Became the Villainess’s Guardian

At the front gate of Cardiff School, Erine of the Keres Martop Trio spoke first while waiting.

“She must have been really excited to go.”

“She had such high expectations!”

Though there was no subject stated, they both knew who they were referring to.
Sithe had been the one bubbling with anticipation, claiming Freugne would buy souvenirs from the fairgrounds and practically jumping around.

“Ah, there she comes!”

“Freugne, did you have a good week… end?”

“Yes, it was fine.”

And the elated atmosphere Freugne had emanated when talking about visiting the magic fair was noticeably different from the last time they had seen her.

While she said she was alright, her half-dead eyes made it clear to even the usually oblivious Sithe that she was far from her usual self when her mind had been a blooming field of flowers until recently.

Uh, um, uh. Opening and closing their mouths, Sithe and Erine decided to pretend they had not noticed anything amiss.

Initially, they thought giving her some space would allow her to either recover or open up on her own.
However, Freugne’s condition only worsened past lunchtime, showing no signs of improvement.

While her sentences became slightly shorter when they spoke to her, she still answered them.
But the mere mention of the word “weekend” was enough to visibly darken her expression and make her bite her lip, a telling sign that Sithe and Erine were not entirely oblivious.

Sithe fidgeted, wondering if something serious had happened, while the observant Erine finally decided to broach the subject directly.

“Freugne.”

“……”

Whoosh!

“Did something happen?”

“No, nothing.”

Crackle!!

Freugne repeatedly struck a white-shirted dummy.
Her output was far inferior to Edan’s, and her range was shorter, but she nonetheless practiced with a tenacity that made even Sithe avert her gaze.

In magic classes, advanced students who could already wield magic were separated for self-study.
After all, it would be a waste of time for the water mages attuned to mana to be told to memorize fluid dynamics formulas they had already mastered.

In other words, this moment was essentially a private time for Freugne, Sithe, and Erine alone.
There was no better opportunity for them to engage in casual conversation without interruption.

“Um, do I seem a bit strange?”

“Yeah, you look really restless. To be honest, it’s pretty obvious.”

It was only after exerting herself to the point of sweating that Freugne finally sat down on a nearby chair.
Erine handed her a water bottle and took a seat beside her.

Just a day after the incident, while Edan was still confined to a hospital bed,
Freugne, unaware of the reason for her current state, had not yet found her composure.

“I’d like to say it’s nothing… but you’re right. I do have something on my mind.”

“If it’s alright with you, I could lend an ear?”

Freugne looked up to see Erine’s concerned gaze upon her.

Well, perhaps it would be better to openly confide in someone rather than continue wavering internally.
Would she really tell Ulr, Lord Norton, or even Chief Inspector Baldur about her worries? It was a matter she could only share with a friend of the same age.

Taking advantage of the rare opportunity to attend school and embrace her high school girl identity, Freugne spoke frankly.

“The empty dining table when preparing breakfast felt so unfamiliar.”

“Where was Mr. Edan?”

“Let’s assume he left for work early. In any case, I really disliked that silence and emptiness in those moments.”

So, what should she call this feeling?

“If he were to get injured during an experiment or something, I don’t think I could just stay still, and I worry about him getting hurt elsewhere and not returning later on.”

“I see.”

“Sometimes I even think it might be better to just keep him close by and under surveillance.”

Unable to directly mention Edan being shot at the fairgrounds, Freugne spoke in a roundabout way.
After listening silently, Erine, finding it a relatively trivial concern, relaxed and responded:

“That’s love, isn’t it?”

“Wh-what, no no?! It’s because he’s like a father to me! Like a father!”

For the first time, Freugne displayed a girlish reaction.
Waiting for the frantically gesticulating Freugne to calm down, Erine continued:

“But he is like a father, isn’t he? Familial love.”

“…Ah, familial love. Yes, I suppose so. Anyway.”

It was a feeling Erine herself often experienced as well.

Whenever she saw her aunt getting drunk while lamenting the Martop’s poor management, she too felt worried, wanting to console her, and wondering if she was eating properly whenever she pulled an all-nighter due to some major issue.
Was it not only natural for someone filling the parental role to become a special existence?

‘Ah, but keeping him close by?’

This part was a slightly unfamiliar concept for Erine.

However, just as there were as many different personalities as there were people in the world.
Rather than dwelling on it further, she simply dismissed it as a matter of individual differences and moved on.

“It’s a natural phenomenon, so you don’t need to dwell on it too much.”

“Natural…”

“I sometimes feel that way towards our aunt too. Don’t you ever feel a sense of alienation when you don’t pay attention to her from time to time?”

“Yes, I suppose so.”

Murmuring the word for a moment, Freugne soon raised her head.
Seeing her expression brighter than before, Erine felt relieved.

Yes, it was only natural.
Edan, who had caused her such worry, bore some responsibility as well!

With this conviction, Freugne took action.

Following the police, a succession of prominent figures became embroiled in the scandal, parading through the parliamentary hearings as if it were their own home.
Day by day, Parliament erupted in flames, and those with any proximity to power promptly sensed the ominous atmosphere and retreated of their own accord.

However, even the most enduring concerns eventually reach their end.
The catalyst occurred at the Londinium Stock Exchange, located a short distance downstream from the river adjacent to the Parliament Building.

A space overflowing with a fervor distinct from Parliament’s day-to-day public executions.

“Five minutes until the opening bell. Prepare the charts and brokers! The time has come for the heroic moneymakers to amass foreign currencies.”

“Just strutting around by yourself, huh? As if this is a one-day or two-day affair. It’ll rise again today, as always.”

“Indeed. The era of great prosperity is upon us! Not a mere bubble, but the dawn of the new economy!”

From the exchange’s second floor, Freugne observed the frenzied tide of investors.

Boldly skipping her weekday morning classes and leaving her proxy attendance to Sithe,
who had fretted, “Huehek, can I really do this…?”, Freugne needed to personally confirm the final moment on site.

For Freugne, this was a matter of considerable tension.
Thanks to her preoccupation, she had failed to notice Edan taking only an empty lunchbox, and it was not until lunchtime that he belatedly realized and vented his frustration on the hapless Freyja for living such a life.

And at that very moment,
Freugne, striving to appear calm, asked Lord Norton:

“Are the preparations complete?”

“I have done everything within my power.”

“Good.”

The lord, witnessing the same spectacle, did not bother asking if she was certain, or what would happen if she was wrong.

He had borrowed from his distant relatives and even put his estate up as collateral to amass every available capital.
Like a pufferfish inflating itself as a threat display, he had temporarily bulked up. All that remained was a brief wait.

While well aware that if this choice proved wrong, he would be among the countless individuals forced to take to the streets from tomorrow, having already boarded the same ship, it was a question that offered little solace.

If Freugne, or someone behind her, had truly intended to ruin the lives of Norton Investment’s employees, there were far more efficient methods than this roundabout economic ruin.

Not to mention, simply instructing Chief Inspector Baldur… or was it Superintendent now?
In any case, having Baldur unleash his hounds to arrest them all on various charges would have been a surer way to upend their lives, would it not?

Lord Norton had trusted the astounding efficiency Freugne had demonstrated thus far.
He dared not imagine that today would be the sole exception to that efficiency.

“Do you have nothing else to ask? No queries or suggestions?”

“No, nothing.”

For the past two years,
Norton Investment’s portfolio had been remarkably stellar.

Yet to most people, it was still only perceived as a decent investment firm, nothing more.
While their performance had been outstanding, in this era of prosperity where everyone was raking in fortunes, it inevitably paled in comparison.

Above all, survival was the truest measure of strength.
Competing against other firms that had endured for decades, there was bound to be a gap in capital and trust alike.

No matter how many nouveau riche upstarts banded together to establish a company, it was impossible to bridge the mere two-year gap with those spanning decades.
Rather, the mere fact that they had maintained their business in the infamous capitalist savanna of Londinium could be considered a commendable achievement worthy of applause.

“It’s time.”

However, Freugne had no intention of settling for this.
After confirming the immediate future through Lord Norton, Freugne let out a small sigh.

Thus, at summer’s end,
when even the last remaining pessimists had wagered their entire fortunes on a rosy future,

“We shall go short.”

Norton Investment alone took the opposing stance against all others.

“Wh-what?”
“What’s happening?”
“Oh Lord, oh Lord!!”

As if waiting for the moment no one could have foreseen, panic descended upon Londinium.

Lord Norton became the golden god in that instant.