Chapter 6: Shadow Guardian
980words
I played along perfectly, shuffling forward with convincing uncertainty, internally rating my performance and calculating my chances at fictional acting awards.
The true spectacle, however, began shortly after we reached my chambers.
Frederick reappeared at my threshold, marching proudly with a lumpy bundle entirely unbefitting his royal status. Without waiting for announcement, he pushed the door open himself and proclaimed with formal gravity: "I promised to care for you personally, and I shall. From this day until your sight returns, I, Frederick Reeve, will serve as your guardian knight."
He thumped his tiny chest—which barely had any muscle to speak of—with such solemnity you'd think he was being sworn into sacred office rather than relocating his bedroom.
Without further ceremony, he began arranging his possessions throughout my quarters: a self-walking magical toy chest, an assortment of bizarre alchemical instruments, and even a miniature portable alchemy station bearing his monogram.
More astonishing still were his helpers—not royal servants but fellow students, their faces glowing with suspiciously enthusiastic smiles. Among them stood Third Prince Alex and Fifth Princess Isabella—the same royals who'd so enjoyed yesterday's training ground spectacle.
Alex himself carried an impossibly plush goose-down comforter emblazoned with Frederick's royal crest. With an expression of profound relief, he told me: "Instructor Winifred, we leave Frederick in your capable hands. You are truly the Academy's savior."
Isabella arrived with a leather valise containing Frederick's wardrobe. She offered me a graceful curtsy, fan delicately concealing her mouth while her eyes shone with unmistakable gratitude: "Instructor, your sacrifice will never be forgotten. The Academy's tranquility now rests in your hands."
The remaining students outdid even the royals in their enthusiasm, scrambling to transport Frederick's possessions with expressions of barely contained elation. This wasn't helping a classmate relocate—this was a village celebrating the banishment of a curse, lacking only actual fireworks and ceremonial drums.
I maintained my "sightless" pose on the sofa, surrounded by effusive gratitude, while internally convulsing with laughter. The true weight of Frederick's [Academy's Little Troublemaker] title became crystal clear. What unholy terror had this child unleashed to make his own siblings and classmates so desperate to offload him onto me?
【System Notification: NPC 'Frederick' has shifted focus from 'tormenting others' to 'caring for mentor'. Academy Reputation +200 points.】
【Narration: Due to Frederick being only six years old, no one questioned the arrangement or considered the mentor's youth and beauty relevant. Their singular thought: Finally! Someone can manage this tiny terror! With his attention fixed on Instructor Winifred, he'll have no energy for tormenting others! Bless the instructor! Praise her sacrifice!】
A peculiar festive mood swept through the entire Academy.
Rumors spread that the Seventh Princess—who typically maintained her slender figure on a diet of lettuce leaves and water—actually smiled through dinner that evening while consuming an additional half bowl of rice and an entire cream puff.
Thus began my absurd new existence as a "blind person" under the "attentive care" of a pint-sized despot.
At mealtimes, he insisted on feeding me personally, resulting in gravy artfully distributed across my chin rather than in my mouth. During walks, he clutched my hand with nervous intensity, forcing me to stoop constantly due to our height difference, leaving my back screaming in protest by evening. Most alarmingly, he stationed himself outside the bathroom while I bathed, solemnly declaring it necessary to prevent accidents, making even basic hygiene a nerve-wracking experience.
Each night, he constructed a cozy nest before my fireplace using the plush rugs and quilts his eager classmates had provided.
From my grand bed, wrapped in silk sheets, I feigned blindness-induced anxiety while tracking his movements by sound. I listened to his bedding preparations, his off-key humming, and the occasional contented sighs—like a kitten settling into a sunbeam—as he arranged his pillows just so.
The absurdity nearly broke my composure multiple times. Here I was—supposedly his victim—now receiving devoted care from my tormentor. Meanwhile, the future scourge of the continent, the dreaded villain-to-be, busied himself like a nesting field mouse, happily establishing his territory in my chambers.
What bizarre scenario had I created? Stockholm syndrome in reverse?
Eventually, silence settled over the room. I sensed he had finally bedded down, the fireplace casting his tiny silhouette against the wall—a peaceful shadow in the dancing light.
"Teacher," his voice pierced the quiet darkness, "are you asleep?"
"Not yet," I replied, carefully calibrating vulnerability in my tone. "I'm... scared. Everything's so dark."
Through the darkness, I heard him shift position, presumably turning toward me.
"Don't be afraid," he declared with gravity far beyond his years. "I'm right here. Nothing can hurt you while I'm watching."
He paused briefly before adding:
"And I'll stay with you until you see light again. So sleep well."
His words were half childish oath, half gentle prison sentence—binding me firmly within the farce I'd created.
I sank into my plush mattress, listening to his soft, steady breathing, contemplating this strange peace I'd engineered with decidedly mixed feelings.
I'd successfully contained the Academy's most dangerous menace through my little performance. But the price? I'd trapped myself alongside him, transformed into a helpless "blind person" under his constant "protection," with barely a moment's freedom.
This bargain—had I come out ahead or dug my own grave?
Hard to say. All I knew was that tomorrow would bring even more "excitement" to my life. All thanks to my own "brilliant" scheme. What a genius I am, I thought with profound regret.
