The Nerd Next Door Turned Out To Be The Magic Tower Master [Novel] Chapter 47

“The caviar canapés should be delicious.”

Cecilia had been reaching for the food, but her head snapped up.

A jeweled dress that flashed with reflected light at every movement, red hair the same shade as the Emperor’s, and those vividly painted lips she’d seen once before.

It was Princess Regina.

Following the Emperor, another unwelcome figure had appeared, and the appetite that had surged so suddenly vanished as if it had never existed.

When Cecilia turned sullenly away from the food, the Princess abruptly extended her hand.

“A pleasure to meet you. I’m Regina Hill Rishatria.”

Her manner was perfectly polite, as if they had never met before.

‘Is she pretending the boutique incident never happened?’

“Cecilia Weberdin.”

Cecilia likewise feigned ignorance and lightly clasped her hand.

She had neither the energy nor the inclination to bring up their rude first encounter now. If the Princess didn’t pick a fight, Cecilia was perfectly willing to keep up the act of a harmless acquaintanceship.

‘Right. If she doesn’t pick a fight.’

“Your dress doesn’t seem southern-style. Did you have it newly made for the occasion?”

“Mine would have been a bit too cold for the capital.”

“It suits you well. You must have found a good designer. It’s exactly the kind of design I like.”

Considering that Melanie had struggled to find a designer, that the one she’d finally secured worked at the Princess’s favored boutique, and that the Princess clearly knew all of this already — it was a compliment with thorns hidden inside.

‘Here we go again.’

Following the Emperor, it seemed the Princess intended to exhaust her too. Cecilia swallowed a deep sigh.

“I was lucky.”

“How fortunate.”

But the Princess’s attack veered in an unexpected direction. She extended that slender hand with its red-tipped fingers once more.

“Would you dance a song with me?”

“…Pardon?”

“You haven’t danced a single song yet, have you? Grant me the honor of your first dance.”

It was etiquette not to refuse an invitation for the first dance.

If the Princess hadn’t appeared, Cecilia had planned to dance one song with Miguel at an appropriate time and then slip away.

“But I…”

“Oh, I won’t take no for an answer. Truthfully, I fled here to escape being hounded by people. Surely they won’t chase me all the way to the dance floor.”

Cecilia, who had been blinking blankly, reluctantly took the Princess’s hand.

It seemed this wasn’t merely a joke — the Princess led her toward the center of the hall.

‘She actually wants to dance with me? Is this even acceptable?’

Cecilia hastily glanced around.

Several people were dancing to the beautiful melody, but there wasn’t a single pair with two women as partners.

“W-wait. I don’t think this will work. I only learned the woman’s part.”

“That’s fine. I know both. My younger brother is hopeless at anything physical, so I learned the man’s part to teach him.”

“Even so, this is…”

Before her protest could continue, a new piece began.

It was a slow-tempo waltz.

True to her confident claim, the Princess led Cecilia with practiced ease.

Moreover, the Princess was slender and about a handspan taller, so her leading didn’t look particularly odd.

In the end, Cecilia gave in and focused on the dance.

‘I never imagined the dance I worked so hard to learn from Rien would end up being danced with the Princess of all people.’

Following what Rien had taught her, she stepped back and twirled, her skirt blooming and folding like petals.

‘I thought she might try to make me trip and embarrass myself.’

But the Princess neither behaved as outrageously as she had at the boutique nor interfered with Cecilia’s dancing.

If anything, Cecilia even made it through the sections where she’d usually lost the beat.

And somehow, something felt different from before…

Cecilia stole a glance up at the Princess.

Perhaps it was because the silent woman’s face was eerily expressionless. Beneath the glamorous clothes and makeup, she seemed somehow exhausted, somehow gaunt.

‘Come to think of it, didn’t they say she has a chronic illness?’

For someone who should reign at the pinnacle of a nation, illness was a fatal problem.

Fatal enough to render meaningless both the fact that the Princess had been exceptionally brilliant since childhood and that, as the Prince’s elder sister, she held higher priority in the line of succession.

Just as Cecilia vaguely guessed the reason the Princess had been “hounded” and was discarding her worthless pity—

The Princess, who had been silent for some time, suddenly spoke.

“Did you know? The position I hold now — it was originally yours.”

“…Pardon?”

“The Empire was originally a theocracy, wasn’t it? With God directly above, and the Pope holding a position equivalent to a king — so as his goddaughter, you would have been practically a princess.”

It was something Cecilia had never once considered.

If she thought about it, the Princess’s hypothetical wasn’t entirely wrong, but at the same time it was a completely meaningless one.

What was the intent behind those words?

As she tried to gauge it, the Princess continued.

“Don’t you find it a waste? A Saintess can’t adorn herself lavishly or buy whatever jewels she pleases. I think I’d hate a position where all you do is serve and show consideration.”

“To be honest, it’s not great.”

Both the real Cecilia and her current self. Neither particularly wanted the title of Saintess.

It was suffocating — a position with nothing but responsibility and threat — one she’d abandon if she could.

But…

“I don’t covet your position either. Isn’t it the same over there? A position where you must constantly prove yourself and survive suspicion.”

The moment her words ended, the hand gripping hers tightened sharply.

‘Ah.’

Cecilia furrowed her brow slightly. But she felt no guilt. It may have been excessively blunt, but it wasn’t wrong.

That was probably why the other woman couldn’t refute it and was simply staring at her.

Like meeting someone for the first time — or perhaps as if witnessing an entirely new form of life — the Princess gazed at her with startled eyes.

“You…”

The music ended at precisely that moment.

Cecilia stepped back two paces, gathered her skirt, and curtseyed gracefully.

Seizing the timing without a moment’s hesitation, a lady-in-waiting who had been waiting for the dance to end carefully interjected.

“Your Highness, … is waiting for you.”

“Very well, let’s go.”

It seemed it was time to face the crowd she’d fled from again.

The Princess swiftly composed whatever confusion or surprise she felt and gave a small nod.

“Until next time, then.”

She left a brief farewell and receded with the precise click of her heels.

‘Finally over.’

Cecilia, who had apparently been tense without realizing it, let her stiff shoulders sag and trudged back to her original spot.

At last she was alone, just as she’d wished, but unfortunately her appetite did not return.

Instead of the appetizing madeleines or the canapés the Princess had recommended, she was sipping water and listening to a nameless piece with beautiful violin passages when she caught the sound of a hushed conversation nearby.

Middle-aged women who had come to fetch food were glancing somewhere as they talked.

“That must be Duke Dillanché, yes?”

‘Dillanché?’

A familiar name she couldn’t possibly let pass — she pricked up her ears.

“I’d heard they never attend events like this. Must have been His Majesty’s order?”

“It must be. You know what day it is. And I heard today they even brought all the young lords!”

The women whispered, gesturing toward the inner part of the hall.

‘So that’s why it felt strangely abuzz.’

Beside the Emperor and the Princess stood a man with sleekly combed-back black hair and a cold countenance. Behind him, several people in robes were standing by — all of them appeared to be mages.

Now that she looked, people in black robes and dark gray robes were scattered throughout the hall. Only those in gray robes wore badges bearing the Dillanché family crest on their chests, which suggested they were House Dillanché’s mages, while the black robes belonged to the Magic Tower.

‘Wow…’

Cecilia couldn’t hold back her dismay. More shocking than the fact that Duke Dillanché had brought mages in tow was what those mages were wearing.

‘What exactly does a robe mean to a mage?’

Even at a banquet — even before the Emperor — they couldn’t give up their robes.

She’d thought it was just Rien’s affliction, but apparently it was endemic to mages.

She was just thinking of a certain mage in a black robe, currently buried under a mountain of work, when—

“Could that possibly be ‘that’ second son?”

“Oh my, Dillanché’s second son would never appear at an official function!”

‘Dillanché’s second son?’

Cecilia edged closer to the women and secretly listened in.

“Haven’t you heard that rumor?”

“Which rumor?”

“Unlike the eldest, the Duke has kept the second son hidden away. Apparently it’s because his appearance is so shockingly grotesque that he simply can’t be seen in public! But his magical ability is supposedly extraordinary, so the Duke couldn’t just keep him hidden forever!”

“Goodness, is that really true?”

“Who knows. He’s been such a recluse that there are even rumors he isn’t a real person — that perhaps the Duke adopted a capable mage!”

“I can’t speak to his appearance, but he’s definitely a real, direct-line son. I’ve heard marriage talks are being exchanged with Her Highness the Princess.”

“Then he must have come to see Her Highness!”

Cecilia looked at the man in the gray robe who stood conspicuously tall between Duke Dillanché and the Princess.

‘Is that man their second son?’

The rumors were so lurid that he seemed to attract as much gossip as she did.

‘Well, I don’t feel sorry for him in the least.’

If it was true that his magical ability was outstanding, then Dillanché’s second son could very well be one of the people behind everything.

Just as she was following that thread of suspicion—

Her eyes met those of the man in the gray robe, the one who had been conversing with the Princess.