It took me an embarrassingly long time to realize that Margaery was flirting with me.
Actually, I still wasn't sure.
Sue me—I wasn't used to it.
Thankfully, we reached Winterfell before things escalated, and I made up an excuse to sneak away after a quick goodbye.
I headed straight to the clinic, surprised to find no line of patients. Fenrir was dozing in his usual spot, but the main area was empty. I heard Freya's voice coming from the new extension I had added to the clinic, and it hit me—class was in session.
I was late.
To my own class.
The one I was supposed to teach.
In the school I had created.
Where I was technically the headmaster.
Damn it, this had to be some sort of curse.
I quickly composed myself and silently made my way around the back.
I didn't want to interrupt Freya's first lecture.
She was probably mad enough at me already.
Damn, she looked pretty hot being serious and teaching. I should get her a pair of those strict teacher glasses.
She was explaining the basics of human biology, and I was impressed by the detailed drawing she was using. It must have taken her a long time to create because it was far beyond anything I could manage.
My drawing skills were as atrocious as my handwriting.
Even with superhuman dexterity, I couldn't fix that.
All my notes looked like a serial killer's ramblings.
I blamed it on the damn quill. God, I would kill someone for a decent pen.
Wait a minute, while I couldn't get a ballpoint pen made, I could definitely get an ink pen crafted.
I knew how it worked; it was quite simple, honestly. I just needed to get a design sent to the blacksmith. No, wait—it was a delicate task. Did Winterfell have a jeweler? I would have to find out.
Anyway, that was a thought for later. I was getting distracted.
I turned my attention back to the lesson being taught.
It was just basic introductory stuff: the names of different organs in the body and a simple explanation of their functionalities.
I still remember the day I tried to teach Freya about human anatomy. As smart as she was, my lousy drawings couldn't help her visualize the complexity of the human body.
So, I decided to create different organs. When Freya didn't freak out and run away, I got a little carried away and started creating and assembling all the organs like a gruesome and bloody Lego set.
It wasn't until I was creating the brain that I realized what the hell I was doing. I stopped just in time, looking at the human form I had created before adding the skin.
Thankfully, I hadn't made the actual brain yet. Instead, I created a replica that was just muscle tissue made to look like a brain and made sure to dissolve everything into biomass thoroughly as soon as the lesson was over.
Something told me that if I had gone through with my little self-induced experiment, I wouldn't have liked the results. So, I decided I wasn't going to try that again for a long time.
I sat at the very back of the class I had created by buying the two shops next door.
They were more than happy to sell them for the absurd amount of gold I had paid.
It wasn't like they were bad people, but they probably hadn't expected me to just agree to the first number they threw out. They definitely weren't expecting me to offer double if they packed up and left by the next day.
Which they were more than happy to do.
I don't know why I was acting like that. Maybe it was the first chance I had to use a significant chunk of the money I had earned.
Being the only competent magic doctor on the continent was a lucrative business, even though I offered my services dirt cheap.
Actually, most of it was Freya's, as she had treated far more patients than I had by now.
One day I'll convince her to take her share. Until then, most of it would be sealed up in a safe under the clinic.
I was sure someone would be stupid enough to try and break in one day, despite Fenrir guarding the clinic most of the time. Well, he slept most of the time, but it was almost impossible to sneak past him.
Speaking of sneaking in...
I scanned the classroom and quickly found who I was looking for. He wasn't hard to spot, being the only male student there.
He was engrossed in the lesson, a far cry from the terrified kid I first encountered.
It was quite a funny sequence of events. I was lounging around the clinic when Fenrir returned, only a few minutes after leaving. I had hoped he had gone to hunt or something.
Instead, he came back with a kid in tow.
That was strange enough, but what made it even odder was the kid's terrified expression. He didn't make a sound as Fenrir carried him by the back of his shirt, like a giant cat carrying a kitten.
Fenrir gently set the kid down in front of me and promptly went back to sleep.
The bizarre scene snapped me out of my daze.
I immediately checked the kid for any injuries. I doubted Fenrir would traumatize a child for no reason.
I checked the kid over and found nothing life-threatening or needing immediate attention, except for one small detail.
He didn't have a tongue.
Not that he was born without one; it had been very cleanly cut off and healed when he was very young.
This kid wasn't just any random child; he was one of Varys' little birds.
Things started making more sense when I saw the book he was hiding behind his back.
The kid looked almost resigned to his fate when I discovered it.
By then, quite a crowd had gathered, and I didn't want to scare him any further, so I gently guided him into the clinic.
"Okay, kid, you don't need to be scared. I'm not gonna hurt you. I know who sent you. I doubt you had much say in the matter."
"But you still tried to steal from me, and you need to pay for that. So here's the deal: you work for me now. You tell me everything you know about Varys and his network of little birds. In exchange, I will heal your tongue."
It took him a few seconds to comprehend what I was saying but after he understood he didn't waste a second, nodding vigorously.
So I healed his tongue and asked, "Okay then, first thing: who were you supposed to pass the book to? Because I doubt you were supposed to make your way back with it yourself."
The kid tried to talk but only managed some incoherent gibberish.
Oh, right—just because he had his tongue back didn't mean he knew how to speak.
I went to my desk, grabbed some parchment, and handed it to the kid.
He started writing down everything he knew, and I discovered that the kid didn't have any specific instructions beyond dropping off the book behind an inn and waiting for further directions.
I doubted I could get my hands on his handler, who probably bolted as soon as the kid got caught. It had been quite a public scene, and I wasn't in the mood to hunt him down.
"Okay, so here's what you're going to do: I'm going to get someone to teach you how to speak, and then you, along with that person, are going to teach a bunch of kids how to read and write."
And just like that, I hired my first intern and handed him off to Tyrion, who would teach him how to speak. He could then teach the rest of the kids to read and write.
God, I loved being in charge. It was so nice being able to pass off work I didn't want to do.
I snapped out of my thoughts and looked at the rest of the class.
I saw Sansa sitting with one of her handmaidens, Jenny something, paying close attention.
I also noticed two more faces that seemed out of place. It was almost impossible to find anyone with that complexion in the North. I would ask Freya about them later.
Oh fuck, the lesson was almost done.
Why does this keep happening to me? First, I was really late to a class I was supposed to teach in a school I had created. Then I spent half the time ogling the teacher and the rest daydreaming.
I kept myself hidden at the back of the class, waiting until all the students had slowly filed out. Just as I was about to surprise her, she spoke up.
"I know you're there. Why are you hiding?"
"Um, instinct, I guess. You sound quite mad at me."
"I am. You said you'd be back two days ago."
"I'm really sorry. I got caught up in something I couldn't leave unfinished."
"You missed the first class. The only one you were supposed to teach." Freya crossed her arms, clearly unimpressed.
"I know, I know. I'll make it up to you. How about I teach the next two classes?" I pleaded earnestly.
She sighed, her frustration softening just a bit. "No, it's fine. You can help with teaching the next class. I asked for this anyway, and I have a feeling you'd just traumatize the kids or go off on some random tangent too complicated to understand."
"Whatever you say, ma'am." I said with a little salute.
"By the way, I saw a few unfamiliar faces in the class today. Who were they?"
"They're Prince Martell's daughters. They were thinking of enrolling and wanted to sit in on the first lesson before making a final decision. They paid quite a generous amount just to sit in on the first class."
"Wait, the Martells are here already?" I asked, surprised.
She sighed. "Yes, that was another thing you were supposed to be here for. They've been to the clinic almost every day now."
"Is it Oberyn or Doran?"
"It's Oberyn. His brother has gout and is unable to make long journeys."
"Huh, I just ran into the Tyrells on my way back to Winterfell. That means there's quite a huge collection of nobility gathered here. They all want something from me, and I guess there will be a feast of some sort at the castle tonight. I kinda feel bad for Ned."
"Well, I'll worry about all that stuff later. Have I had the chance to mention how absolutely irresistible you look all dressed up as a strict teacher?"
She blushed but then smiled coyly at me. "Is that any way to talk to your teacher, mister?"
It was my turn to be surprised before a grin spread across my face. "I guess I need to learn some manners, then. Can you teach me?"
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A/N: Hey guys, sorry about the late update. I was moving and had an interview to panic about, so…