BSGE 67

“What?”

The word hung in the air, fragile and sharp-edged.

Execution?

The Duke’s voice was measured, almost clinical, as he explained why he couldn’t immediately sentence the Viscountess to death. His gaze settled on Beatty’s startled expression, reading the subtle tremors of shock that rippled across her features.

“Naturally, I could sever her neck at any moment if you wished. However, I’m keeping her alive because of the medicinal treatment she brought.”

“Medicinal treatment?”

“Indeed. We’re investigating it carefully; uncertain what might be hidden within.”

Trust in the Viscountess who had dared to treat the young lady so carelessly had long since eroded to nothing. The suspicious elixir could be discarded without a second thought.

And yet.

‘What if… it truly could heal baby’s illness?’

A parent’s heart clings to the thinnest possibility available. The slimmest thread of hope was something one could not simply cut away.

If, by some remote chance, the elixir might genuinely cure the child’s ailment, then the Viscountess’s life must be preserved. Her secrets needed extracting: Was the royal house truly the source of the medicine? If fabricated, where exactly had she obtained it? How was it crafted?

Potential information still remained, locked within her silence.

The Duke’s expression was grave as he addressed Beatty.

“If the medicine can be verified to have any effect on your condition, the criminal will be handed over to you.”

Beatty looked up, bewildered.

“My condition?”

Her small fingers reached out, guiding the Duke’s hand to her forehead.

“I’m completely well now.”

Silence stretched between them, eyes delivering unspoken emotions.

The Duke’s throat tightened. Those innocent, transparent black eyes bore into him with a clarity that was almost painful. Something fundamental remained unsaid—a depth of vulnerability that made his earlier rage simmer beneath a controlled exterior.

“You don’t understand,” he finally murmured. “Not that immediate illness.”

The Duke’s anger flared anew at the criminal who had failed to inform his precious child about her own condition. Carefully choosing his words to avoid shocking the little one, he began gently,

“My dear, you know your body is frail, don’t you?”

“Me?” Beatty replied, confusion evident in her voice.

“Don’t you lose consciousness for most of the winter?”

“Oh, not really…” she answered, perplexed.

The Duke nodded, a hint of relief in his expression.

“I see. I’ve heard reports that you’re awake more often than when you were here.”

Reminiscing, he continued with a wistful smile.

“You were so delicate as a baby. While Carl and I could fill entire rooms with the things we broke, you could barely manage to create enough debris to fill your cradle.”

‘Isn’t that because Father and Carl are too strong?’

Beatty tilted her head, sensing something odd about this conversation. She decided to address the most peculiar point first.

“But Father, you said Aunt brought medicine to treat me?”

That, above all else, struck her as strange. ‘There’s no way Aunt would give me anything beneficial,’ she thought, nodding to herself.

Despite the sudden shift in topic, the Duke answered earnestly,

“Yes, it’s said to be the awakened unique ability of the Second Prince of the royal family.”

“!”

Beatty’s eyes widened at the unexpected mention of Ritter.

‘Wait… unique ability?’

Puzzled by the unfamiliar term, she inquired further, only to see a flicker of surprise cross her father’s face.

“You haven’t heard about the unique abilities of beast-kin?”

Realizing this was knowledge any beast-kin with basic education should possess, the Duke quickly reassured his anxious daughter.

“Don’t worry, my dear. At your age, it’s perfectly fine to ask about anything.”

“Still…” Beatty hesitated.

The Duke offered to provide a tutor if she wished, which finally put her at ease. He then began to explain.

“Unique abilities are, as the name suggests, special powers innate to each beast-kin. For example.”

The Duke picked up a nearby metal plate ornament and crumpled it simply into a ball.

“Lionesses have greater physical strength.”

The Duke straightened the crumpled plate like a folded sheet of paper and continued

“The snakes can produce a fluid from his venomous fangs. Whether it’s poison or medicine varies from individual to individual.”

As he continued his explanation, Beatty listened with wide-eyed fascination, her mind racing with new understanding.

‘I thought beast-kin were special because they were descendants of constellations, but these unique abilities are part of it too!’

The Duke’s gaze fell upon the black birthmark on Beatty’s wrist.

“Squirrel beast-kin must have their own unique abilities as well.”

Beatty blinked, caught off guard by the sudden focus on her. After a moment’s hesitation, she confessed honestly.

 “I… don’t have any abilities.”

“That can’t be,” the Duke replied, looking at his dejected daughter with fondness. “My dear, you’re just too young, that’s all.”

“Too young?”

“The age at which one awakens their unique ability varies from person to person,” he explained patiently.

“It typically happens around the age of ten, but it’s not unusual for it to be delayed by a few years.”

He placed his hand gently on her head, comforting her.

“Don’t worry my dear. As you grow, you’ll discover your own unique ability.”

Beatty remained silent, unable to contradict her father’s kind words.

‘Actually, even when I grow up, I won’t have a unique ability…’

She knew her future self, having lived almost to adulthood in her previous life. Even then, she had possessed no special abilities. A bitter taste filled her mouth, but not wanting to show such an expression to her father, Beatty lowered her head.

Later that night, back in her room, Beatty leaned against the terrace railing, gazing up at the night sky, lost in thought.

“Medicinal treatment…”

Pop!

So engrossed was she in her ponderings that Beatty didn’t even notice her ears popping out, pushed to their limit by her intense concentration.

“Medicinal Treatment…” Beatty murmured, her squirrel ears now fully visible atop her head.

Pop!

So lost in thought, she didn’t even notice the transformation.

“To think that what Aunt brought was a potion made from Ritter’s unique ability…”

Could it be true? No, surely not.

“Something’s weird”

“What’s weird?”

Suddenly, another voice interjected into her musings.

“Huh?”

Startled by the voice from above, Beatty looked up to find a familiar face she hadn’t seen in a while.

“Atel!”

Greeting her friend happily, Beatty was reminded of someone she’d grown accustomed to recently.

“Come to think of it, your name is quite similar to Prince Ather’s.”

Flinching slightly, Atel’s shoulders tensed before he replied with a forced smile,

“…It’s an Eastern Continent custom.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes. It’s especially common among dragon beast-kin.”

“Dragon beast-kin?”

“Dragon beast-kin are few in number. To strengthen the bonds within their small clans, they often give similar names to their members.”

It sounded plausible, but it was a hastily concocted lie. Atel had shared his nickname on an inexplicable impulse. ‘Atel’ was, of course, derived from his true name ‘Ather’, hence the similarity.

 “I see. What an interesting custom.”

Not much was known about the vast Eastern Continent across the great sea.

Thanks to her friend, Beatty’s face lit up with excitement at this newfound knowledge. ‘I wonder if I’ll be able to visit someday?’

Briefly imagining her future after gaining independence, Beatty suddenly remembered something and asked,

“Oh, Atel, do you know about beast-kin’s unique abilities too?”

“You mean the innate powers each beast-kin possesses?”

“Yes!”

It seemed all beast-kin were indeed familiar with the concept. Looking at her friend’s beast-kin form with renewed curiosity, Beatty inquired.

 “What kind of unique ability do dragon beast-kin have?”

“…”

The innocent curiosity in Beatty’s dark eyes as she gazed at him was palpable.

‘This is the first time someone has asked me so directly about my unique ability.’

Typically, information about an individual’s unique ability was only shared with family or lovers – those closest to them.

Atel hesitated, caught off guard by Beatty’s straightforward question. He knew he needed to tread carefully, balancing his growing affection for this intriguing little girl with the secrets he was bound to keep.

“Hmm. Is that a secret you only tell the stars?”

“Secret? Yeah, it’s a secret only the stars could know.”

Strangely, Ather found no trace of irritation within himself.

‘Her twinkling curiosity is endearing,’ he thought, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

Shaking his head imperceptibly, as if surrendering to an inevitable tide, Ather spoke, his words measured and soft.

“We are naturally gifted with abilities related to celestial matters.”

“Celestial?” she echoed, the word floating between them like a wisp of cloud.

“Things governed by the sky,” he explained, his voice as soothing as a lullaby.

“We can manipulate rain, thunder, mist – elements of the heavens.”

Her face lit up with understanding.

“Ah! So that’s why you can control clouds, Atel.”

“Well… yes, that’s part of it,” he replied, his tone carrying a hint of something more.

Beatty nodded, her gaze drifting to the dark clouds surrounding them, a silent testament to Ather’s power. Her comprehension was as clear as a cloudless sky.

Ather returned her nod with a vague affirmation, his thoughts drifting like leaves on a gentle current.

‘It’s not just clouds, though.’

A moment of contemplative silence passed, broken only by the soft rustle of leaves. Then, Beatty’s voice, tinged with wonder, posed another question.

“So, Atel, is it possible to have two innate abilities?”

“Multiple innate abilities?” Ather echoed, surprise painting his features.

He hadn’t expected such a question from his little star, and for a moment, he was as still as the calm before a storm, pondering the depths of her innocent inquiry.