Baby Squirrel Is Good at Everything

As Beatty pondered deeply, a voice that now sounded different reached her ears.

"Hm? Byul-ah."

A long time ago, before she had a name of her own.

When she had been sulking, he had given her a nickname.

"Call me like you used to."

He had smiled, saying that if she called him by a nickname too, they could address each other that way.

"Call me Athel."

"…Athel."

It was the first time she had ever used a nickname for someone else.

***

Hearing the name from the girl again after so long, Athel unconsciously smiled.

I knew it.

It was worth coming to see her.

Looking into those clear black eyes, he thought—

I wanted to see these eyes again.

The girl whose name he hadn’t known.

But she had been a certain kind of solace.

A rare darkness, one that had shone as a light to him in his childhood.

Athel was born a dragon beastkin—a rarity among rarities.

Even among dragon beastkin couples, offspring were born infrequently. They were famously rare.

So, when a child was born from a snake beastkin father and a dragon beastkin mother, it was only natural that the kingdom expected him to be a snake beastkin.

The King had desired a Serpent of Wisdom as his heir, and so, his disappointment at Athel’s birth had been immense.

At least, that was how his mother had explained it.

"It’s because you weren’t what he expected! That’s why he’s only strayed for a while…"

His mother had come to this foreign kingdom, relying solely on his father’s love, and had convinced herself that his fading affection was because of their son.

"And on top of that, you just had to be born with such an ominous black color."

As a former Eastern Continent royal, his mother would often mutter in discontent while looking at him.

Black—the color of rebellion against the heavens.

A superstition from the Eastern Continent, where legends foretold that a Black Dragon would bring about the end of the world.

She would spend hours lamenting, blaming herself—until the days when she met with his father in a good mood. Then, she would suddenly be kind again.

Unlike his mother, his father was consistent.

"Tch. It’s you."

Consistently unpleasant.

His father’s eyes were a pale, diluted yellow—like lemon water.

Athel, on the other hand, possessed a striking golden gaze.

There was a saying that the stronger a beastkin’s power, the deeper the color of their eyes.

And indeed, Athel had inherited an exceptionally strong dragon beastkin’s abilities.

His father, however, hated those eyes.

When Athel’s younger sibling was born, the King had even insisted that he keep his eyes covered, claiming they were harmful to the child.

The magical blindfold had been specially crafted so as not to obstruct his vision.

"Never remove it in the presence of your sibling."

But it served as a constant reminder of his father’s discrimination.

Still, Athel never saw it as entirely unfair.

After all, even he thought his own eyes were strange.

All it took was a glance.

"Hiiik! Y-Your Highness!"

People would suddenly collapse in terror, knees trembling.

"P-Prince, allow me to… assist you in washing your face…"

Even the attendants, who had no choice but to look him in the eye while performing their duties, would shudder and turn deathly pale.

"It seems you did inherit our imperial blood."

His mother, proud of her Eastern Continent lineage, would cackle in satisfaction, saying their family carried the blood of true rulers.

"Tch. Don't even think of using those eyes on me."

His father, however, would never meet his gaze, finding the pressure intolerable.

It was natural for beastkin to feel overwhelmed when locking eyes, but his case was particularly severe.

The Dragon’s Eyes.

Revered like a divine gift in the East, but in this kingdom, they only brought him isolation.

People who had once been captivated by his beauty would avert their eyes the moment they met his gaze, never daring to face him again.

No one wanted to look him in the eye.

Except for one person.

"Oh?"

A single girl.

She was the only one who wasn’t afraid of his eyes.

"Are you a star?"

***

That day, everything had felt particularly suffocating.

For some reason, his mother had been in an exceptionally good mood earlier in the day, even embracing him warmly.

Yet when she returned alone that evening, her eyes were bloodshot, and she screamed at him.

"How could he do this to me…? You! It’s because of you! You were born this way, and that’s why I’m suffering like this!"

Normally, her words wouldn’t have affected him.

But today, they struck a nerve.

Maybe because just that morning, she had held him close, calling him "my son" in such a gentle voice.

The same voice that was now slashing at him like a blade.

"Hah."

Letting out a heavy sigh, Athel silently gazed up at the night sky—before leaping over the windowsill.

Poof!

In an instant, he transformed into his dragon form and soared into the sky.

That’s better.

The cold wind cooled a heat he hadn’t even realized was burning inside him.

Whenever he felt suffocated, he would take to the skies in his beastkin form, escaping the palace unnoticed.

No guards were assigned to him—his overwhelming power meant no protection was deemed necessary.

And if anyone happened to see him?

It was easy enough to wrap himself in mist and disappear.

No one would recognize an extra-dark cloud in the night sky.

Hm?

That night, as he wandered aimlessly, he happened to notice a small figure staring blankly at the sky—just as he had been doing before he left the palace.

So small.

From above, the child looked even tinier.

Was it okay for someone so little to be outside at this hour?

Won't she catch a cold?

He debated whether he should nudge her inside with a gust of wind.

And then—

The girl lifted her head.

"Ah."

Their eyes met.

Or at least, it seemed that way despite the distance.

…Those eyes.

Unconsciously focusing his energy on his vision, Athel saw them clearly—pure black.

Rare black eyes. As dark as his own hair.

"Oh!"

A small gasp escaped from the girl’s lips.

That was when Athel realized he had drifted too close without noticing.

Damn.

He hurried to lift himself back up, but then—

"Star?"

A phrase so unexpected that he froze.

When he turned back in curiosity, the girl was staring at him, her black eyes sparkling.

"Are you a star?"

"…Are you talking to me?"

Nod, nod.

The girl nodded enthusiastically.

"You came down from the sky!"

"Well, that’s—"

"And you're all sparkly!"

"Huh?"

Oh, had the mist scattered a bit?

The only thing that might have been visible was his eyes.

Just as Athel was about to thicken the mist—

"When you’re in the sky, your color is the same as the stars."

Athel blinked at her unexpected words.

‘The color of the stars?’

No one had ever described his eyes that way before.

Come to think of it…

Athel realized something else.

This girl, who was describing the color of his eyes—

Was looking straight at him.

Without hesitation.

"Are you okay?"

"Huh?"

"My eyes… you’re not afraid?"

The girl tilted her head, as if the question made no sense.

Her black eyes darted around in thought before she simply answered what she saw.

"They’re pretty."

"……."

Words he had never heard before.

Their first meeting.

Their first exchange of glances.

For Athel, it was an unforgettable moment.

***

"But calling me 'Star' is a little embarrassing…"

More than that, to him, the girl had been the one who shone like starlight.

So, he had called her "Star" instead.

And in return, he had given her his own nickname.

"Athel?"

Just like now, when she called his name again.

"Yeah, Byul-ah."

For some reason, the friend grinning at her so brightly made Beatty look at him with suspicion.

"Are you even listening to me?"

"Of course. It’s my Star speaking."

Why did he seem so happy?

Not realizing she was the reason, Beatty simply asked what she was curious about.

"How are you even here?"

"Hmm. That’s what I should be asking. When did my Star from the capital end up all the way in the North?"

He teased playfully.

Beatty then told him about everything that had happened.

How she had received a real name.

"I see. Beatty… that’s a beautiful name."

Watching her friend smile warmly as if it truly made him happy, Beatty felt her heart grow warm.

Then, something from earlier that day came to mind.

"Oh, by the way, the First Prince—"

Twitch.

Her friend’s shoulders flinched—excessively.

"…Did you come with him?"

"Uh… y-yeah?"

Hahaha.

His laugh sounded awkward.

"?"

"Ahem. So, you met His Highness today?"@@novelbin@@

"Yeah."

For some reason, her friend’s eyes darted around before he asked—

"What did you think?"

"About what?"

"I mean, uh… your first impression of him."

His eyes were gleaming with curiosity.

‘So eager.’

Maybe he was one of the prince’s attendants? He seemed quite dedicated to keeping track of his master’s reputation even when out of sight.

Since her friend seemed so earnest, Beatty answered honestly.

"He seemed like a womanizer."