approached without it.
The princess seemed aware of this fact herself.
Rather than the tantrum I’d expected, she fixed me with a gaze of keen fascination.
“Well, if my manner offended you, I apologize. I’ve been curious since long ago—just how compassionate a person is a Saint?”
“Now you know. Saints are merely ordinary people. Perfectly capable of cursing those who lack manners.”
I was already on edge, uncertain who might pose a threat to my life, and here was a prime suspect showing up to provoke me—there was no reason for civility.
Yet despite my obvious sarcasm, the princess seemed unbothered, merely shrugging.
“So it seems. I regret having been inadvertently rude. When I heard a Saint had come to the Monastery, I simply couldn’t contain my curiosity.”
“It appears you’ve had your fill of sightseeing. Perhaps I should take my leave?”
I felt sorry for the staff, caught in the crossfire and looking helpless, and besides, I had no desire to remain a spectacle any longer.
Before the princess could respond, Cecilia spun sharply on her heel and addressed Lien, who’d been tugging his Robe’s hood down over his face with increasing urgency.
“Lien, I’m sorry you went to the trouble of bringing me here, but I think we should leave for today.”
“……Lien?”
It wasn’t Cecilia or Melanie who’d repeated the name—it was the princess herself.
The princess swallowed a hollow laugh, looking far more startled than she had when Cecilia answered her.
‘Are they acquainted?’
Lien had long resided in the Monastery as the head of the Magic Tower, so they likely crossed paths at official functions. If so, they would naturally be familiar with each other.
Yet I couldn’t understand why he was so desperate to conceal his face.
“That’s quite the unexpected pairing. A Saint and ‘that’ Lien together…….”
As the princess murmured with pointed significance, Lien flinched as though stabbed.
If the princess knew Lien’s identity, then it would indeed be startling that the head of the Magic Tower stood alongside the center of the Temple. But wasn’t it said that the Magic Tower maintained a formal Neutrality?
‘Was there truly reason to be so flustered?’
Yet the princess said nothing more to Lien, simply concluding her one-sided conversation.
“It was well worth the visit, in any case. Until next time, then.”
What their relationship was, and what words she’d swallowed—these questions left me unsettled as she waved her hand in casual farewell.
‘Until next time, she said.’
Against my desire never to cross paths with her again, it seemed an unavoidable certainty—a galling thought.
* * *
Whether the Dress’s fitting progressed slowly or my heart simply wasn’t in it, time marched forward relentlessly until the Banquet loomed mere days away.
And now Cecilia faced yet another problem.
‘Who should I bring as a partner?’
Had I been in Weberdine, I’d have brought Nox without hesitation. But this was the Monastery, and unfortunately, Nox and my other relatives were not at hand.
Yet asking Lien felt……
Regardless of his mannerisms, Lien held noble standing in the Monastery and thus was qualified, but he was the head of the Magic Tower. If he attended without wearing his Robe, the moment we entered together would cause an uproar incomparably greater than what the princess had stirred.
And if such rumors reached Weberdine, my father might simply collapse where he stood.
‘It seems Miguel is my only option.’
Cecilia, who’d been sprawled against the back of her chair gazing at the ceiling, suddenly sat upright.
Miguel, who usually took the afternoon watch duties, was most likely at the Training Grounds.
But when I found him, he was in the Garden of the Estate, clearing flowers grown knee-high, his dirt-covered hands hastily concealed.
“My lady Saint? What brings you here…….”
“What are you doing tending the garden?”
“Ah, our gardener fell from a ladder recently while pruning the hedges. It’s somewhat embarrassing, but gardening happens to be a hobby of mine, so I’ve been helping with the simpler tasks.”
The steely vice-captain who brought judgment upon all wickedness was engaged in garden work.
It was a pairing I hadn’t envisioned, yet it suited him remarkably well.
‘Standing among the flowers, he becomes rather flower-like himself.’
As I watched the man among the diligently blooming roses, Miguel tilted his head slightly, as was his habit.
“In any case, what brings you to this place?”
“Ah, I went to the Training Grounds, but they told me you were here. I was looking for you.”
“For me? Ah, you’re planning to go out?”
“No, actually I have a favor to ask. Would it be possible for you to escort me to the banquet?”
“……What?”
Miguel dropped the gardening shears. The sharp blades pierced the ground right beside his foot, yet he stood frozen, unaware of the danger.
‘Is it really such a shocking request?’
Cecilia smiled sheepishly and hurried to explain.
“It’s just that I have no father or older brother here, so there’s no one else to ask. Is it too much of an imposition?”
“Not at all!”
Miguel cried out urgently, wiping his soiled hands carelessly on his white shirt before dropping to one knee before her.
“It would be my honor to accept such a privilege.”
As any knight would do for a lady, Miguel took hold of her fingertips with care. Then he brought his lips gently to the back of her hand.
Cecilia, accustomed only to the austere greetings of clergy until now, trembled slightly at the gesture.
‘I never thought I’d experience something I’d only read about in books.’
Her neck felt warm.
But the moment was brief.
A soft sound.
An unfamiliar presence had appeared nearby.
Lien stood in the center of the garden, staring at them both with vacant eyes.
‘Why is Lien here? And how long has he been watching?’
She couldn’t bear to meet his violet gaze, trembling like that of someone wounded.
But before Cecilia could respond, Lien closed the distance between them with long, purposeful strides.
He pulled her hand from Miguel’s grip and scrubbed the back of it roughly with his shirttail.
Even then, dissatisfied, he bit at his lower lip.
“This won’t do. We need to go to the Healing Room. There should be disinfectant there…….”
Lien muttered in a hollow voice and tried to lead her away.
But her body wouldn’t move. His other hand had seized her opposite wrist.
Miguel, usually placid or gentle, had gone rigid with an unfamiliar coldness.
“To seize the Saint’s hand so roughly is an offense I cannot tolerate. Release her at once.”
At the heavy warning, Lien turned slowly.
His face, shadowed and dark, was deeply sinister. His gaze, coldly settled, looked as though it could bury a man alive.
“Don’t interfere.”
This time—this time at least—he would not yield.
His voice, rambling incoherently, had grown eerie enough that Cecilia finally felt compelled to intervene.
“Miguel, I’m fine. I’ll have a word with Lien and be back shortly.”
“The Duke may have assigned him to you, but his station is unclear. I cannot trust him.”
His words were fair. Lien was a liar, his identity still unknown, difficult to trust.
Yet…….
“Lien won’t hurt me.”
The words spilled from her lips unbidden, and she was startled by her own certainty.
‘Did I want to believe that he won’t harm me?’
In any case, there was a witness—the vice-captain of the Holy Knights—standing here in broad daylight, so she doubted he would openly strangle her.
“Saint, even so…….”
“I’ll speak with him somewhere nearby. Then you can rest assured, yes?”
When the Saint remained unmoved, Miguel finally released his grip.
Now only Lien remained.
Though it was her hand that had been seized, Cecilia took the lead, drawing him toward the far end of the garden.
‘At this distance, he shouldn’t be able to hear our conversation.’

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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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