The Nerd Next Door Turned Out To Be The Magic Tower Master [Novel] Chapter 46

“Are you all right?”

The whispered voice at her ear snapped her back to awareness. She must have been gripping his forearm without realizing it — the fabric of Sir Miguel’s sleeve was badly creased.

“Ah, I’m sorry.”

“Say the word and I’ll carry you out at a run.”

“…Pardon? You’d carry me?”

Whether this was a solution he’d arrived at after genuine deliberation, his expression remained perfectly grave.

Sir Miguel, slinging the Saintess over his shoulder and sprinting away. Cecilia entertained the image for a moment, then let out a soft laugh.

His absurd suggestion dissolved her tension entirely.

“I’ll save that favor for later.”

With a playful reply, Cecilia stepped out from behind him. Then she looked the Emperor squarely in the eye.

They had no earthly reason to welcome the Saintess, yet they’d gone out of their way to invoke ‘consideration’ and mention her. The reason could only be one thing.

Mockery. Or derision.

A message to show their kind of ‘attention’ to an unwelcome outsider, in every way they saw fit.

But she had no intention of shrinking.

‘Let them talk all they want.’

Compared to death threats, this much was laughable.

Cecilia deliberately smiled and inclined her head to the Emperor. As if she were happy to accept such consideration.

Perhaps the reaction wasn’t what he’d expected — the Emperor wore an unreadable expression for a moment, then gestured to the orchestra to resume the banquet.

As a sweet melody began, some of the guests drifted to the center of the hall and started to dance.

Mercifully, half the attention fixed on her scattered like dust.

But there remained an unfortunate half — and among it was the Emperor’s.

The Emperor exchanged a few words with his closest attendants, then promptly sent a subordinate to her.

“His Imperial Majesty summons you.”

“…Very well.”

‘Here it comes.’

She’d hoped it would come as late as possible.

The summons was for Cecilia alone, so she trudged by herself toward the final boss — no, the Emperor of the Rishatria Empire.

Hereis ben Rishatria.

Emperor of the Rishatria Empire. A fire-attribute mage who had inherited the vivid red hair that served as the Imperial House’s emblem. Possessed of considerable skill, and despite being in her late forties, the kind of person who could pass for an older sister of the Princess.

And…

‘They say she’ll use any means necessary to achieve her ends.’

“I pay my respects to Your Imperial Majesty.”

She’d been taught that there was a separate form of greeting reserved for royalty, but since the one the Saintess served was God, she offered only a light bow.

Despite the presumptuous greeting, the Emperor merely nodded without visible reaction.

“A pleasure to meet you at last. Shall I call you Lady Weberdin, or the Saintess?”

“Weberdin is fine.”

‘…So there was a reaction after all.’

The Emperor had asked knowing full well that the approval hadn’t been granted yet — that Cecilia was, therefore, incomplete as a Saintess in name.

‘She’s telling me to bend the knee if I really want the title.’

A dirty, petty move — but the one with something to lose was Cecilia.

She kept her carefully constructed smile in place, and the perfunctory pleasantries continued.

“Is the Pope well?”

“He insists on taking on even the work of his subordinates, so he remains as busy as ever.”

“I see.”

The Emperor nodded with a somewhat indifferent air, then looked Cecilia over.

“By the way, you seem thinner than you looked in the papers…. I hear you’ve been through quite a few unpleasant incidents recently?”

The person most likely behind those incidents asked with casual nonchalance.

‘Is she testing me?’

Should she test back, then?

Cecilia considered it briefly, then dropped the idea. Showing suspicion without evidence was a poor move.

“Yes, there was a small accident, but under God’s protection, I emerged unharmed.”

“Hmm, God must be quite the trickster. Seeing how He doesn’t spare His beloved creation from trials.”

A provocation that would have set any God-worshipping cleric bristling — but Cecilia didn’t possess a grain’s worth of reverence for the divine.

She shrugged and answered lightly.

“Perhaps God means to nurture the strength for His children to overcome hardship on their own?”

“What a fascinating interpretation.”

“Well, it’s possible He’s simply a trickster, as Your Majesty says.”

Considering He’d essentially abducted someone who’d been living perfectly well in another world, ‘trickster’ was an understatement.

“Ha ha!”

The sardonic answer from the Saintess’s own lips seemed to delight the Emperor, who laughed aloud.

“I wondered what sort of person this generation’s Saintess must be, that her brother would come in her stead to keep her hidden. I’m glad I summoned her directly after all.”

“…”

The Emperor swept back a wave of vivid red hair and leaned abruptly into Cecilia’s space.

“How do you find Belatis? Is it to your liking?”

Cecilia averted her gaze from those eyes that didn’t merely sparkle — they flashed.

Surrounded by enemies on all sides, unable to have even a single dress made easily. How could she possibly like it here?

But instead of the truth, she offered a carefully measured deflection.

“I’ve been fortunate enough to meet a few kind people, so I want for nothing. Though I’m embarrassed to admit it, I’ve never been away from home this long, so I’m beginning to feel rather homesick.”

Because of the majority of unkind people, she wanted to go home. So please, hurry up and approve her so she could leave.

The Emperor must have grasped the underlying meaning easily enough, but she clicked her tongue and feigned ignorance.

“You want to go back already? You must not have properly enjoyed the capital yet.”

“Oh, but I have — I’ve had new clothes made, attended a banquet and everything. If Your Majesty would grant the approval, I’ll be on my way—”

“Now, what’s the rush? Once you leave this time, you’ll never come back. Take your time and enjoy yourself before you go.”

‘Enjoy what, exactly? The assassination attempts? The gossip? The discrimination?’

Swallowing the urge to smack the Emperor’s smug head, Cecilia delivered her words with composure.

“A generous offer, but I’ve left much unfinished in Weberdin. My father and His Holiness the Pope are both anxiously awaiting my return…. I humbly beseech Your Majesty’s gracious indulgence.”

“I thought you were a little different, but in this regard you’re exactly like the Pope.”

The Emperor let out a displeased sigh and straightened up.

“Come to me once the successor has been decided. I’ll grant the approval immediately.”

‘What?’

The acceptance she’d longed for had been given — yet Cecilia couldn’t bring herself to rejoice.

Because, well, wasn’t that far too easy?

She’d braced herself for demands to grovel, for insults to her face, for the worst case of the Emperor going back on her word and refusing outright.

‘There’s no way she’d agree this easily…’

Cecilia waited for the conditions to follow. But the Emperor tossed out only a single, light suggestion.

“However, I’d appreciate it if you’d attend the investiture ceremony. After all, my successor must receive the Pope’s blessing regardless. The Saintess’s blessing on top of that would be more than welcome.”

“…”

“And, if possible, I’d like this generation’s Saintess and the Crown Prince to get along.”

Cecilia gazed up at the Emperor, who had tilted her head slightly to one side.

The Emperor sipped wine received from an attendant, looking as though she’d said nothing of consequence.

‘Get along, she says.’

There was no way she meant it, Cecilia was certain. Just as her own father ground his teeth at the mention of the Imperial House, they surely despised House Weberdin — the Holy Temple — in equal measure.

‘She might be trying to put me off my guard.’

Cecilia turned the Emperor’s words over, searching for the hidden motive, then nodded without real commitment.

If it meant getting the approval faster, attending an investiture or nodding along to empty words — neither was particularly difficult.

“Then I’ll—”

Her objective achieved, Cecilia bowed her head. She meant to take her leave.

But before she could finish, the Emperor spoke again.

“Is there nothing you wish to ask me?”

The answer to the question the Emperor had abruptly posed was already decided.

Whether it was you who ordered the assassination.

That was the one thing she truly wanted to ask.

‘As if I could.’

When Cecilia closed her mouth, the Emperor let out a deflated little laugh.

“You seem quite uninterested in my choice. The subordinates who used to pester me were desperate to read my mind.”

“Ah…”

‘So that’s what she meant.’

Whether the Princess ascended or the Prince did, they’d be the Holy Temple’s enemy regardless. She wasn’t remotely curious about the political infighting within the Imperial House.

Cecilia offered a belated pleasantry.

“Whichever person succeeds Your Majesty, I’m certain it will be a wise choice.”

“A wise choice…”

The Emperor trailed off and gazed absently at her children, who were conversing among the nobles.

If just for this moment she looked like nothing more than a troubled mother of two — was that Cecilia’s imagination?

The intent behind raising this topic with the Saintess of all people, the reason for not being openly hostile, the true purpose of summoning her to the capital.

Every single one was a mystery.

But the Emperor resolved none of them, simply turning on her heel.

“I seem to have kept you too long. Go and enjoy the banquet.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

Cecilia offered her farewell without lingering and put distance between herself and the Emperor.

She’d secured the promise of approval; all that remained was to hear the succession announcement, mirror whatever reaction the upended banquet hall produced, and collect her approval in due course.

Considerably lighter in spirit, Cecilia headed to the left side of the hall. Elegant finger foods lined the long table.

Perhaps because she’d just cleared a major hurdle, hunger crashed over her.

‘They wouldn’t have poisoned food that anyone could eat… right? Should be safe.’

She was deliberating when a gentle voice reached her from behind.