Chapter 7: Mind Games
939words
Birdsong roused me as usual. Still half-asleep, I braced myself for the familiar suffocating darkness. But when I slowly opened my eyes, golden morning light filtered through my bed curtains, piercing the blackness.
The light appeared blurry at first, like viewing the world through frosted glass. Then gradually, everything sharpened into focus—the ornate plaster ceiling medallions, the intricate grain of the wooden bedposts, even the delicate barbs on my quill pen across the room. All the details darkness had stolen from me for days came flooding back in a glorious rush.
【System Notification: Negative status 'Temporary Blindness' removed.】
Never had that blue system text looked so beautiful. I could see again!
I fought the urge to leap from bed cheering, instead carefully turning my head. Frederick remained fast asleep on his makeshift bed by the fireplace, curled into a small bundle with only his golden head visible above the covers, rising and falling with each steady breath.
Perfect.
I bit back a smile while mentally calculating my next move. This ridiculous charade could finally end. No more "helpful" feedings that left more food on my face than in my mouth. No more hunched walks to accommodate his height. No more bathing with the constant feeling of being watched!
Freedom was finally at hand!
I slipped from bed, dressed silently, and escaped to the courtyard. The flower-scented morning air filled my lungs like pure freedom. I felt reborn—until I spotted Frederick lounging in MY courtyard, sprawled across a chaise lounge that had materialized from nowhere. My temple throbbed dangerously.
He was clearly awake and had made himself thoroughly comfortable, having summoned a maid to bring his favorite breakfast. Now he was leisurely consuming a sugar-frosted muffin with a tiny silver fork.
"Well, your 'personal care' mission has been successfully completed," I announced, clearing my throat. I kept my tone gentle but firm—the voice of someone not to be argued with. "My sight has returned. Now—immediately—pack your things and return to your own royal chambers."
Frederick froze mid-bite. He swallowed slowly and sat up. I expected his usual whining or manipulative cuteness, but instead, his lower lip just trembled slightly as those enormous blue eyes filled with tears. He looked utterly betrayed.
Without a word, he slid from the chair and trudged to my doorway, dropping dramatically onto the threshold. There he sat, hugging his knees, fixing me with a silent, wounded stare from those swimming blue eyes.
His gaze screamed accusations: "You heartless woman! The moment you're healed, you cast me aside! You used me and now you're abandoning me! You monster!"
His stare made my skin crawl, but I steeled myself, hardened my heart, and marched back into my room, slamming the door behind me. I couldn't waver—this was a matter of principle! If I didn't evict him today, tomorrow he'd be claiming my bed!
Yet I'd underestimated his persistence—or rather, his capacity for psychological warfare.
That night I slept fitfully. In the darkest hours, I jolted awake with the distinct sensation of being watched—a physical weight pressing on my face, sending ice through my veins.
I forced my eyes open, muscles rigid with dread.
The room lay in darkness except for pale moonlight filtering through the windows. In that ghostly illumination, I discovered a small figure in white silk perched at my bedside, watching me with unnatural stillness.
Frederick.
In the darkness, his blue eyes seemed to glow with unnatural brightness, like twin ghost-lights. He remained perfectly still and silent, wearing an "innocent" smile that, in the midnight gloom, achieved maximum horror-effect.
I nearly leapt from my skin, barely suppressing a scream as I clutched my blankets.
"F-Frederick!" I gasped, clutching my thundering heart. "Why aren't you asleep? What are you DOING sitting there in the dark?!"
He tilted his head, voice dripping with false innocence: "I was worried you might be scared sleeping alone, Teacher."
Like hell I believe you! You ARE the nightmare!
The next morning found me glaring at Frederick as he stretched and yawned in my courtyard, the picture of innocence, while I sported spectacular dark circles that could qualify as national monuments.
"Teacher, did you sleep well?" he chirped, skipping over to take my arm affectionately as if nothing had happened.
I ground my teeth so hard I could hear them cracking. "Per. Fect. Ly," I managed through clenched jaws.
So well that my blood pressure had reached record heights! So well that I was contemplating whether a second spanking might be worth the consequences!
Our psychological warfare continued for two solid weeks. I tried everything—cold shoulders, rational arguments, even desperate appeals to his royal siblings to reclaim him (they politely declined while thanking me for my "service"). Nothing worked. He was like gum stuck to my shoe—adorable but impossibly adhesive.
Finally, I surrendered. Slumped on a stone bench in defeat, I watched Frederick happily chasing butterflies with tiny water spells. As I observed him, my gamer memories began surfacing unbidden.
"According to the original storyline, Knight Commander Arthur should soon return to the capital with the female protagonist Anais, who's suffering from the 'Beast Curse.' They'll come to the Academy seeking treatment. That meeting between Arthur and Frederick is supposed to be their first encounter—a crucial early plot point."
I murmured, watching the child's energetic movements.
"But this timeline is completely wrong. A six-year-old villain? A twenty-year-old hero? How is this supposed to work? Are we heading for some bizarre drama where my love rival is in kindergarten?"
The more I pondered, the worse my headache grew. My future seemed even darker than the shadows beneath my sleep-deprived eyes.
