The Nerd Next Door Turned Out To Be The Magic Tower Master [Novel] Chapter 19

“What? But… aren’t you forbidden from going out?”

“That’s right.”

Her brazen confirmation left Rien speechless.

Since the incident — no, even before the incident — the only outings permitted to her were the estate gardens and Rien’s manor right next door.

And even those required a full escort in tow.

In fact, the moment she stepped through this entrance hall, a line of the family’s knights would be waiting for her outside.

All that fuss just to visit the house next door and meet a tutor whose credentials were verified, albeit with a touch of deception.

Let alone plunging into the middle of a festival teeming with people of every kind.

She’d clearly be shot down before she even got the words out.

But…

“There is one way to slip past the surveillance.”

Cecilia curved her lips into a smooth smile and stepped right up to him.

“All I need is you, Rien.”

At the sudden closeness, Rien drew in a sharp breath.

“You can do spatial teleportation magic, can’t you?”

“Ah…”

“You can’t?”

Surely the great Magic Tower Master who’d even wielded time-manipulation magic couldn’t be unable to use spatial teleportation?

When she failed to hide her disappointment, Rien hurried to deny it.

“I-I can do it.”

“I knew it!”

Cecilia clapped her palms together. Nothing was even confirmed yet, but she was already bubbling over, chattering away with her explanation.

“I come to your manor under the pretense of lessons, like today, then we teleport — poof — and it’s the perfect crime!”

“But wouldn’t that be too dangerous…?”

He was the man who smiled like a fool no matter how rudely she treated him, so she’d assumed he would eagerly agree with her this time too.

But the word yes did not come easily from his lips.

“Rien, please.”

Cecilia gripped the sleeve of his robe tightly and gazed up at him with desperate eyes.

Rien could not bring himself to shake off the small hand clinging to him, and let out a faint sigh.

A moment later, his nod was a foregone conclusion.

The next morning.

Cecilia’s eyes snapped open — not from commotion, but from anticipation.

Without her usual dawdling in bed, she sprang up, finished getting ready, and made quick work of breakfast.

Her mistress, who normally whined that the world beyond the bed was a dangerous place, had done a complete about-face overnight. Melanie sent her a suspicious look.

“My lady, did something good happen?”

“No, I just feel good today for some reason.”

Something’s definitely off.

Melanie murmured under her breath, but with the Magic Tower Master as her accomplice, there was no chance this perfect crime would be exposed.

Cecilia gave a few strokes down the back of Charles, who lay asleep claiming the center of the bed, then headed straight out of the estate.

And she safely made it past the front gate… or didn’t, running straight into the Marquis and a group of unfamiliar guests.

“Cecilia, good timing.”

“Father, who are these…?”

He appeared to have been in the middle of receiving clerics who had traveled from other regions; beside the Marquis stood a cluster of middle-aged figures in white priestly vestments.

“Pay your respects. These are clerics from other territories.”

Momentarily flustered, Cecilia mimicked a greeting she’d once seen the Pope offer to clerics.

“May God’s warmth be with those who follow God’s will.”

“May God’s grace be with the saintess.”

Judging by the Marquis’s manner toward them, they were high-ranking priests, yet their greeting came back remarkably courteous.

It’s probably the title of saintess-in-waiting rather than being the eldest daughter of Weberdin.

That was how Cecilia read the curiosity and faint goodwill they directed her way.

“I hear you’ll be conducting the rites alongside His Holiness the Pope at this year’s Relief Festival?”

“Yes, we’re most honored.”

The Marquis answered with a gratified smile.

The person actually concerned was barely swallowing back a rising sigh when her eyes met those of one particular cleric — someone with an unremarkable face that looked oddly familiar.

He had been openly scrutinizing her for a while now, and suddenly parted his lips.

“I heard you demonstrated truly remarkable holy power at the Grand Temple not long ago…”

He’s not going to ask me to show him, is he? Should I fake a sudden stomachache?

The mere thought was enough to make cold sweat trickle.

“…Remarkable is too strong a word. I believe God’s generosity has simply been exaggerated.”

“How modest.”

Mercifully, the cleric did not demand a demonstration of holy power.

He leisurely withdrew the stare he’d been fixing on her and left only a single, rather loaded remark.

“I look forward to it.”

Whether he meant the rites or her role as saintess was impossible to tell.

Cecilia bobbed her head awkwardly and wrapped up the conversation in a hurry.

“Well then, if you’ll excuse me…”

“Cecilia.”

She wanted nothing more than to get through this minefield immediately, but the Marquis spoke again.

“Are you off to your lessons?”

“Yes.”

To be precise, she was pretending to go to lessons while sneaking off to have fun.

“You’ve been working so hard lately. The day after tomorrow you’ll need to leave for the Grand Temple, so it’s perfectly fine to rest.”

Of all things, he had to emphasize an enlistment date she’d been trying so hard to forget.

The excitement that had risen all the way to her head deflated in an instant.

But precisely because the day she’d leave the secular world was not far off, she couldn’t afford to let this chance slip by.

Cecilia shook her head, gentle but firm.

“No — if anything, I need to eliminate my shortcomings as quickly as possible to earn approval.”

“What dedication.”

The clerics seemed deeply impressed by the saintess’s zeal. Meeting their admiring gazes made her worn, dulled conscience prickle with guilt.

“Of course, but do tell me if it becomes too much.”

The Marquis’s gentle words were the killing blow.

In the end, Cecilia quietly averted her eyes and managed only a strained smile.

“I only worry about bringing shame to the Weberdin name.”

“You needn’t feel burdened. I’ll be sending your brother along to the Temple as well, so don’t worry.”

Oh. Not that.

The smile she’d forced into place dropping back to neutral in one fell swoop was, truly, force majeure.

Perhaps it was the unexpected encounter. She hadn’t even set out yet and she was already drained.

Cecilia trudged past the unguarded front gate, past the still-fresh daisies, and dragged herself to the manor entrance.

Thud, thud.

She pulled the heavy iron handle down a couple of times to knock, and as always, the owner of the house burst out.

“C-Cecilia! I didn’t expect you this early…!”

He must have rushed out; Rien wore a loose white shirt and fitted leather trousers with his robe barely draped over him, not properly fastened.

Meaning, through the gap of his shirt where the laces weren’t tied, a solid chest was clearly visible, along with thigh lines more muscular than expected beneath those trousers.

And the face revealed without its usual hood — so impossibly delicate.

The knights standing behind her drew audible, startled breaths.

“Let’s talk inside.”

Cecilia pushed him firmly back in and followed.

So this is why he always wears the robe and hood.

He was a man dangerous to show to others, in an entirely different sense.

“You really don’t have to rush out like this every time.”

“B-but I don’t want to keep you waiting, Cecilia.”

She gazed up at him — ears flushed red, smiling shyly — then carefully fastened his shirt for him, button by button. She properly pulled his robe’s hood up, too.

The man, all his hazards now concealed, tilted his head in puzzlement, but Cecilia pretended not to notice and changed the subject.

“Looks like you’re ready. Shall we go?”

“Y-yes! Then, would you give me your hand?”

Cecilia held out her hand, palm facing up.

A hand with no strength behind it settled over hers like a summer leaf drifting down.

“It may make you dizzy, so it would be best to close your eyes.”

She deliberated briefly between satisfying her curiosity about spatial teleportation and following sensible advice. In the end she sided with the latter, and let her eyes slide shut.

A breeze stirred, enough to make her clothing ripple, and a rolling nausea washed over her as if she were riding a pitching boat.

She was knitting her brow at the mildly unpleasant, surreal sensation when—

“You can open your eyes now.”

The discomfort ceased, and a damp, musty smell brushed the tip of her nose.

Cecilia pushed open her trembling eyelids.

The two of them stood at the mouth of an alley so dark that even shadows were barely visible. And at the end of that passage, the hazy outline of people bustling noisily back and forth came into view.

She really was at the festival.

The moment it sank in, the anticipation that had deflated swelled back up like a balloon.

“Come on, let’s go!”

Cecilia urged him forward, brimming with excitement — looking ready to dive headlong into the crowd at any second.

“W-wait! You forgot your robe.”

“Oh.”

Rien rummaged through a palm-sized bag and produced a robe, draping it around her.

It must have been his; the color was the same dreary shade as the one he always wore, and it was so long it nearly dragged on the ground.

“It’s stuffier than I expected.”

How he wore something like this every single day, all day long, was beyond her.

She hated the stifling feeling, and it was a shame that the outfit she’d put effort into was now completely hidden — but there was no helping it.

There was no way the people of the territory wouldn’t recognize the saintess, pride of Weberdin.

To prevent the disaster of the saintess’s escapade making tomorrow’s breaking news, Cecilia tugged the hood down snugly.

“Now let’s really go!”

Swept up in the exhilaration of stepping into another world, she left the alley alongside him.

The instant they crossed fully from shadow into light, sunlight poured down over her head and the noise and heat generated by the crowd rushed in all at once.