Baby Squirrel Is Good at Everything

“Damn it, damn it! Fuck!”

While everyone else was out securing Tuberossum to replace the military provisions, Count Zelot paced furiously inside his office, biting his lips in frustration.

“All the careful planning—!”

Bang!

Unable to contain his anger, the count slammed his fist down onto the desk.

The ever-present smile he usually wore was completely gone, replaced by a twisted expression.

Fucking hell! That tiny little brat of a princess ruined everything!

Grinding his teeth, his once composed demeanor was nowhere to be seen.

At that moment, the communication sphere on his desk flickered to life.

Blink. Blink.

The repeatedly flashing light indicated an incoming transmission.

Unlike the one belonging to the Duke—who was still away on the battlefield—this one gleamed with a mix of green and yellow light.

“……”

It was a call from them, likely requesting a report.

After a brief pause, Count Zelot seemed to come to a decision.

Swoosh.

Instead of answering the communication device, he grabbed the cloak he had tossed onto the chair beside him.

Without so much as a glance at the blinking sphere, he turned his back on it and stormed out of the office.

* * *

“Ah! My lord!”

As Count Zelot hurried down the corridor, he unexpectedly ran into a group of people who had returned to the castle to retrieve more gathering tools.

“You’ve worked hard today!”

“When we spoke earlier, you seemed really worried, my lord, but…”

“Thanks to the young lady’s advice, we’ve got Tuberossum everywhere! We don’t have to worry about provisions anymore.”

Their cheerful faces twisted his insides.

Hearing them praise her intelligence as they chattered amongst themselves only made his frustration grow.

Among them, an older nobleman clasped Count Zelot’s hand, patting it as if to console him.

“You’ve worked hard, Count Zelot.”

“A-Ah, no, not at all.”

Caught off guard by the unexpected contact, the count flinched before forcing himself into a humble demeanor.

“Well, given how urgent the war situation is… His Grace, the Duke, and all the retainers capable of anything have been sent to the front lines.”

“……”

“That left you to handle everything back here with limited manpower. It must have been exhausting. I understand completely.”

“…You flatter me.”

“When His Grace returns, I’ll be sure to tell him just how hard you worked to protect his home!”

The old noble laughed heartily, full of confidence.

But the next thing he said made Count Zelot’s face freeze solid.

“Just hold on a little longer. His Grace will be back soon, and then you’ll be able to lay down the heavy burden of your acting lordship.”

For a split second, Count Zelot’s face twisted into something ugly.

“And with that, your suffering will finally come to an end, my lord! Hahaha!”

“…Hahaha… ha…”

Forcing a laugh, the count turned and walked away.

Step. Step.

Once he was out of sight, he pulled out a handkerchief and roughly wiped his hand, scrubbing it as if the old noble’s touch had soiled him.

Crunch.

Then, as if even the handkerchief itself disgusted him, he threw it onto the floor and stomped on it.

“Fucking hell…!”

His muttered curse was low and venomous, his expression twisting with rage.

* * *

Meanwhile—

In an extravagantly decorated chamber, its walls nearly buried under layers of gold leaf, a woman idly tapped her nail against the glowing green-gold communication sphere before suddenly stopping.

“…By now, I should have heard some good news.”

Swoosh.

As she withdrew her hand, the sleeve of her gown—intricately embroidered with golden thread—billowed elegantly.

And yet…

“Not only does he ignore my messages, but he dares to refuse a call from the royal family?”

Clack!@@novelbin@@

To contain her brewing rage, she slammed the armrest of her chair, its frame carved from rare redwood, and stood up.

“This will not do.”

Click, click, click.

Adorned in pearl-studded heels, she strode forward, stopping before a servant who stood with their head bowed low.

“I praised him for handling a few minor tasks, and now it seems the hunting dog has forgotten its place.”

“……”

Her servant, sensing the veiled threat, remained silent, their face subtly stiff with fear.

Satisfied with the reaction, the woman issued a command.

“You will go and see to it personally.”

Tap.

Snapping her fan shut, she lifted the servant’s chin with it.

“This time… you won’t fail me, will you?”

Her gaze was sharp as a serpent’s, locking onto her subordinate’s face as she spoke a name in warning.

“Pirina Syurus.”

The face that had once screamed furiously as Beatty escaped from the capital estate—

The very same face that had cursed her niece’s existence—

Now reflected in the royal woman’s golden fan.

“…Yes, Your Majesty.”

* * *

Chirp, chirp.

The sound of morning birdsong stirred Beatty awake.

“Ah! My lady, you’re up?”

Having spent her first night at the ducal estate, Beatty barely had a moment to process her surroundings before being swarmed by maids.

Her face was wiped with perfectly warmed water, and she was quickly whisked away—not to the dressing room she had seen last night, but to an entirely different room.

“Now, my lady, which dress would you like to wear today?”

“How about this chiffon one? The soft, milk-colored fabric would suit you perfectly!”

“No, no! Look at this one, my lady! This dress has layers of white lace as delicate as your own cheeks—”

“Not enough! To truly bring out your adorable charm, it has to be this red satin dress—”

“Uh… uh…”

Dresses everywhere.

On this side, on that side.

The sheer waves of dresses made Beatty dizzy.

“Oh! This sky blue—it’s practically made for you, my lady!”

“No, look at this one! Ahh! You’re so adorable in yellow! You could pass for a chick beastkin!”

“Move aside—yes! This blue one! This shade was born for our lady to wear!”

Watching them enthusiastically shove one outfit after another onto her, Beatty’s thoughts turned grim.

‘…Is this bullying?’

Was this some sort of hazing ritual?

Because the avalanche of dresses did not stop.

“She’s too cute!”

“Oh no…! Her overwhelming cuteness just took my breath away!”

“My goodness, even with those bewildered round eyes, she’s still adorable!”

The maids never stopped repeating the word “cute” over and over.

Beatty, thoroughly confused, pondered:

‘Do they… even know what ‘cute’ means?’

Thinking back to the times she had heard the word before—

“Heh heh heh. Such cute little things.”

That was what the capital estate’s butler had said while counting gold coins.

“Oh, this is cute.”

That was what the capital estate’s maids had said while stuffing small valuables into their pockets.

From these memories, Beatty deduced:

‘“Cute” is… used to describe something valuable that belongs to someone.’

The more gold it contained, the higher its cuteness level.

At the very least, it was never a word meant for people.

“……”

After some thought, Beatty cautiously spoke.

“Um… I belong to myself, though.”

She had meant to clear up any misunderstandings before things escalated—

But suddenly, the maids gasped in shock.

And then—

“KYYYAAAH!”

“Oh my goodness!”

“That’s right! Of course!”

“Our lady belongs only to herself!”

“Ahh! Too adorable…!”

Even the maid who wobbled as if overcome with dizziness.

“Where did you learn to say something like that?”

“Well done! If any rude men dare to speak to you, just say that and chase them away immediately!”

The maids, who had been chattering non-stop, suddenly praised her and even gave her some rather questionable advice.

Something feels off…

Changing clothes should not be this exhausting.

After what felt like a full-blown war, a decision was finally reached—the dress for the day would be a navy-blue satin gown.

The fabric feels really soft.

Curious, Beatty ran her fingers over the smooth folds of the skirt.

She was just about to head toward the dining hall when—

“U-um, Lady Beatty.”

Just as she was about to step out, a maid with beige-colored hair hesitantly called out to her.

“…Thank you.”

“?”

Beatty blinked in confusion.

Seeing her puzzled expression, the maid quickly explained.

“Oh, my fiancé is a soldier. When I saw the warehouse on fire yesterday, I was so worried…”

Her eyes clouded slightly as if recalling the moment of helplessness, but then—she smiled brightly.

“But you solved the problem, my lady.”

“……”

“I saw it just now—the supply wagons are completely full! Even if my fiancé were a pig, he couldn’t eat through all of that!”

Oink, oink.

The maid playfully imitated a pig, as if trying to make her laugh.

“Thanks to you, I can finally sleep peacefully tonight.”

Her smile was wide, stretching all the way to her eyes.