BSGE 83

“He went to you?”

Carl growled irritably, his face contorting with displeasure.

He was about to storm off to reprimand the knights responsible for guarding Beatty when she gently tapped his arm to get his attention.

“So, why is that Ritter… I mean, the Second Prince here?”

“Just call him ‘that bastard.'”

Carl nodded with satisfaction at Beatty’s clearly negative impression of Ritter revealed in her choice of words.

“I heard he came to negotiate a reduction in the war participation fees.”

“War participation fees?”

After hearing the explanation about compensation for bloodshed in battle, Beatty jumped up in outrage.

“They’re going to reduce that?!”

‘What’s so great about that Ritter!’

Carl chuckled at her genuinely indignant voice and placed his hand on her head.

“We didn’t reduce it.”

Beatty watched with a bland expression as her brother messed up the hair Johanna had just styled.

“Then since his request was denied, is he leaving now?”

“No. Should we chase him out?”

“…Is that allowed?”

Carl brightened at her hopeful tone.

“That snake didn’t show his face once during actual combat, and now he dares to stick his nose in here. This works out perfectly.”

“Snake… Is it okay to call him that?”

Beatty questioned, concerned about her brother’s overly aggressive response.

‘I understand having a grudge against Ritter for being bitten, but won’t he cause trouble for Brother for speaking this way about a prince?’

Seeing Beatty’s worried expression, Carl’s face took on a satisfied, cat-like smile as he replied.

“I’m just calling a snake what it is.”

His crooked expression perfectly matched his usual rough personality.

“Oh right – you need to be careful of snakes too. Actually, all reptiles.”

“What?”

Carl paused momentarily, remembering another shapeshifter around Beatty besides snakes, and corrected his words.

“Reptiles can’t be trusted. Come on, repeat after me.”

“Re-reptiles can’t be trusted?”

“Lions are the only ones you can trust.”

“…Lions are the only ones you can trust.”

What is this?

Though thinking this was ridiculous, Beatty played along, seeing how strangely excited her brother seemed.

After thoroughly instilling a wariness of reptiles in Beatty, Carl lifted his head with a satisfied expression.

‘Brother is so weird…’

Completely oblivious to Beatty’s deadpan stare.

Carl repeated once more that she shouldn’t associate with snake-like creatures before departing.

A few days after the unpleasant encounter with that traitor, on a warm, sunny afternoon.

Beatty approached a tree in the garden she had spotted earlier from the corridor.

Poof!

Naturally transforming into a squirrel, Beatty scampered up to the leafy upper branches with quick movements, careful to avoid being seen.

“Chu-“

Whew. Finding a perfect branch to hide on, Beatty exhaled lazily.

She had sought out this tree for her usual comfortable nap and was just starting to doze off, leaning against the trunk of the branch, when…

“Your Highness, this way… not…”

Voices drifted up from below.

‘Hm? Your Highness?’

In her drowsy state, Beatty thought hazily.

‘But Prince Ather isn’t here right now? He definitely left days ago after saying goodbye… Ah!’

The next moment, Beatty’s eyes flew open.

The only person who would be called “Your Highness” in this area right now…

“This is my first time seeing it like this.”

“Yes, it’s an honor to meet you directly, Second Prince.”

Looking down at the familiar voices, she saw the unmistakable faces.

‘Ritter and Count Zealot?’

The squirrel’s eyes blinked at this unexpected combination.

“This spot should be fine.”

“Hmm. Are you certain?”

“Yes. It’s shift change time, and as you can see, there’s nothing but trees around – the area is completely open. We’d notice immediately if anyone approached.”

Count Zealot, completely unaware of the squirrel’s round eyes watching them from directly above, surveyed the area before speaking.

“I hear you’ve already met with the Duke and the Young Master?”

“That’s right.”

“What about the Young Lady? Given how security has tightened after our last failure, it might be difficult to see her.”

“Ha!”

Ritter shook his head irritably at Count Zealot’s question.

“I’ve already met her.”

“What? Then are you proceeding with the plan as discussed…?”

The core of their plan had been to use the Second Prince’s appearance, which typically charmed girls his age, to approach the Young Lady and either get her addicted to poison or manipulate her into begging for an engagement.

Any plan predicated on Ritter gaining Beatty’s favor was doomed to fail from the start.

“No.”

Ritter ground his teeth, remembering the Aslan Young Lady who had struck him not just in their first meeting, but their second as well.

“Why should I have to please that Young Lady in the first place? The plan was flawed from the beginning.”

‘You’re the one who came up with and proposed that plan in the first place, what nonsense are you talking?’

Oblivious to Count Zealot’s skeptical glance, Ritter continued dwelling on the Young Lady who had humiliated him.

‘Just because she’s somewhat cute, she dared to act so impudently, trusting her face.’

It had been that way since their first meeting.

When his mother suddenly ordered him to just show his face to someone who needed to be kept on a leash with a fake engagement, he’d gone out feeling irritated. And then he saw that girl.

With hair as bright as his precious golden pony and eyes like onyx. Those round eyes that seemed to reflect a pure spirit had stared at him, and for a moment he lost himself.

Though she was meant to be just another chess piece to use, her appearance had rather pleased him, and he’d extended his hand with what he considered goodwill.

Slap!

Ritter’s brow furrowed as he recalled the stinging sensation on his cheek.

‘A cheek that even Father had never struck.’

It had been especially infuriating because he’d been caught off guard, thinking she was cute.

The memory reigniting his anger, Ritter muttered.

“And she even has that flaw.”

Physical weakness was a major disqualification for marriage in noble society.

After all, marriages between noble bloodlines were primarily about producing heirs to continue the family line.

“Beatty Aslan. Despite her flaw, I was graciously willing to accept her as my fiancée, yet she dared to be so arrogant!”

At Ritter’s outburst of barely contained emotion…

“Chu chu chit-!”

‘What nonsense are you spouting, you madman!’

The squirrel in the tree, who had been quietly listening to the sudden mention of herself, couldn’t help but cry out in anger.

“Hm?”

Despite trying to keep her cry of outrage as quiet as possible, Ritter looked up and glanced around, as if sensing he was being insulted.

*snap*

Beatty quickly covered her triangular mouth with her paws, instead mentally hurling the worst insults she knew.

‘Ritter you ♩♪♬ing ♪♬able ♪♩♩ bastard!’

Count Zealot also looked around, asking, “Your Highness? Is something bothering you?”

“…No. Must have been the wind.”

“Ah, yes. The north does have stronger winds compared to the capital.”

Ritter shook his head, apparently deciding he had misheard, fortunately not noticing her presence above.

‘Phew. Must be more careful.’

The squirrel smoothed down her fluffy chest fur with a sigh, then raised her tail alertly, focusing on the conversation below.

“Your Highness. The person you sent earlier reported finding the target location with certainty.”

“Excellent. Then let’s proceed with the recruitment immediately.”

“Yes. First, we’ll have land purchased under that person’s name.”

“Proceed with that, and…”

Ritter nodded, then suddenly his eyes sharpened as he asked,

“You’ve properly prepared for the cleanup afterwards?”

“Haha. Of course. You know there wasn’t a single whisper about our previous operation, don’t you?”

‘Previous operation?’

The squirrel behind the branch wrinkled her tiny brow and perked up her round ears.

‘Suspicious…’

Mixing with Ritter was one thing, but secretly whispering in a deliberately secluded location couldn’t possibly be legitimate business.

Beatty watched Count Zealot intently as he deliberately avoided mentioning specifics.

“By the way, what if the Duke’s household becomes suspicious of purchasing wasteland and investigates directly?”

“No need to worry, we have sufficient countermeasures.”

Count Zealot confidently replied to Ritter’s final confirmation.

“Even if the Duke comes to see for himself, he’ll never find what’s there.”

“Hmm. That person did make such a guarantee.”

“Yes. Even I couldn’t find the entrance despite it being right in front of me until that person showed me the passage directly.”

“Good. Then we’ll soon have those stones in hand.”

‘Those stones?’

A question mark appeared above Beatty’s head as she listened. Something seemed almost familiar.

“Yes. Soon the ‘Fairy Stones’ will be in Your Highness’s hands-“

“Count Zealot.”

“Ah, my apologies. I got excited thinking success was within reach…”

“Let’s watch what we say until everything is properly finished.”

Count Zealot bowed deeply before Ritter’s smiling warning.

That seemed to conclude their conversation, as they soon left separately, timing their departures.

After both Ritter and Count Zealot had gone, up in the tree…

Rustle.

Emerging from behind her hiding place in the leaves, Beatty’s tiny shoulders shook as she laughed.

“Chu chu chu chu-“

If she were human, it would have been an evil villain’s “kukuku” laugh.