As the blood rain continued to pour outside, Beatrice sat back in her seat, pulling out her GrimoPhone with a casual flick of her wrist. Rookie, still on edge, couldn’t help but glance at her. She had already scrolled past several screens and was now settling on a video.

“Want to watch something to take your mind off it?” Beatrice offered, without looking up.

Rookie, a bit hesitant at first, nodded. Anything to distract him from the thought of Bloodkillers lurking outside. He shuffled closer and peered over Beatrice’s shoulder, watching as she tapped a few more buttons to bring up WizardMedia—a streaming platform popular among wizards for entertainment, tutorials, and everything in between.

“What’s this?” Rookie asked, his voice a little higher than usual.

Beatrice grinned. “Just some funny wizard videos. You know, the usual stuff. Watch and learn.”

Rookie found himself laughing at the antics of wizards getting caught in ridiculous spells, accidentally transforming their robes into frogs or trying to cast levitation on inanimate objects that somehow came to life with a vengeance. For a brief moment, the absurdity of the situation outside seemed to fade away. The blood rain, the lurking Bloodkillers—none of it mattered as he watched a wizard accidentally summon a dancing broomstick that refused to stop sweeping.

But his brief escape was shattered when something caught his eye out the window. A shadow, shifting unnaturally, moved close to the glass. Rookie’s blood ran cold as he saw a grotesque, liquid form pressing against the window, its elongated, blood-soaked fingers stretching toward the glass. His stomach twisted.

“Beatrice...” he whispered, his voice tight. “Beatrice, look—”

Before he could finish, Beatrice’s gaze flicked toward the window, her eyes narrowing with an almost imperceptible shift in her expression. With a casual motion, she flicked her fingers as if brushing away an insignificant speck of dust.

The Bloodkiller, just inches away from the glass, suddenly disintegrated in a shower of red mist, leaving nothing behind. Not even a drop of blood remained on the window.

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Rookie gaped at the empty space. “What... what did you just do?”

Beatrice casually returned her attention to her GrimoPhone. “Nothing,” she said with a slight shrug, as if obliterating a creature made of blood was an everyday occurrence for her. “Don’t worry about it.”

Rookie’s curiosity was now piqued more than ever. He had always known Beatrice was powerful, but this? This was something else. Something he didn’t fully understand. She didn’t even flinch when she destroyed that Bloodkiller—just like it was no more difficult than swatting a fly.

He couldn’t contain himself any longer. “Beatrice…” he started, a mix of awe and confusion in his voice. “How did you... become like this? Powerful, I mean. And—how did you become a princess?”

Beatrice paused, but only for a moment. Her eyes were still glued to the screen of her phone, and she didn’t seem all that interested in his question. “I trained,” she said simply, swiping past another video. “A lot. And the princess thing? I bought the dress with money from people I’ve helped. Simple as that.”

Rookie blinked. “Wait... what? You bought your way into being a princess?”

Beatrice shrugged again, still not looking at him. “In a way. It’s not like I have the time to deal with all the formal stuff. And honestly, I don’t care for all that bureaucracy.”

Rookie’s eyes widened in disbelief. “You—what? I thought you were, like, an actual princess, like, with a castle and everything.”

“I do have a castle,” she replied, her voice flat. “But that’s about as far as it goes. I don’t do coronations or fancy dinners. Too much politics. I just... help people. And that’s enough for me.”

Rookie was silent for a moment, processing everything. He had always assumed Beatrice was royalty in the traditional sense, born into power. But this? She bought her way into it? It didn’t make sense, and yet... he didn’t doubt her. Something about Beatrice’s effortless demeanor made it clear that she could do whatever she set her mind to.

He wanted to ask more—about her past, about her training, about how she had come to possess such control over magic—but something in Beatrice’s tone made it clear that this was a topic she didn’t want to delve into. She had already moved on to the next video, clearly more interested in the wizard antics than talking about her own history.

Rookie sighed, accepting her unspoken request. He couldn’t push her on this, not when she didn’t want to share. “I guess... we should just watch more videos, then?”

“Yeah,” Beatrice muttered, her fingers tapping on her GrimoPhone. “Let’s just wait out the rain.”

And so, they sat in silence, the soft sound of wizard laughter filling the room as the blood rain continued outside.

Hours passed, but for Rookie, with Beatrice’s calm presence beside him, it didn’t feel so bad. There was still a lot he didn’t understand about her—but that was okay. He’d have to be patient. Some mysteries weren’t meant to be solved in a single day.