ISMFB 16

                                                CHAPTER 16

But—

“I can’t accept this.”

His worry had been just that—worry.

“Why not?!”

Magnus was visibly shaken.

So much so that he didn’t even notice he had slipped back into his original way of speaking in his agitation.

“If it feels like too much, we can keep it under my name, and you can just visit whenever you like. It’s on the outskirts of the capital, perfect for a vacation home. Once the weather clears, you can go there to relax.”

“How could someone like me, a mere apprentice, possibly afford something like this?”

Magnus’s eyes went wide—he practically had an exclamation point floating over his head.

“I… I can afford it!”

“No. You should use that money to buy something delicious instead.”

“But I really have a lot of money. I could buy you hundreds of these!”

Magnus grumbled like a kid who’d had their candy rejected.

But Linaria was immovable.

“Anyway, about this passage…”

She smoothly dismissed him and held out a scholarly book.

She was clearly trying to return the atmosphere to its usual academic rhythm.

Normally, Magnus would’ve happily launched into an excited explanation, but being rejected stung more than he expected.

He understood, logically, why she refused—he was hiding his true identity, after all—but emotionally, it still hurt that she wouldn’t accept his gift without hesitation.

“Your mom could solve problems like this in seconds.”

“…”

“She figured this stuff out when she was twelve. Still don’t get it?”

His bitterness inevitably showed. Magnus frowned, sulking as he let out one snide comment after another.

Clack.

At that moment, Linaria quietly set down her pen and stood up.

“W-What?”

Magnus flinched, already feeling guilty.

But Linaria said nothing, just picked up the now-empty plate.

Despite all the grumbling, she had finished the madeleines neatly, leaving only crumbs.

“I’ll go get more snacks.”

“W-Why you? Just have a maid do it.”

“I’ve been sitting too long. My legs are stiff.”

He could tell it was an excuse—but he also knew he was the reason she needed it, so Magnus couldn’t bring himself to stop her.

Naturally, her arrival in the kitchen stirred things up.

“That apprentice is clearly making the young lady serve him! Who does he think he is, ordering her around like that?!”

“No, I came out because I wanted to.”

Linaria tried to explain, but the kitchen maid Becky narrowed her eyes into slits.

“Isn’t mago-engineering what lazy commoners learn so they don’t have to do physical labor? It’s a vulgar field.”

Strictly speaking, this sort of errand shouldn’t have been Linaria’s job anyway, so she usually let Becky’s grumbling slide.

But Becky, carrying a tray piled with madeleines to the door, lowered her voice and muttered:

“They say the Tower Lord’s been alive for over two hundred years. Isn’t that just creepy? He probably hides his face because it’s half-rotted like a corpse. Ugh. Disgusting.”

“Becky. Don’t go around repeating things you don’t know for sure.”

“But miss, it’s weird, isn’t it? Why hide if there’s nothing wrong? And with a master like that, no wonder that little apprentice has no manners, asking you to do things like this.”

Becky was making a class distinction now.

They were both commoners—but in her mind, mago-engineers were vulgar, while a maid serving a duke’s household (like her) was noble.

Reading the unspoken assumption behind Becky’s words, Linaria responded coldly:

“All the things you eat, bathe with, and live by use mago-engineering. Even these madeleines were made with its technology.”

“…”

“So if you depend on a vulgar field to live, doesn’t that make you vulgar too?”

“N-No, that’s not what I meant…”

“Mago-engineering isn’t a field only for commoners—it’s the only field that gives them a chance.”

“…”

“The Tower Lord you called a rotting corpse built the Ivory Tower on the principle of equality. Considering how, two hundred years ago, non-nobles weren’t even seen as people, I think that makes him a remarkable man.”

“I didn’t mean it like that, miss…”

“I know, Becky. You just don’t like mago-engineers, right?”

It was a common prejudice.

“But if you degrade an entire field just because commoners study it, you’re basically spitting in your own face.”

Becky flushed red, perhaps from shame.

Linaria took the tray from her, almost snatching it, and quickly returned to the room.

She was about to sigh from exhaustion when—

“Why are you standing there?”

“I—I was just stretching! My legs got stiff!”

Magnus was waiting outside the door.

Flustered, he quickly scurried back to his seat.

And then, just as hastily, began preparing to leave.

“Here. Today’s scribble.”

“No need! I’m leaving without it today!”

He turned his body away, outright rejecting even Margaret’s scribbles.

Linaria called to his small, retreating figure.

“Sir Magnus.”

“I said no… what?”

“This is the last scribble.”

Magnus turned around, startled.

“You don’t mean…?”

She knows who I am?

Since when?

As if reading his mind, Linaria answered calmly:

“I knew who you were from the start. Anyone who paid close attention to my mother’s notes could have figured it out.”

She said it expressionlessly, as if it were nothing.

“So you were just scheming from the beginning to get me to heal your father.”

His first impression had been correct.

A scheming, underhanded child.

She was now admitting she had approached him under false pretenses.

Magnus bit his lower lip, then steadied himself.

He didn’t even realize it, but the betrayal stung deeply.

“No. I don’t expect you to heal him anymore.”

“Right, I knew you’d say—wait, what? Are you serious right now?”

Wasn’t that the only thing she wanted from him? And now she was giving up?

Magnus genuinely wondered if Linaria had lost her mind.

“I’m completely serious. This is the last message I can pass along to the Tower Lord. There’s no need for you to strain yourself by coming again.”

“…”

“There are more scribbles left, but they’re not about the Tower Lord. My father and I deserve some memories of our own, don’t you think?”

“Why did you do all this?”

He still couldn’t make sense of her intentions.

If she had just asked for treatment from the start, he could’ve at least understood her actions. But this?

It made no sense—too inefficient. A waste of time.

“At first, it was like you said. I did it for my father. But then I started to wonder…”

“…”

“Would you really try your best for him just because I asked? What if you took one look and decided he couldn’t be helped? Then who would I turn to? What hope would I have left?”

To Magnus, Duke Obel might be insufferable—but to Linaria, he was the only father she would protect with her life.

“I was naive. I’m not my mother. I could never be her…”

“…”

“You’ve been comparing everything I do to her, haven’t you? Not just today—every step I’ve taken?”

Magnus flinched.

He had, in fact, made such comparisons freely even today.

A bitter smile crept onto Linaria’s lips.

She shoved the scribble into his hands.

“You won’t have to see this face you hate so much ever again.”

“…”

“Goodbye, then.”

With that final, polite farewell, Linaria turned and walked away.

Magnus could do nothing but stare blankly at her retreating back.

Doesn’t she regret it at all?

Her father’s condition had baffled even seasoned physicians. He might be her only hope—and yet she gave up so easily?

No… more than that—what about the time they spent together?

It hadn’t just been a day or two. And now she could say never see me again so easily?

Magnus’s conflicted gaze soon found its answer.

It was simple.

Because I treated her like a substitute for Margaret.

Who would want to deal with a senile old man living in the past?

And with that bitter realization, Magnus felt like he’d just been struck in the back of the head with a hammer.