Bijou's mind was a whirlwind of emotions.
How could she—Bijou, of all people—be threatened by such a small, fragile girl?
Withdraw? That word doesn't exist in Bijou's dictionary. Not in the past, not now, and not ever.
The thought brought a surge of confidence back to her. She faced Nadeen's gaze without a hint of fear, even flashing a slightly sinister smile.
"Oh, I'm looking forward to seeing just what kind of consequences you're talking about," Bijou responded calmly. "Threats are just the desperate growls of a cornered beast, flaring its fur in an attempt to appear fearsome. Just wait and see—let's see who comes out on top."
With that, Bijou brushed past Nadeen, not waiting for her to retort. At that moment, Bijou couldn't help but feel a rush of satisfaction—she felt like she had just nailed it.
However, once she returned to her room, her mind began racing again.
There was no way she could rely on just a DNA result to secure her victory. Bijou knew that to win, she needed to take proactive steps.
But what exactly could she do in this palace, where guards patrolled every corner? Bijou flopped onto her bed, rolling back and forth, frustrated.
"Aha! I know what to do first," she murmured, a plan forming in her mind.
***
What Bijou meant was getting close to young Prince Sandy. She believed it was a smart move, because in a situation like this, any woman with a strategic mind would try to charm two people: the young prince and the King of Figurati, Dennis.
But seducing the King was a whole different ball game.
So, taking note of how Nadeen acted toward the boy at breakfast, Bijou decided that her first step should be understanding the strange, silent child's preferences and winning his favor.
That night, Bijou wandered down to the kitchen and began chatting up the chefs. She made sure to bring along a notebook and a pen.
"Hello there," Bijou greeted one of the chefs warmly, focusing on the one wearing a large star on his white hat—most likely the head chef.
The chefs had been instructed to treat the two women staying in the palace with utmost respect since one of them might turn out to be Prince Sandy's mother.
The head chef returned her greeting with a courteous bow and a friendly smile.
"What brings you here at this hour, Miss?"
"Oh, nothing too important. I just wanted to thank you for tonight's dinner. The dishes were so beautifully presented and delicious—unlike anything I've ever tasted before."
"Your compliment is much appreciated, Miss," the chef replied with a polite nod.
"Actually, I wanted to meet the genius behind such culinary delights, and also… ask if you could tell me about Prince Sandy's favorite foods. You see, I really want to make it up to him…" Bijou trailed off, trying to sound as genuine as possible, as if she truly believed herself to be Sandy's rightful mother.
The head chef saw no reason to withhold the information, so he launched into a detailed description of the prince's preferences.
"The prince only eats the eyes of the fish."
"He doesn't like beef soup cooked with tomatoes."
"And for apple pie… it needs to be loaded with black pepper…"
What? Apple pie with black pepper? That was downright bizarre.
Bijou scribbled down every word the chef said, hoping it would help her in her plans.
But that wasn't all she had in mind—Bijou intended to sneak into Sandy's room as well.
"Sneak" might not be the right word. She merely loitered around the boy's door, waiting for a chance to slip inside. If caught, she already had a reason ready: she was so overcome with motherly longing for the boy that she just had to see his room.
Sandy wasn't in his room. He was likely in the study with his father at this hour. Bijou had seen him earlier, nose buried in a thick book, reading with utmost concentration. This child was truly peculiar.
"Oh… what's going on here?"
Sandy's room was… well, just a room. It wasn't decorated according to his taste at all.
A five-year-old boy's room, plain and sterile, with white curtains, white bedding, and not a single toy in sight. Only a large bookshelf.
No favorite colors, no favorite toys, no personal touches… Bijou found nothing of use there. Disappointed, she headed back to her own quarters.
Back in her room, Bijou collapsed onto her chair, stretching out her arms in frustration.
Her hand brushed against something soft.
"Oh my god!" she yelped, leaping out of her seat.
There was something huge, camouflaged with the exact same pattern as the wooden vase beside it, crouched behind the vase.
Something huge… it couldn't be an animal, right? It was far too big.
Could it be… a person?
Just as Bijou's heart began to race, Maxime stepped out from his hiding place, grinning sheepishly. If he hadn't revealed himself, Bijou would've probably fainted on the spot. That was one awful hiding spot.
"Sorry, I was just… trying to spice things up a bit," Maxime said, scratching his head awkwardly, clearly feeling bad for startling her.
"I've managed to complete the task you assigned me the other day…" Maxime got straight to the point.
Bijou raised a finger to her lips, signaling him to stay quiet. She peeked out into the hallway to make sure no one was there, then closed and locked the door.
"Okay, no one's around. That's how I managed to slip in. I've got Nadeen's background information."
Bijou held her breath, waiting.
"It's not what we thought. Nadeen is just an ordinary Omega. She comes from a normal family in a normal town. Her father, Beta Leeroy, is just a shoemaker. Since she was little, Nadeen was resented by her neighbors because of her natural beauty."
"What? The daughter of a shoemaker?" Bijou was skeptical.
If that was true, then Nadeen had no powerful backer supporting her.
And if she had no support, how could a simple country girl like Nadeen maneuver her way into the palace?
Could it really just be a malfunction of the testing machine?
A multitude of questions flooded Bijou's mind. Maxime shared her confusion. But no matter how much they disliked the idea, one unsettling thought began to surface—one that could crush all their plans if it turned out to be true.
"Could it be… that Nadeen is really the woman Dennis has been searching for?"
With looks like hers, it wouldn't be surprising if Dennis had taken a liking to her. If that were the case, the possibility that she was Sandy's real mother couldn't be ruled out.
Bijou recalled the look Nadeen had given her that morning when she issued her threat. It was cold, but confident—like she believed every word she said.
If that were true, then things were bad. Very bad. All of Bijou's efforts would go down the drain if Nadeen really was Sandy's mother.
Just as Bijou and Maxime shared this terrifying realization, footsteps echoed from the far end of the hallway.
Slow, steady, deliberate. Not the hurried steps of a servant.
The sound stopped right outside Bijou's door.
If not a servant, who would come to see her at this hour?
The mysterious figure knocked, and a familiar voice called out.
"Bijou, are you still awake?"
That voice… it could only be Dennis.