Baby Squirrel Is Good at Everything

A few years later, a book titled "Everything About Banquet Preparations" was published, sparking a massive trend in decorations.

The concept of using rough ropes—something more suited for the battlefield—as banquet décor spread among event organizers in noble households.

Beatty had already seen in past newspapers how this had drastically transformed the banquet scenery in the capital.

“Before that, decorations were limited to lace, fabric, and fresh flowers, but afterward, people started incorporating all sorts of new materials.”

From surprising guests with unconventional materials to using colors that reflected different territories, the possibilities expanded greatly.

It became a standard for future banquets to incorporate previously unused materials into their decorations.

“Still, nothing has surpassed the rope-knot decorations of the North.”

The first-ever trend born in the barren, fashionless North had become beloved across the entire kingdom.

Just as lace decorations had once dominated high society, after the publication of "Everything About Banquet Preparations", macramé decorations became the new standard for banquet interiors.

She remembered seeing banquet halls in the capital decorated in that very style through the window for quite some time.

“……”

The Duke was silently staring at the rope knots that Beatty had crafted.

‘Ah. Did I mess up?’@@novelbin@@

Feeling nervous, Beatty fidgeted with her hands.

She had tried her best to recall the macramé knotting techniques she had seen before her regression, receiving help from the duchy’s skilled hands familiar with tying ropes.

However, her small hands weren’t yet adept at tying precise knots.

Noticing a section that looked slightly tangled, she stole a glance at her father’s expression.

“This is….”

With his usual stern expression, the Duke picked up the knotted decoration Beatty had made and spoke.

“Adorable.”

“…Huh?”

The sheer contrast between his serious tone and the unexpected statement left Beatty momentarily unable to process his words.

‘To think that my baby made this with her tiny little hands.’

Recalling the sight of her small, marshmallow-like fingers carefully twisting the knots, the Duke closed his eyes as if engraving the image into his memory.

‘I’ll place a preservation spell on this to keep it intact forever and create replicas to spread the greatness of my child.’

Having swiftly devised a plan for both preserving and distributing his daughter’s handmade creation, the Duke opened his eyes and issued a command.

“We proceed as is.”

“T-Thank you.”

She wasn’t sure why, but since her plan had been approved so quickly, Beatty politely expressed her gratitude and moved on to the next step.

“Then, I’ll consult with Johanna and the artisans to refine the design even more—”

“No.”

“…What?”

“We proceed. As is.”

“…Excuse me?”

Beatty stared in disbelief as her father firmly held onto her rough prototype like a sacred artifact.

“But, uh, the knots are loose, and the strings here are sticking out…”

“This is perfect as it is.”

“……”

Beatty strongly disagreed.

‘As expected…’

Regrettably, a well-known kingdom-wide saying surfaced in her mind.

"Never trust a Northern person's sense of aesthetics!"

The North, known for its disconnection from trends, was infamous for having its artistic sense eroded by its harsh environment and constant battles with magical beasts.

‘Father is a Northerner, after all…’

With some regret, Beatty concluded that her father’s taste in aesthetics was something she could never trust.

Watching him insist that they replicate her unfinished prototype exactly, she shook her head in resignation.

***

After much back and forth, the final banquet hall decorations were complete—rugged yet strikingly beautiful.

Beatty watched with satisfaction as nobles from across the kingdom admired the unique décor.

‘Thankfully, it turned out well.’

Not only had Johanna helped, but she had also received valuable assistance from skilled artisans who specialized in knotwork.

Seeing the decorations she had designed being well-received filled her with pride, but it also reminded her of something else she had prepared.

‘I already checked that the ingredients were properly prepared, but I should go one last time to confirm.’

With that thought, Beatty turned on her heel and hurried off to the kitchen.

Shortly after she left, the banquet guests continued arriving, excited about attending a rare Northern-hosted event.

After confirming the attendance list, a steward bowed and reported back to the Duke.

Ting-ting!

The clear sound of a glass being tapped drew everyone’s attention.

The steward, having completed his task of gathering the guests’ focus, stepped back, and the Duke began to speak.

“Welcome.”

His greeting was short and direct, in contrast to the usual grand, flowery opening remarks of most noble banquets.

“This banquet is in celebration of our recent victory. And to honor this occasion, my daughter…”

Most guests, familiar with the Duke’s tendency toward brief statements, simply nodded in acknowledgment.

However, in the next moment, his words continued—unexpectedly long and detailed.

“…who, as you all know, not only uncovered an enemy scheme with her remarkable insight but also, despite her young age, possesses an exceptional sense of responsibility toward our people, diligently researching ways to aid them…”

And just like that, the attendees were subjected to a lengthy speech about how incredibly intelligent, kind, and—above all—adorably adorable the young Lady of Aslan was.

"We get it! Your daughter is cute, now please stop!"

This translation is the intellectual property of Novelight.

"I've never heard the Duke speak this much in my life…"

The Duke’s speech only came to an abrupt halt when he caught sight of a familiar light brown head peeking through the slightly open door.

“As mentioned earlier, my daughter, Beatty Aslan, has prepared a special commemorative gift.”

His golden eyes gleamed as he surveyed the banquet hall, as if preemptively identifying any potential dissenters.

“I trust you will all be pleased.”

"That’s a warning, isn’t it? If we don’t react enthusiastically, we’re done for."

“Y-Yes, of course!”

“Haha, I’m already excited!”

Having spent years in the social circles, the nobles were quick to read the room and adjust accordingly.

As the guests eagerly expressed their anticipation—whether genuine or not—Beatty, focused on her final preparations, remained unaware of the excessively grand introduction being given in her honor.

‘Alright. Everything is perfect.’

With a nervous yet determined heart, she pushed open the banquet hall doors.

“Hm? What’s that?”

“Is that… a cocktail cart?”

As curious gazes fell on her, Beatty, masking her nerves, walked over to the cart with small, measured steps.

‘First, a proper greeting to the guests.’

“Oh my, she’s still so young, yet she carries herself so gracefully.”

“The young Lady of Aslan is truly adorable.”

Hearing the murmurs of admiration, Beatty breathed a sigh of relief.

‘Phew. Looks like I didn’t mess up what I practiced.’

While she credited her last-minute etiquette lessons, the nobles watching had an entirely different thought process.

"The Duke adores her so much. It’d be wise to earn some favor with her now."

Observing their warm smiles, Beatty, feeling reassured, opened her mouth to speak.

“Does anyone here have trouble sleeping?”

“…?”

At the sudden question, the nobles exchanged puzzled glances.

“Or experience sharp headaches around here?”

Beatty pointed to her own temples as she spoke.

Some guests instinctively reached for their heads, frowning slightly.

“What about stiff and tense shoulders?”

“Ah, that would be me.”

With more people reacting, Beatty confidently stepped forward.

“Have you been feeling more fatigued and easily exhausted lately?”

As murmurs of realization spread through the crowd, many wore expressions of mild astonishment.

"How does she know that?"

“I read about it in a book written by a very intelligent doctor! He explained that people who are busy and have a lot on their minds tend to suffer from these symptoms.”

The book she referred to was an obscure medical text that would gain recognition in the future.

At present, the author was dismissed as a quack, so she wisely avoided mentioning his name.

“Since everyone attending this banquet is an important person, I thought it was natural that you might have similar concerns.”

“Haha! That is true. My work is quite demanding.”

One noble, feeling validated, proudly stroked his beard and glanced around with a smug expression.

“Ahem! Now that I think about it, I’ve had headaches too.”

“Indeed… my shoulders have been stiff lately.”

Not wanting to be left out, others began listing their ailments.

“Exactly! That’s why I’ve prepared this for all of you.”

With a swift motion, she pulled off the cloth covering the cart.

Glasses filled with a translucent green liquid lined up neatly.

“…Herbal water?”

“I mean, herbs are good for health…”

Though they said it out of politeness, their expressions betrayed their reluctance.

Beatty smirked.

Despite their evident disappointment, she, on the contrary, smiled.

Clap, clap.

At her prearranged signal, the attendants skillfully placed spoons over the glasses.

Curiously, the spoons were full of holes—completely unsuitable for scooping anything. On top of each, they placed a neatly cut sugar cube.

“Now, everyone, watch closely.”

Beatty pulled out a small stick-shaped staff and gripped it firmly.