The Nerd Next Door Turned Out To Be The Magic Tower Master - Chapter 69

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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 69
Cecilia read through the Pope’s letter one more time, each sentence still tender and kind. Only after confirming she hadn’t missed a single word did she fold it neatly and place it in a drawer.
News of another ritual opening was dreadful, certainly—but even if the Pope hadn’t summoned her, she’d planned to visit the Temple within the week regardless.
One of the reasons she’d worked so hard to become a proper Saint was precisely to gain access to the Record of God.
Cecilia reached out and tapped the white flower perched alone in a long-necked vase with the tip of her finger.
She still couldn’t understand the mechanism, but the Flower of God had proven itself real. If that were true, then the Record of God kept in the Temple’s vault likely possessed some special property as well.
‘Whether it will show me a way home, I cannot say.’
Unless a god appeared before her one day out of thin air, this was the only path she could attempt.
‘I’ll send word that I’ll visit around a week from now, and I should share my schedule with the Crown Princess too.’
Apparently, the Crown Princess had stayed at Lien’s estate before, and was now lodging at the most expensive hotel in Weberdine.
Pretending to know nothing in front of the short-tempered Marquis had been exhausting enough.
In any case, Cecilia pulled out fresh stationery. She began drafting a letter, keeping it brief, when suddenly her pen stilled.
‘I wonder what Lien’s been up to.’
Since there was no longer reason to visit the Monastery, her lessons with him had ceased.
Besides, her days were consumed with receiving congratulatory visits from clergy and the Marquis’s acquaintances.
‘That said, we haven’t gone without seeing each other.’
Cecilia, having tilted her head back, was gazing absently at a tapestry with geometric patterns when a soft knock sounded—
from the window.
‘This is the second floor.’
One would expect panic, yet Cecilia opened the window without a trace of alarm.
Lien, standing on the balcony, stepped into the room and gathered her into his arms in one swift motion.
“You’re here? Earlier than usual today?”
For the past week, each time dusk fell, he had come to her room unannounced.
At first, her heart had dropped at these unexpected visits, but now she found herself quietly anticipating him.
He held her so tightly she could barely breathe, burying his face in the hollow of her neck as he whimpered softly.
“I missed you. I really, truly missed you.”
“But we saw each other last night.”
Yet every time they met, no matter how recently, he behaved as though they’d been parted for decades.
“……It’s still not enough.”
His breath tickled against her skin, and something soft seemed to brush there as well.
When she flinched and drew her neck away, Lien murmured something dark and low.
“I wish our bodies would stay fused like this. ……Never to be torn apart.”
His embrace was undeniably comfortable, secure, and warm—tailored perfectly to her frame.
But not so much that she’d agree with such melancholic words.
She withdrew her hand from his waist and gave his forehead a gentle push.
“Stop saying strange things. Come here.”
Cecilia seated him in the chair at her desk, then hoisted herself up onto the desk itself.
“Were you writing a letter? ……To whom?”
Spotting the stack of correspondence and the half-finished stationery, Lien asked anxiously.
“I’m going to the Grand Temple soon, so I was writing to the Crown Princess. Is she doing well?”
Though unintended, since they’d come down together, she should have visited at least once. But she’d held back out of deference to the Marquis’s wishes.
Cecilia checked through the thick bundle of letters to see if there was anything from the Crown Princess.
‘If there were, Melanie would have set it aside.’
“You always seem to be asking after that woman.”
His fingers, which had been flipping through the envelopes quickly, froze.
‘Did I?’
When she’d heard he’d stayed a night at his estate, she had asked where he was now, whether he liked the hotel—things like that.
Perhaps, remembering how she’d been dropped into a Monastery surrounded by enemies on all sides, she’d grown needlessly concerned.
But he seemed displeased with her meddling.
“……You never ask about me, though.”
Lien muttered petulantly.
Well, he came to her every night and always told her about his day first, so there was no need to ask. Besides, his daily accounts amounted to little more than having spent the morning thinking of her, or waiting for dusk since the moment he opened his eyes—empty talk, mostly.
There was nothing worth being curious about.
Yet instead of saying so, Cecilia set the letter envelopes aside on the corner of the desk.
Then, pulling him close by the neck, she whispered near his ear:
“Will you answer if I ask you anything?”
Lien made a soft sound of surrender, lifted her effortlessly, and drew her from the desk onto his lap.
He tucked his large frame into her embrace and answered urgently, “Yes, yes.”
Cecilia began stroking his hair, which fell across her like a puppy seeking affection, and opened her mouth as though she’d been waiting for this.

“Then tell me what you’ve been hiding.”
The hand that had been holding her so firmly faltered for a moment.
He avoided her gaze, blinking those innocent eyes as though he hadn’t heard.
“……When your heart has softened a bit more, Miss Cecilia.”
Instead of answering, he pressed his lips lightly against her cheek, eyelid, the curve of her ear, and the nape of her neck in turn.
“It’s already softened……!”
It’s already softened completely, so tell me now—but the words she was about to press him with dissolved against his lips.
She considered dragging him by the hair and pushing him away, but Cecilia found herself accepting the kiss instead.
If he meant to evade her this way, she had her own plans.
When the kiss—shorter than usual—ended, Cecilia seized his face before he could pull away.
“……Miss Cecilia?”
She traced the trembling length of his lashes, his eyes now clouded and darkened, his flushed cheeks, his wet lips—slowly, deliberately.
By the time his agitation had deepened to match the intensity of the sight before her, she drew back her lips deliberately.
“I’ll come to you tomorrow night.”
“……Really?”
“Yes. Wait for me in your bedroom.”
His body went rigid in an instant. When she closed her eyes in a slow smile to show that yes, he’d heard correctly, a blush crept all the way up to his neck.
It had been Lien who approached her, yet here he was, nodding like a shy boy.
“I’ll wait for you.”
Cecilia leaned against him without answering, pressing herself close.
Perhaps as much as Lien, she too found herself eagerly anticipating tomorrow night.
* * *
Winter had arrived in earnest, and the days had grown mercifully short. What had once darkened before dinner was now pitch black long before evening.
In a world without electric lights or magical devices—the latter strictly limited in Weberdine’s estate, where mages were despised—the great house fell silent quickly.
One could hardly light candles throughout such a sprawling mansion every night, so everyone retired to bed early.
“Sleep well, Miss.”
“Yes, good night.”
The moment Melanie, who had wished her well, withdrew from the room, Cecilia slipped quietly out of bed.
She wrapped a wool shawl over her negligée, tucked a heavy bottle she’d prepared in advance into her embrace, and lit a lamp.
Creak.
She opened the door precisely when the guards’ shift changed. Fortunately, the corridor was empty.
Moving silently, Cecilia slipped out of the estate.
Though less bitter than at the Monastery, the night air still carried a sharp chill. She drew her shawl tighter and quickened her pace.
Her destination was the Garden—or more precisely, the house next door, beyond the secret passage in the Garden.
Arriving at the familiar mansion, Cecilia let out a quiet laugh.
The door stood open, invitingly bright.
‘What if someone came in?’
That ‘someone’ was doubtless her, and whoever had left the door open was surely waiting eagerly for her to do so.
As she carefully passed through the front entrance, the door swung shut behind her with a bang.
Cecilia started, but soon resumed her steps. In the hushed building—quieter still than Weberdine’s estate—only the sound of her footfalls was audible.
Yet she felt no fear, thanks to the small flames scattered sparsely along her path.
A trail of gentle light extended all the way to his bedroom, so she wouldn’t lose her way.
How considerate of him. Without hesitation, Cecilia reached his bedroom door and paused to catch her breath.
It wasn’t her first visit to his estate, nor her first time entering his bedroom—but this was an hour of the night far later than before.
A time when no sin, however dark, need fear discovery.
Whether it was anticipation or nervousness, her heart was pounding. Cecilia ignored the flutter and raised her hand.
But before she could knock, the door swung open.
“You’ve come.”
Lien greeted her warmly, his hair still damp from having bathed not long before.
Looking for all the world like a dog who had been waiting only for his master, he received a gentle caress on his cheek.
“Have you been waiting long?”
“No, actually…… just a little.”
“I’m late because I brought something good.”
Cecilia suddenly produced something she had carefully brought with her.
It was an expensive brandy.
“Would you like to have a glass with me?”

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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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