[POV Liselotte]

The mirror in my room reflected the image of a stranger.

I ran a hand through my hair, which now bore a dull jet-black color, dyed with an herbal potion Elliot had provided. The vibrant emerald green that once marked my identity had vanished beneath the veneer of normality. I tightened the straps of a heavy suit of plate armor—dull steel, unadorned, without engravings or filigree—that added a crude bulk to my figure. The Seal of the Eternal Guardian was hidden beneath the breastplate, pulsing against my chest like a secret shared with the metal.

When I lifted the giant shield—a wall of reinforced steel that weighed nearly as much as a grown man—and sheathed a standard infantry broadsword at my side, I felt my identity dissolve.

I was no longer the Princess’s Guardian, the ice mage who challenged generals.

Now I was Guard 402, an iron shadow meant to blend into the academy’s stone landscape.

“You’re unrecognizable, Lotte,” Leah whispered from the bed, watching me with a mixture of fascination and sadness. “If I didn’t know it was you from the way you breathe, I would swear my guardian truly left for the forest with Chloé.”

“That’s the idea,” I replied, lowering my helmet’s visor. My voice sounded metallic and distant. “If the traitor believes you’re unprotected, they’ll make a mistake. And I’ll be there to carve it into the ice.”

The day passed with suffocating monotony.

I accompanied Leah to her strategy and noble law classes, but this time I did not sit beside her. Instead, I stood at the back of the room against the cold wall, my shield resting on the floor and my hand on the sword’s pommel. My muscles, accustomed to the mobility of leather, protested beneath the weight of the plates, but I forced myself to remain still.

From my position I observed the students.

My eyes, hidden behind the slit of my visor, scanned every face, every whisper, every furtive glance toward the princess’s seat.

Leah performed perfectly. Her face displayed a calculated melancholy, a feigned vulnerability that attracted vultures the way blood attracts sharks.

Lunchtime arrived.

The academy’s central courtyard was filled with students attempting to maintain a façade of normality beneath the midday sun. Leah walked toward a stone table where the group of heroes already waited.

“Princess, any news from the front—or from Liselotte?” Julian, the Shield Hero, asked with genuine concern.

“Nothing yet, Julian,” Leah answered softly, lowering her gaze to her plate. “I only hope the Whispering Forest is not as terrible as the chronicles claim.”

Mizuki, seated across from her, frowned. Her eyes drifted toward me—the anonymous guard standing three meters away—but she saw nothing beyond cold steel. Still, I noticed her tense; her Terra instincts, sharpened by fifty years of training, seemed to sense a disturbance in the air.

As they spoke quietly, the atmosphere in the courtyard began to thicken.

Slowly, almost casually, a group of senior students started to surround the table.

They were not ordinary students.

Each wore embroidered silk cloaks marking them as members of the most influential noble families of Whirikal—families whose patriarchs had marched to war beside King William… or had voiced their dissatisfaction in the council hall just yesterday.

I tensed inside my armor.

My hand closed around the edge of my shield.

Killing intent began to seep from me involuntarily, an invisible current of cold that caused the grass at my feet to wither beneath a microscopic layer of frost.

There were about twelve of them.

They moved with the arrogance that only lineage and resentment can grant.

At the center of the group, a broad-shouldered young man with perfectly combed brown hair stepped forward. His dark eyes carried undisguised contempt.

I recognized him immediately.

Varek of House Valerius—the eldest son of the Duke who yesterday had proposed burning the forest with all the soldiers inside.

House Valerius had a long history of friction with the crown. They had always believed their bloodline older and purer than that of the current monarchy.

“Well, it seems the royal table is a little empty today,” Varek said, his voice dripping with velvet poison. “Where is your green shadow, Leah? Or did she finally realize dying for a lost cause in a rotten forest wasn’t worth it?”

Leah raised her gaze, her eyes igniting with the fire I loved so much.

“Liselotte is fulfilling her duty, Varek. Something you and your friends seem to have forgotten while hiding behind these academy walls.”

Low mocking laughter rippled among the nobles.

Arthur and Cedric, the heroes, began to rise, but Julian placed a hand on their shoulders, urging restraint.

“Duty is a relative concept when the crown sends our fathers to die in the north while keeping the treasure here,” Varek replied, stepping closer to Leah and invading her personal space. “My father says King William has gone mad, chasing demonic ghosts and neglecting the supply lines. And now he sends his best warrior away. Don’t you feel… unprotected, princess? With only these ‘foreigners’ and a rusty iron guard watching over you?”

Varek cast a disdainful glance at me.

He did not realize he was looking death in the eyes.

Behind the visor, my gaze was an abyss of ice.

My killing intent thickened until the air around the table began to tremble. The lesser nobles in Varek’s group shifted uneasily, shivering without knowing why.

“Remove your hand from that table, Varek,” I said.

My voice, filtered through the helmet, sounded like the cracking of a glacier.

It was not Lotte’s voice.

It was a metallic growl that made the young noble flinch.

Varek turned toward me, recovering his arrogance after a moment’s hesitation.

“A mere guard dares speak to me like that? Do you know who I am? I am a Valerius. My family could buy your life and the lives of your entire bloodline before sunset.”

“I don’t care who you are,” I replied, stepping forward.

The weight of my armor made the stone slab beneath my feet vibrate.

“Take a step back. Now.”

The tension reached a breaking point.

Mizuki stared at me with wide eyes, as if beginning to recognize the mana pressure leaking from the seams of my armor.

If Varek made a single wrong move, my blade would be at his throat before he could blink—revealing my disguise and ruining Elliot’s plan.

But I didn’t know if the traitor was here.

Varek seemed little more than a noisy pup, a tool of destabilization.

Leah rose to her feet, maintaining a regal composure that chilled the blood of the attackers.

“Varek, leave. Now. If you disrespect my guests or the guards of Whirikal again, I will personally see your lineage thrown into the dungeons of the lower city—with or without your father’s permission.”

Varek clenched his teeth, glancing from Leah to me.

The cold emanating from my armor had become unbearable to those nearby.

I knew I was losing control—but the thought of him standing so close to her stirred a fury that Edward Celium would never have restrained.

“This isn’t over, Princess,” Varek spat, signaling his group. “Enjoy your lunch while you can. The shadows in the forest are nothing compared to the ones growing inside these walls.”

The nobles withdrew, pushing through the silent students watching the scene.

Leah sat down again, releasing a long breath while her hands trembled slightly beneath the table.

“Thank you, soldier,” she said, her voice heavy with a meaning only I understood.

I nodded beneath the helmet and returned to my place against the wall.

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