The Nerd Next Door Turned Out To Be The Magic Tower Master [Novel] Chapter 43

She couldn’t fathom why the Princess, who had gone out of her way to send an invitation, would then go out of her way to seek her out in person.

But if this sort of shallow provocation was the goal, Cecilia was the one left more disappointed.

When she replied coldly, the Princess blinked as if caught off guard.

“……They don’t teach you in the south how to discern who you’re speaking to?”

“Here, the only one a Saintess serves and reveres is God, so they must not teach you that there’s no need to bow to someone who isn’t even the Emperor?”

“……Is she really the Saintess? That personality is no joke — is she like, a Saintess stand-in or something?”

Forgetting even to hide her mouth behind her fan, the Princess stood there dumbfounded, then elbowed the lady-in-waiting beside her, demanding answers.

‘Well, I haven’t received official approval yet, so technically I’m not the real Saintess.’

But that went both ways. The Princess hadn’t been publicly declared heir either.

More importantly, as Rien had told her, the Pope’s authority was no different from the Emperor’s — which meant the Saintess’s position was no different from the Crown Prince’s.

In other words, there was no reason to be courteous to someone who approached her rudely first.

The other party seemed to recognize this as well.

Far from throwing a fit as expected, the Princess stared at her with eyes brimming with fascination.

“Well, if I offended you, I’m sorry. I’ve been curious since ages ago. About how benevolent the Saintess really is as a person.”

“Now you know. The Saintess is just an ordinary person. One who’s perfectly willing to curse at anyone rude enough to deserve it.”

She was already on edge not knowing who might be threatening her life, and here one of the prime suspects behind it all had come to pick a fight in person. Of course nothing pleasant was going to come out of her mouth.

Yet despite the blatant sarcasm, the Princess didn’t seem to mind in the slightest, merely shrugging her shoulders.

“So it seems. I ended up being rude without meaning to. I heard the Saintess had come up to the capital, and I simply couldn’t contain my curiosity.”

“You seem to have gotten your fill, so may I take my leave now?”

She felt sorry for the staff who had been caught in this clash of titans, squirming helplessly since earlier — and above all, she didn’t want to be a spectacle any longer.

Cecilia spun away before the Princess’s answer even landed. She turned to Rien, who had been pulling his robe hood down as if to bury his face since earlier.

“Rien, I’m sorry since you went out of your way to bring me here, but I think we should head back for today.”

“……Rien?”

It was neither Cecilia nor Melanie who repeated his name — it was the Princess.

“Hah.” The Princess swallowed a hollow laugh, looking even more startled than when Cecilia had talked back.

‘Do they know each other?’

Rien was the Magic Tower Master and had resided in the capital for a long time, so it stood to reason he would have crossed paths with the Princess at official functions. In that case, they would naturally be acquainted.

Though she couldn’t understand why he was trying so hard to hide his face.

“A combination I never would have expected. The Saintess and that Rien……”

When the Princess murmured meaningfully, Rien flinched as if he’d been stabbed.

If the Princess knew Rien’s true identity, then seeing the head of the Magic Tower alongside the Saintess — the very center of the Holy Temple — would certainly be surprising. But wasn’t the Magic Tower ostensibly neutral?

‘Is it really something to be that flustered about?’

But the Princess didn’t address Rien directly, ending the one-sided conversation there.

“This alone made the trip worthwhile. Well then, see you next time.”

What exactly was their relationship, and what were the words she’d swallowed? The culprit who’d left that lingering unease behind waved her hand languidly, seeing Cecilia off with perfect composure.

‘See you next time, she says.’

Contrary to her desire never to deal with this person again, the maddening thing was that it would inevitably come to pass.

Whether the dress fitting was dragging on or her heart wasn’t ready, time marched on regardless, and the banquet was now right around the corner.

And Cecilia had just run headlong into yet another problem.

‘Who do I bring as a partner?’

If she were in Weberdin, she would have brought Nox without a second thought. But this was the capital, and unfortunately, neither Nox nor any other family was at her side.

As for asking Rien……

Manners aside, Rien was a capital nobleman and certainly qualified, but he was the Magic Tower Master. Unless he planned to wear his robe to the banquet, the moment they entered together would cause a commotion that made the incident with the Princess look like nothing.

And if rumors of it reached Weberdin, her father might well collapse on the spot, clutching the back of his neck.

‘So Sir Miguel really is the only one I can ask.’

Cecilia, who had been leaning all the way back in her chair staring at the ceiling, sprang upright.

He usually took the afternoon guard shift, so there was a good chance he was at the training grounds right now.

But she found Miguel in the estate’s garden instead. The gardener was nowhere to be seen; Miguel was tending flowers that had grown up to her knee height, and he hastily hid his dirt-covered hands.

“Saintess? What brings you here……”

“Why are you tending the garden, Sir?”

“Ah, the gardener fell off a ladder while trimming the ornamental trees not long ago. It’s a bit embarrassing, but horticulture is a hobby of mine, so I’ve been helping with the simple tasks.”

The Vice-Commander of the Holy Knight Order, said to strike down any evil without mercy — doing garden work.

It was a combination hard to picture, yet unexpectedly, it suited him perfectly.

‘Standing among the flowers, he looks rather like one himself.’

As she quietly watched the man standing amid a rosebush with its leaves unfurled in full vigor, Miguel tilted his head slightly in that habitual way of his.

“But what brings you all the way out here?”

“Oh, I went to the training grounds and they said you were here. I was looking for you.”

“For me? Ah, are you planning to go out?”

“No, actually there’s something I’d like to ask of you…… Would you be able to escort me to the upcoming banquet?”

“……Pardon?”

Miguel dropped his pruning shears. The sharp tip buried itself right beside his foot, and he didn’t so much as flinch — frozen solid.

‘Is it really that shocking a request?’

Cecilia smiled awkwardly and hurried to add:

“It’s just, my father and brother aren’t here, so there’s no one else I can ask. ……Is it too much to ask?”

“Not at all!”

Miguel blurted it out urgently, then wiped his dirty hands haphazardly on his white shirt before dropping to one knee before her.

“I am simply honored that you would grant me such a privilege.”

As any knight would before a lady, Miguel carefully took hold of Cecilia’s fingertips. Then he pressed a light kiss to the back of her hand.

Cecilia, who had grown accustomed only to the understated greetings of clergy, gave a small shiver.

‘I never thought I’d experience a scene I’d only read about in books.’

The back of her neck felt oddly warm.

But the afterglow didn’t last long.

Thud.

Because an unfamiliar presence made itself known nearby.

Rien stood in the middle of the garden, staring blankly at the two of them.

‘Why is Rien here…… No, how long has he been watching?’

Those violet eyes trembling as if he’d been wounded — she couldn’t bring herself to meet them.

But before Cecilia could do anything, Rien closed the distance between them in long, swift strides.

He pried her hand free from Miguel’s grip and scrubbed the back of it roughly with the hem of his own shirt.

Even that wasn’t enough — he kept gnawing at his lower lip.

“Th-this isn’t enough. Let’s go to the infirmary. They’ll have disinfectant there……”

Muttering in a voice gone thick and hoarse, Rien tried to lead her away.

But her body didn’t budge. Her other hand had been seized by Miguel.

Miguel, who was always either composed or gentle, had hardened his expression to an unfamiliar coldness.

“Seizing the Saintess’s hand and dragging her by force — I cannot tolerate such discourtesy. Release her.”

At the weighty warning, Rien turned slowly.

His face, cast deep in shadow, was profoundly unsettling. The gaze that had gone chillingly still looked ready to bury a man alive.

“Stay out of this.”

This time — this time alone, he could not give up.

His disjointed murmuring had grown genuinely unnerving, and finally Cecilia stepped in to defuse things.

“Sir Miguel, I’m fine. So let me go talk with Rien for a moment.”

“I understand that the Marquis assigned this man, but his identity is unverified. I cannot trust him.”

He was right. Rien was a liar, his true nature still unknowable, and difficult to trust.

But……

“Rien won’t hurt me.”

The words slipped out before she knew it, and she found herself shaken by them.

‘So I actually… wanted to believe he wouldn’t hurt me.’

In any case, it was broad daylight and there was a witness in the Vice-Commander of the Holy Knight Order. She didn’t think Rien would openly strangle her here.

“Saintess, even so……”

“Then I’ll talk to him somewhere not far from here. That should put your mind at ease, right?”

When the Saintess refused to bend, Miguel finally let the strength slip from his hand.

Now the only one left was Rien.

She was the one whose hand had been held, yet Cecilia led him in the opposite direction, toward the far edge of the garden.

‘This should be far enough that he can’t hear us.’