Baby Squirrel Is Good at Everything

"…What?"

"He was too handsome."

"Hahaha, really? You thought he was handsome?"

Her friend, who had been momentarily stunned, quickly brightened up and asked enthusiastically.

"Oh! And calling me 'Lady' the moment we met—he really seemed like a womanizer."

"T-That was meant as a sign of respect!"

"Huh?"

"Ahem."

Her friend, as if speaking on behalf of the prince himself, hastily made excuses before awkwardly clearing his throat.

They continued chatting for quite some time.

Having grown used to early bedtime, Beatty didn’t realize how late it had gotten—until she let out a small yawn.

"Haha. You’re sleepy, aren’t you?"

"Ah, no!"

She instinctively denied it, reacting to his amused, almost fond tone—like he was talking to a child.

"Still, I’m really glad we met again, Beatty."

"…Me too."

His bright smile and simple words made Beatty fidget shyly but nod in agreement.

"I’ll be staying at the Duke’s estate for a while, so if you ever need anything, just call for me."

"Anytime?"

"Well… maybe not during the day."

"Makes sense. You must be busy attending to the prince."

She nodded, understanding.

"Then, Beatty, have a good night."

"……."

With a final wave, her friend disappeared down below, urging her to go inside before the night air got too cold.

Beatty lingered a little longer, feeling an odd sense of disappointment as she gazed at the spot where he had stood.

Then—

—Did you have a good chat?@@novelbin@@

"!"

The Constellation Squirrel!

I thought it disappeared again already…

From where exactly it had been hiding, Beatty had no idea.

But now, it sat smugly on the windowsill, puffing out its tiny chest as if proud of itself.

—I even cleared the way for you to talk comfortably.

"?"

The balcony was completely empty.

What exactly did it ‘clear’?

Beatty was about to ask, but before she could, the Constellation suddenly whipped its head around.

It stared off into the distance—where the darkness was too thick to see anything—before mumbling.

—Hmm. Seems like someone noticed.

Tap, tap.

The Constellation lightly tapped the ground, then spoke in a breezy voice as if its work was done.

—Well, I’ll be going now.

"Huh? Wait a minute!"

Beatty reached out desperately.

I still have so many questions—!

She was finally about to demand answers to all the mysteries that had piled up.

But the Constellation was quicker.

—Don’t worry.

Even though its words were cryptic as ever, there was an undeniable authority and trustworthiness in them.

—I’ve already found a way to fix the issue with my limited descent time. Next time, I’ll be able to tell you everything.

"When is ‘next time’?"

—That depends on how quickly ■■ finishes the task I assigned them.

"Who is that?! And when?!"

Before she could demand a clearer answer, the Constellation was already gone.

Chirp, chirp.

Now, only the ordinary Snowstorm Squirrel remained in its place.

The little squirrel sniffed the air curiously, then—

Suddenly, as if sensing something—

Zoom!

It bolted away before she could even react.

"?"

Beatty tilted her head in confusion.

Why did it look so… scared?

Thud!

Just then, she heard someone land behind her.

"I sensed something unpleasant, so I came to check."

Grrr…

A deep voice rumbled, mixed with the growl of a lion.

"Why are you outside?"

Carl frowned as he questioned her.

"Uh?"

Why was her brother acting like there had been an intruder?

"It’s bedtime."

"W-Well, yeah. I was just about to go in."

Feeling oddly guilty, Beatty quickly tried to retreat.

"Hmm."

Suspicious.

Carl narrowed his eyes, scanning the area.

But strangely, aside from Beatty, there were no other traces of anyone else.

"I was sure I sensed something filthy."

Even worse than when an enemy beastkin trespassed on their land—

Like someone sneaking behind his back, trying to steal something precious…

"Did someone come here?"

"Um?"

Beatty’s vague response made Carl’s eyes narrow even more.

Oh no.

Athel is just a harmless friend!

He only came to visit after a long time!

But if she said the wrong thing now, Carl might literally tear him apart like an enemy invader.

"Haaaah."

"……."

"Haaaaaah—"

"…Are you sleepy?"

It worked!

Her desperate yawning had successfully distracted Carl.

As expected, my brother is…

Just like their father, Carl was undoubtedly a health-first fanatic.

“Always emphasizing early sleep—it’s obvious.”

Praising her own keen observation skills, Beatty nodded to herself.

Click.

"Get inside."

Carl tucked Beatty into bed, personally checking the window locks.

"If some grinning black-haired bastard talks to you, ignore him."

"Huh?"

Wait, isn’t that the First Prince? Am I really supposed to ignore him…?

Despite Beatty’s bewildered look, Carl continued his serious warning—not just about that guy, but about all men in general.

Declaring half of humanity to be an untrustworthy species, he even started voicing strong opinions against marriage.

"Marriage? …Oh!"

Beatty, confused about why the conversation had suddenly turned in that direction, quickly recalled something.

‘Ah, he must still be upset about the royal family trying to arrange my engagement back in the capital…’

So was their father.

Thinking back to their reactions, she realized—

More than being angry about her slapping Ritter, her family had been infuriated that the royal family had tried to negotiate her betrothal behind their backs.

It was easy to see what mattered most to them.

‘They’re making sure the royal family has no influence over marriage within the duchy.’

This was exactly the kind of power struggle between the royal family and great noble houses she had only read about before!

"Alright! I got it!"

"Hm."

Pleased that he had properly drilled this lesson into his little sister, Carl patted her head before leaving.

***

The Next Morning.

Beatty noticed that the atmosphere in the castle was oddly busy.

"Did something happen?"

"Ah, My Lady. The castle is quite lively, isn’t it?"

Johanna, as always, was assisting her with her outfit and kindly explained.

"We’re preparing for the Victory Banquet."

"A victory banquet?"

"Yes. Now that the long war is over, it’s time to celebrate our triumph and honor the soldiers who fought bravely."

Since the war had required all the strength of the North, the Aslan household had to properly reward the vassal families who had fought alongside them.

A feast was both a way to share in their victory and a symbol of the hard-earned peace they had secured.

"It’s been a long time since the castle held a grand banquet, so everyone is really putting in their best effort!"

"Hmph, remember last time when that snobby guest from the capital acted all high and mighty? We’re not letting that happen again!"

The maids’ eyes burned with determination.

This must be an important event.

Beatty nodded in understanding—only to be caught off guard by what Johanna said next.

"Oh, by the way, My Lady. An invitation arrived for you."

"An invitation?"

"Yes. Here."

It was the first time anyone had ever sent her an official invitation.

Feeling a small thrill, Beatty accepted the card.

The fine material was smooth yet firm, and as she opened it, a pleasant fragrance wafted up.

"It smells nice."

She had a strange sense of familiarity—like she had smelled this scent somewhere before.

At the bottom of the card, the First Prince’s signature was elegantly written.

Shaking off the odd feeling, Beatty checked the attendance box.

***

"I only invited the Lady."

"So?"

Athel, though smiling, pointedly remarked on the situation. Carl, however, simply gave him a look that said, “And?”

"My apologies, Lady. I suppose your insensitive older brother decided to intrude on our private tea time."

"Lady?"

Carl, completely ignoring Athel’s actual complaint, immediately zeroed in on what mattered.

"Why are you calling Tailfur that?"

"Then what should I call her?"

Athel remained unfazed despite Carl’s low growl.

"Don’t call her anything."

"And how exactly am I supposed to hold a conversation then?"

"Don’t have one."

"…Are you going to tell me not to make eye contact next?"

"Yeah. Don’t even look at her."

"……."

Athel stared at Carl in sheer disbelief.

"Wow. You’re seriously this overprotective?"

Finding it almost fascinating, Athel casually ran a hand through his hair and leaned on his chin before asking—

"What exactly are you so wary of? Are you afraid I might start acting like some philanderer around her?"

The boy blinked behind his enchanted blindfold, his voice as innocent as could be.

"You know I never approach ladies first."

Athel sighed as if lamenting his own unfair situation.

Carl simply scoffed.

"Your very existence is a menace."

There were already carts full of people who had fallen for that face.

Athel’s enchanted blindfold might have been able to suppress the power of his Dragon’s Eyes—

But it couldn’t do a damn thing about his looks.