Baby Squirrel Is Good at Everything

Those dogs.

The guard dogs that had chased her down every time she tried to escape the annex.

The same beasts that had sunk their teeth into her neck and shaken her violently.

Beatty could still remember the savage sensation of being bitten.

"Go on, my dears. Greet my niece."

"I need to let them get her scent in advance. That way, if she tries to run again, they can track her down easily."

As long as she successfully delivered her niece back to the capital, Pirina would never again let her slip away so easily.

Determined, she urged the dogs forward.

"…!"

Beatty’s eyes widened.

Her breath caught in her throat, but she couldn’t look away.

If she so much as averted her gaze, she feared they would lunge at her neck.

"My, my."

Pirina’s eyes gleamed with amusement as she observed Beatty’s frozen state.

"Are you trembling? How pitiful."

Despite her words, there was a distinct amusement in her tone. She chuckled softly.

"Don't worry. These darlings are well-trained. They won’t bite without my command."

Emphasizing the phrase without my command as if savoring it, Pirina gave a small gesture.

Grrrr…

The dogs let out a low growl, crouching down as they moved closer.

Flinch.

"They’re in attack stance."

That was how they always positioned themselves before pouncing.

As memories of their fangs sinking into her skin resurfaced, Beatty’s face turned pale.

Grrr—!

The dogs bared their teeth, their paws digging into the dirt as they prepared to leap.

Instinctively, Beatty squeezed her eyes shut.

"Are you afraid of dogs?"

A familiar boy’s voice rang out.

Yelp! Yipe yipe!

The dogs let out terrified whimpers.

"?"

Confused, Beatty opened her eyes.

A broad back blocked her view.

The fading sunlight painted a crimson halo over the boy’s head like a crown.

"You…!"

Beatty pointed at him in recognition.

It was the mysterious boy she had met when she had suddenly fallen into the mountain range.

Catching onto her unspoken greeting, the boy smiled.

"Hello, my lady."

"A-Ah, hello."

Flustered, she instinctively returned the greeting before snapping back to her senses.

"How are you here?"

"Hm?"

"Ah, wait. Could it be… the guest?"

As the realization dawned on her, she looked at him with an expression of understanding—

Only for another familiar voice to cut in.

"I told you to stay inside. Why are you wandering around causing trouble?"

"Carl."

Beatty turned toward her brother, then glanced at the boy.

"Do they know each other?"

The way the boy turned to Carl so casually made it seem like they were acquaintances.

"Maybe he’s Carl’s friend?"

She was about to assume as much, but Carl’s expression twisted into a snarl.

"Back off."

"Huh?"

In an instant, Carl stepped between Beatty and the boy, shoving him away.

"…Not a friend, then?"

The hostility on Carl’s face was far from what one would expect between friends.

"Stay away from her."

"Hmm?"

Tap tap.

Using the hilt of his sword, Carl nudged the boy back and dragged a line in the dirt.

"Take twenty steps back from here."

"…If I do that, I won’t even be able to hear the conversation."

"Good."

That distance is exactly how far you should be.

Carl scoffed and motioned for him to move back further.

"What? What am I even doing?"

The boy sighed in exasperation, raising his shoulders in a shrug.

"So… who is he?"

Carl had no intention of introducing the boy. Instead, he simply kept Beatty behind him, glaring as if he were facing an enemy.

Just as Beatty was blinking in confusion—

"Hm?"

"…"

From somewhere nearby, the Duke of Aslan approached, speaking in a low voice.@@novelbin@@

"I ordered the guest to be escorted to the parlor."

"Yes, and I was escorted properly."

"Then why are you here?"

His voice was thick with disapproval.

From Carl, his so-called friend, to Duke Aslan, who had at least established a working relationship with him—

Now, both of them stood in front of him, making it crystal clear that they wouldn’t let him so much as see the girl behind them.

Feeling their razor-sharp stares, the boy let out an exaggerated sigh.

"This makes me feel like some kind of bandit."

"…"

Neither Carl nor the Duke bothered to deny the accusation.

"It’s not like I came to demand your daughter’s hand in marriage or anything."

"What did you say?"

Schink.

What was meant to be a joke to lighten the mood was met with an aggressively hostile response.

"Whoa, are you actually planning to fight me?"

"If you weren’t, why would you say something like that?"

"It was just a lighthearted joke."

The boy shook his head playfully, as if lamenting Carl’s humorless nature.

Carl ignored him entirely.

Instead, the Duke took a step forward and spoke.

"A prince should watch his words carefully."

"…Prince?"

Beatty blinked at her father’s words, realizing the boy’s identity.

"A prince?"

"Aren’t you being a little too cold?" the prince said with an exaggerated sigh. "After all, we fought on the same battlefield, didn’t we?"

"…"

The Duke ignored him entirely.

"You arrived awfully late."

"Carl, you should at least take my side. What kind of friend treats another like this?"

"Who’s your friend?"

Watching Carl bicker with the prince, Beatty wondered if their relationship wasn’t all that bad.

But then—

"Keep your distance."

The moment the prince so much as took a step forward, Carl growled threateningly.

Maybe they weren’t friends after all.

"I can't tell whether they get along or not."

Beatty tilted her head in confusion, then glanced at the prince.

He was still smiling.

"…But I like him."

He was as tall as Carl, and even with an eyepatch, his handsome features couldn’t be hidden.

Apart from her family, Beatty found herself feeling a bit of curiosity—perhaps even a little fondness—toward him.

"Because Ritter hates him."

The enemy of her enemy was a potential ally.

There were only two princes in the kingdom. Since Ritter was the second prince, that meant the boy standing before her must be the first prince.

"Ritter always seemed obsessed with his older brother."

That arrogant, smug voice that usually spoke in a relaxed, indifferent tone—

Whenever he mentioned his half-brother, it became sharp.

"Just by existing, he makes Ritter mad."

She wanted to cheer him on.

If their enmity was mutual, she was more than willing to help. If she could use her knowledge from her past life to ruin Ritter, she’d gladly offer it.

"I wonder if he wants to take revenge on that bastard? If so, I definitely want to help."

As she looked at the prince with expectant, sparkling eyes—

"This,"

—her father’s cold voice rang out.

His gaze was locked on Pirina and the guard dogs, his expression icy.

"Remove them immediately."

Whether intentional or not, he had no intention of allowing anything that had threatened his daughter to remain in his domain.

The servants of the Aslan household, understanding exactly what this referred to, immediately grabbed Pirina by both arms.

"Wha—? W-what are you doing?! Let me go!"

Pirina, who had been glaring at the commotion with irritation, shrieked in shock.

"Duke! Why are you doing this to me?!"

"That too."

The Duke gestured toward the guard dogs, who were now cowering under the oppressive aura of the beastkin knights.

"G-Grand Duke! You must have misunderstood. I didn’t know she was afraid of dogs—"

Pirina attempted to backpedal, but the Duke remained unmoved.

"Send her to the annex."

"Grand Duke!"

Her voice rose in protest.

She knew what the annex meant—it was outside the castle walls.

"You can’t treat me like this! Do you not care what your dead sister would think?!"

As always, when things turned against her, she tried to use her deceased sister as a shield.

The Duke’s brows furrowed deeper.

"Enough."

With a simple gesture, his knights closed in.

"Y-you! Let go! I’ll walk on my own!"

Gnashing her teeth, Pirina had no choice but to leave.

The servants moved swiftly, gathering her belongings from the guest quarters and tossing them into the carriage.

She was forcibly thrown into the carriage along with her luggage and promptly expelled from the duchy.

***

Ducal Banquet Hall

With dinner prepared, Carl moved to the dining area, his face sullen as he glared at the prince.

"So."

"Hm?"

"What are you doing here?"

Given that the war was already over, there were few reasons for a royal visit.

"Naturally, I came to extend the royal family’s deep gratitude and commend the Aslan Duchy for their achievements—"

"Hah!"

Carl scoffed.

"The war dragged on for years, and only now you decide to show up?"

"Carl."

Ignoring the Duke’s warning, Carl scrunched his nose.

"That damn snake stench still lingers."

Despite the Duke’s attempt to rein him in, Carl didn’t care—outside of Tailfur, he never bothered watching his words.

"You can never trust the royal family."

"Exclude me from that."

The prince, unfazed, smoothly countered Carl’s words.

"Hah. A few measly victories and you think you’re something?"

"Come on, I was on the battlefield."

Watching the two bicker, the Duke finally spoke.

"Gratitude and commendation, you say."

The so-called royal family had barely lifted a finger during the war.

Despite the decades of fighting, they hadn’t even sent proper reinforcements.

Yet now, the Aslan Duchy had secured victory—and suddenly, they sent a prince to commend them?

"Ashtar Aether, First Prince."

"Yes, Duke?"

"You must have seriously fallen out of favor with the king."