"Greetings, my dear master—ah! Ow! Ouch!"
Bang, bang, bang!
Under Grin's repeated swings, the nail gradually sank into the bookshelf while the magic mirror screamed like a man being beaten with his own résumé.
"Wait, Master, stop hitting me! At least tell me what I did wrong this time!"
"Haven't you done enough evil already? I've remembered every bit of it. Do you think it all resets tomorrow?"
Grin showed no mercy and kept hammering.
Before long, one bookshelf had been repaired.
Just as the magic mirror thought it had survived the ordeal, Beatrice raised one small finger and pointed toward the other side of the library.
"There are more than ten shelves over there that are loose too."
"Nooooo!"
The magic mirror howled at the heavens.
Grin held it up in front of him and sneered.
"I fed you so many monster souls yesterday and all you did was eat. If I don't use you as a hammer, what exactly am I keeping you around for?"
"Master, you can't think like that!"
"You're using me to hammer nails! That's like using siege artillery to kill a mosquito!"
"Think about it! First, I can help you hypnotize the woman you like, and second, I can help you secretly record them while they bathe—waaah—!"
Grin lunged in panic and clamped the mirror shut before it could continue.
Beatrice cast both of them a look of pure contempt.
"Do not say such filthy things in Betty's room. The air itself feels polluted."
Then her eyes narrowed.
"You haven't already used those disgusting abilities on the people in this mansion, have you?"
"No. Absolutely not. Definitely not."
Grin denied it three times in a row, all while looking just a little too reluctant to meet her eyes.
So far, after all, the hypnotic ability had only been used on Beatrice.
And Great Spirits probably did not count, right?
"Hmph. How revolting."
Beatrice lowered her head and returned to reading.
It took nearly half an hour to finish repairing all the loose bookshelves.
By the end of it, the magic mirror looked half dead.
It lay trembling on the table, conjured one wobbly little hand, and pointed accusingly like a courtroom witness.
"I'm reporting you! I'm going to testify against you, you super-perverted patient! That short one over there—while she was sleeping, you secretly took pictures of her—"
"You're spouting nonsense!"
Grin shouted and immediately tried to recall the mirror before it could say anything worse.
But the mirror had clearly anticipated this.
With a whoosh, it jumped straight into Beatrice's hands.
The surface rippled.
Then it displayed Beatrice sleeping quietly on her princess bed, looking small and soft and entirely unaware.
Beatrice froze.
She stared closely at the image.
Then she slid one finger across the mirror, switching to the next.
Silence filled the Forbidden Library.
The more she looked, the deeper her brows furrowed.
"Ah, I think someone's calling me," Grin said at once, already backing away. "Did you hear that, Betty? It must be little glutton Rem again. I'll go feed her right now. See you later!"
Using the ancient technique of inventing an emergency on the spot, he turned and ran.
He reached the door and twisted the handle hard.
Click. Click.
It would not open.
No matter how hard he turned it, the door stayed shut.
"This damned door is cursed."
Beatrice slowly lifted her gaze.
A cold magical gleam flickered in her silver-blue eyes.
With a flick of her fingers, a thin pale-purple rune shot out like a living thread and wrapped neatly around the back of Grin's collar.
Before he could react, it tightened—
and yanked him backward.
"Ow!"
He stumbled and fell right back in front of her.
Beatrice flipped the mirror around and held it up coldly.
"The earlier images all showed Betty alone, so one could argue that you simply admired Betty's cuteness."
"But what exactly were you thinking when you made this last one? If you do not explain yourself, Betty will beat you and throw you into the fertilizer pit downstairs."
Grin looked up in stunned confusion.
The image in the mirror showed him standing behind Beatrice's bed, one foot planted on the headboard, both middle fingers raised, glaring disdainfully at her sleeping face.
"What the hell is that?"
Grin could swear he had only ever documented adorable sleeping photos of Beatrice.
He absolutely had not taken that grotesque fake image.
"This was obviously forged by that bastard mirror!"
Beatrice blinked once.
"What does 'forged' mean?"
"It means fabricated. Fake. It set me up. I was clearly too lenient."
He immediately rolled up his sleeves, summoned the mirror back into his hand in a shower of light, and pulled out another nail with murderous intent.
The sharp tip gleamed ominously.
"You're finished, Wolgaroth…"
The magic mirror panicked and immediately cried for help.
"Save me! Save me! Your Highness, most noble and virtuous princess!"
"You called her shorty a moment ago."
"Master, I was possessed! I never meant to betray you! You have to believe me—ahhh! No!"
…
Even after that, Beatrice still looked unconvinced.
"Even if the last image was fake, the earlier ones must have been taken by you in secret."
"Betty… this is all your fault!"
Beatrice stared at him in complete disbelief.
"What kind of idiotic excuse is that?"
Her silver-blue eyes showed equal parts confusion and irritation.
Grin, however, adopted an expression of absolute seriousness.
"Don't you know? The greater a person's beauty, the greater their sin. Being too cute is an unforgivable crime."
"…Ha?"
Beatrice's face went blank with disbelief.
"Stop acting strange with Betty. Betty is not some doll you use for emotional comfort."
As she said that, she raised one small hand, ready to blast him away.
Buzz—
The bookshelves, floor, and walls of the Forbidden Library trembled faintly as her magic began to gather.
"Wait, Betty! I have another gift for you!"
Grin frantically searched his pockets and finally pulled out a small stack of cards, which he quickly offered with both hands.
He had actually prepared them in advance for the Great Spirit who spent all day shut up in this room.
Beatrice hesitated.
Then she stopped.
"What is that? It looks disgusting."
"These are playing cards. The source material is a bit disgusting, sure, but I made them out of Roswaal portraits and cut them down to proper size."
Grin spread them out for her to inspect.
Each card was neatly sized, with numbers or images drawn over old portrait prints.
For a moment, Beatrice said nothing.
Then she slowly picked up a few of them and looked closer.
As expected, Roswaal's deeply cursed face could still faintly be seen beneath the designs.
"This is a portrait of the first Roswaal, Roswaal A. Mathers. It's practically an antique with nearly four hundred years of history. And now it's just scrap paper."
Grin curled his lip.
"With that family's hereditary taste in clothing, who'd want to buy it anyway?"
Beatrice's eyes lowered slightly.
Her lips, usually sharp with irritation, unconsciously pressed into a straight line.
Looking at Grin's absurdly innocent face, she raised a hand and scratched irritably at the hair near her temple.
Then she let out a breath.
"So… you are saying you gave Betty something that even you yourself find disgusting?"
"How could that be? This is a proper game prop. Let me explain the rules first…"