Became the Villainess’s Guardian

It wasn’t just the police, but investors, prominent magicians, and even palace owners.
As the cool autumn began, anonymous letters were delivered to figures across various strata of Londinium’s society.

From the outset, Freugne did not reveal anything groundbreaking.
Showing all her cards immediately would leave her with nothing to sustain herself later. Moreover, blindly trusting the words of an unfamiliar stranger would disqualify them as a potential collaborator.

“Teacher, an unmarked letter has arrived.”

“Is that so? Who sent it?”

“Well, the sender is blank.”

“I suppose the contents won’t be particularly nourishing either. Let me take a look… As I thought, just baseless persuasion drivel.”

Thus, most of the letters Freugne had painstakingly penned with varying handwriting met the same fate as this era’s spam mail – the fireplace.

Few had even bothered committing the contents to memory.
If they had simply framed it as an example of such unproductive activities, it might have passed for art. Let alone the handful who had seriously acknowledged the dozens of letters.

And yet, there were professions that could not readily dismiss such reports.

“Superintendent.”

“Yes?”

“A letter has arrived addressed to you, sir.”

Baldor was a perpetual superintendent with the Londinium Metropolitan Police Department.

After opening the envelope and examining the contents, he let out a brief sigh and handed it to his subordinate.
Having swiftly skimmed the terse letter, the subordinate inquired, “A false report, sir?”

“Likely.”

“Shall we attempt to trace the sender?”

“Unless it’s a repeat offender, there’s hardly a need to go through such trouble for a trivial matter. We’re far too busy for such trivialities.”

His stubbornness in remaining a superintendent was precisely the issue.

Turn a blind eye, make some compromises with the world.
The path to promotion only opened by pretending not to see injustice, and at times, pretending to see what didn’t exist.

“Then shall we dispose of this?”

“No. It would be wise to dispatch a few officers to look into it, just in case.”

“But if it’s a false report?”

“Nevertheless, just to be certain.”

“Understood.”

Yet it was that very stubbornness that prevented him from dismissing it outright.
He had proceeded exactly as Freugne had foreseen by prying into his children’s lives and glimpsing the future.

As time passed and what had initially seemed a one-off event kept recurring with more strange reports arriving for Superintendent Baldor,
The spam-treated letters rapidly elevated from having dubious credibility to suspiciously prophetic tomes containing nothing but the truth.

And this was not a realization limited to just Superintendent Baldor, but an unconscious awareness gradually taking root among certain other Londinium residents as well.

East Londinium.
Edan’s house in the central downtown area.

With Edan frequenting the palace daily except for Sundays, he could hardly attend to household chores.
He had occasionally hired help for cleaning and laundry, so there had been no major issues in that regard. As a tenant, Freugne had no particular grievances.

However, there was one aspect even she could not overlook.

“Tonight’s dinner is-”

“Oh.”

“Fried anchovy toast mix.”

“Ugh…?”

Edan.
Could not cook to save his life.

This was on par with, or even inferior to, the meals from Freugne’s orphanage days before Edan’s sponsorship.
It wasn’t an issue of ingredient quality, and as the inventor, he had even afforded the luxury of installing a refrigerator in his home before anyone else.

If she had been in dire straits with no choice but to accept whatever came her way, she might have begrudgingly stomached it. But with perfectly good ingredients and facilities available, this was unacceptable.
Even objectively speaking, despite not having had the smoothest of childhoods herself, this exceeded the threshold of what she could resignedly consume.
Occasionally, he would produce decent fare like sandwiches that should be an absolute minimum for any person, but having to spin the gacha lever for every meal… wasn’t that a bit much?

“From now on, I’ll handle dinner preparations.”

“Ah, but tonight I’ve prepared a fresh, delicious eggplant soup-”

“I can take care of the groceries if needed.”

This had been a foretold catastrophe.

Whether by choice or circumstance, Edan had subsisted his entire life on a three-item cycle of bread, oatmeal, and pea soup. Amazingly, this seemed to be common household fare.
It wasn’t that he lacked decent recipes, but the moment his dream of becoming an otherworldly burger chef was eclipsed by fried anchovy toast, he seemed to have realized his lack of culinary talent and abandoned the endeavor.
And in a misguided attempt to assert adult dignity, he had grabbed a frying pan for the first time in his life, inevitably resulting in a disastrous outcome.
When living alone, he could simply pick whichever from the three-item cycle. But out of good intentions, he could not subject the growing Freugne to such an ordeal.

Having thus assumed control of the kitchen, Freugne decided she might as well handle dinner too, since she had been taking care of her own lunches.
Edan seemed to want to protest about ‘losing patronage authority’ or ‘damaging his self-esteem’, but ultimately remained silent – the gulf between his self-destructive cooking and the current dinner fare was simply too vast.

And yet, this situation seemed to portray an uncannily…
Domestic scene of bidding him farewell for work in the mornings and welcoming him home to a prepared meal in the evenings.

‘No, no.’

Before any strange thoughts could arise, Freugne vigorously shook her head.
She was merely commuting from home for the sake of monitoring Edan. It held no deeper significance.

“Should we just hire a housekeeper?”

“…No.”

Her refusal was simply…
To avoid any constraints on her movements at home or variables hindering her plans while she was present. Truly.

In any case, the altered living arrangements were not the only changes.

If all her glimpses into Edan’s future merely consisted of conversations like, “I see. Given those circumstances, this course of action would be appropriate. However, certain matters must be left unspoken……” she would have gone mad from frustration.

While the past could alter the future, the future could not change the past.
Even if she belatedly provided a thorough explanation only when Edan aimed a gun at her, the reality would hardly shift.

“Paper delivery-”

“Ah, I’ll get it.”

Thus, she decided to approach her precognitive ability differently.
Freugne retrieved the newspaper the delivery boy had tossed onto the doorstep. As she made her way to the dining table, she lightly skimmed the headlines.

Later, when Edan pointed a gun at her, she might resemble a third-rate villain recounting her backstory like, “The reason for this? Good question! You see, back when I was in the East End, I had truly achieved my dream of becoming a regular employee at the Brian Textile Factory-” but it was still preferable to repeatedly stumbling blindly into the future.

In any case, the result of cultivating this habit was:

“I’ll tell you about what happened today.”

“There’s no need to share all your personal matters.”

“But reporting my situation to my patron is only natural, is it not?”

“Well, you’re not wrong, but……”

“Then first, the results for last week’s exam were released, you see-”

Freugne had become a chatterbox character.
Of course, she remained quiet and demure at school. This persona only emerged around Edan.

As the person she would interact with most frequently and glimpse the future of, it made sense.
While some school friends might gradually drift apart as they grew older, Edan would be a constant presence she would continue facing. In short, it was a matter of efficiency.

In any case.
It had been around half a year since she had sown the seeds across Londinium.
The recipients should have received their letters by now, and verification efforts should have progressed to a certain extent.

It was gradually time to advance to the next stage of her plan.
And the timing for that would be determined not by her, but by Edan himself.

Sure enough, around the midpoint of the new semester, during the still-cool spring,

“Freugne, have a seat here.”

Edan spoke in an unusually grave tone on a lazy weekend morning.

“There’s something I wish to discuss with you.”

By now, over a year had passed since Freugne had begun living under the same roof as Edan.
And after such a duration, certain patterns in daily life inevitably became established.

Perhaps a habit carried over from school, Freugne would tune in to the 7 AM news every morning at the dining table, newspaper in hand.

“Apparently, a group of around ten intruders broke into a chemical factory in West Londinium last night. It seems they intended to dismantle the equipment and sell it to a palace.”

“Is that so? And what became of them?”

“The police were waiting, so they were all successfully apprehended. An anonymous tipster must have leaked the information.”

After briefly covering current affairs, it became my turn.

“How have you been lately, mister? Anything of note happen?”

“Same as usual. The performance this winter quarter wasn’t too bad either. Air conditioner sales dipped a bit due to seasonal factors, but revenue still came in from refrigerators and other palace electronics.”

“I see.”

“But why the curiosity about this?”

“My apologies, I shouldn’t have asked…?”

“No, it’s not that.”

My work routine, happenings at the palace, the inner workings of the magic industry, and so on.
While she might have preferred sensationalized tabloid fodder filtered through the yellow press at her age, Freugne peculiarly asked about these rather mundane topics concerning me.

Perhaps it was a hobby she had picked up from me. I had developed a slight interest in world affairs, wondering when signs of ruin might manifest.

In any case, it wasn’t an undesirable change, so I left it be.

“Freugne, what are your thoughts on betrayal?”

“Huh, what?!”

Freugne flailed in bewilderment, like a Snow White who had awakened to true love’s kiss only to learn it was a limited-time deal.
Then, for some reason, she cautiously asked while gauging my reaction.

“Um, perhaps an example?”

“How did you feel when I said I was leaving work early to buy something delicious, but actually ended up working overtime instead?”

“…? I was looking forward to it.”

Behold this pure soul.

There were no signs of the precipitating factors for a dark fall, nor any inclinations towards betraying humanity.
She was simply leading an obedient school life, with no apparent avenues for such malice to take root.

While I had not anticipated this initially when taking Freugne in, I now viewed her potential for betraying humanity as an entirely separate person.

Thus, I felt I could entrust her with some responsibilities.

“As you know, I recently established a charitable organization under my name.”

“Yes, I’m aware.”

“It’s to aid children lacking opportunities, much like you once did.”

As a recipient of patronage herself, Freugne would well understand the significance of such words.

“I believe you, having trodden that path first, understand the importance and necessity better than anyone, and can properly guide those who will follow.”

“I’m grateful for your faith in me.”

“Thus, as your patron, I have a request to make of you.”

Among those around me, she was the only one I deemed capable of responsibly and reliably handling such a task.
I did not doubt my judgment of her character, given the time we had spent together.

“If you have spare time, I would appreciate if you could assist the children newly enrolling in school to help them adapt.”

“…Very well, I’ll gladly do so.”

Freugne nodded in agreement.