"Setting aside whether Lady Patchouli would even like the salted egg yolk one... you're saving catnip for a Feline? Do you even know what that stuff actually is?" Hong Meiling pointed at the box, her eyes wide with total disbelief.
"I know!" Flandre blinked, looking thoroughly pleased with herself. "It's just catnip, that's why I picked it!"
Hong Meiling stared fixedly at Flandre for a long moment, carefully confirming that the little girl genuinely believed this was a great idea rather than just having a sudden lapse in judgment to cause chaos.
"Fine, fine... then we'll leave it for Beatrice!" Meiling sighed, throwing up her hands.
"What are you two whispering about?"
Just then, Patchouli strolled back into the living room from her study. Reaching out with practiced ease, she ruffled Flandre's soft hair before asking, "Did something happen?"
"Nothing much! Lady Fumizuki had a box of fresh pastries sent over," Meiling replied. "We saw you hadn't returned yet, so we were just debating which flavor to save for you."
Patchouli glanced down at the lacquer box, casually selected a pastry, and popped a bite into her mouth. She chewed thoughtfully for a second before nodding. "Not bad."
Flandre peeked into the container, then immediately turned her head toward Meiling. "The salted egg yolk one is yours!"
"Why aren't you eating it?" Meiling retorted, folding her arms.
"I don't really like it!" Flandre answered with complete honesty.
"No way, children shouldn't be picky eaters!" With a smirk, Meiling pushed the salted egg yolk pastry directly in front of Flandre.
Looking at the pastry sitting right before her nose, Flandre's red eyes darted around, and a clever scheme instantly formed in her mind. She took her sweet time, dawdling and nibbling with absolute leisure until the sky outside grew dark. Just as Beatrice finally returned home after a long day of work, Flandre had systematically finished all the other snacks, leaving only the salted egg yolk and catnip pastries in the box.
The instant Beatrice walked through the door, Flandre picked up the container and trotted over to claim credit.
"Sister Beatrice, come have some dessert! I specifically saved these two for you!"
Beatrice had no idea what kind of scheme Flandre was plotting. Hearing that the little girl had specifically reserved sweets just for her, her tired face instantly lit up, and the heavy exhaustion from a full day of duty vanished without a trace.
"Good, good, good! You really are my favorite little Flandre. Hold on, let me wash my hands first!" Beatrice beamed, heading straight toward the bathroom.
At that moment, Flandre caught Meiling's watchful gaze from across the room. Realizing that letting Beatrice wash her hands might give her time to inspect the box and derail the plan, Flandre quickly picked up the salted egg yolk pastry and held it right up to Beatrice's lips.
"Let me feed you, sister... Ah~~~"
Sensing no trickery whatsoever, Beatrice happily opened her mouth and took a big bite.
"Little Flandre is so thoughtful," Beatrice murmured contentedly, chewing and swallowing the rich pastry before stroking Flandre's long golden hair. "How did you know I liked the salted egg yolk flavor?"
"Hehe, I'm glad you like it! Here's another one!" Flandre giggled, immediately picking up the catnip pastry and handing it over.
Beatrice swallowed it in one go, smacking her lips in satisfaction. "What flavor is this? It's actually pretty good~~"
Flashing a happy smile, she sauntered lazily toward the living room sofa. But the second her boots reached the rug, her knees went soft. She collapsed onto the cushions, curled into a tight ball, and started rolling around while letting out a soft, hazy "meow-hoo~"
???
"Looking at her like this... is she drunk?" Meiling asked uncertainly, watching Beatrice roll around with hazy eyes and flushed pink cheeks.
"Can Felines actually get drunk on catnip? Now that is a subject worth researching," Patchouli remarked, stepping over and adjusting her glasses with academic curiosity.
"That doesn't add up," Flandre said, tilting her head in confusion. "If Felines can get controlled by catnip like that, then Lupos shouldn't be able to eat chocolate. But Texas eats Pocky sticks all day without any problems!"
After all, if a Feline could be incapacitated by a simple herb, it defied the logical physical rules she knew about the races of Terra.
"Individual physical constitution, maybe?" Meiling offered tentatively.
"We aren't medical doctors, but... shouldn't we move her back to her bedroom?" Patchouli suggested.
Flandre leaned over the sofa to get a closer look at Beatrice's condition, only for a pair of arms to suddenly shoot out and lock around her waist.
"Whoa!"
The two bystanders couldn't help but stifle their laughter as Beatrice wrapped herself around Flandre like a giant plush doll, falling fast asleep with a silly, contented grin on her face.
Flandre squirmed, trying to wriggle free from the iron embrace, but failed entirely. While it would be effortless for her to snap the hold using her true strength, doing so would inevitably break Beatrice's bones. Realizing she couldn't break free without causing harm, Flandre simply gave up, closed her eyes, and fell asleep right on top of her.
Seeing the sofa completely occupied by the two of them, Meiling sighed with a hint of genuine envy. She had always felt that plush sofa was vastly more comfortable for napping than her own bed, and she had fully intended to sleep there tonight. Seeing it taken, she had no choice but to head back to her own bedroom.
Patchouli waved her hand to dim the living room lights, turning back toward her study to read late into the night.
By the next morning, as the first faint rays of dawn began to light up the horizon, Beatrice slowly drifted back to consciousness.
Waking up from her bizarre "hangover," she was startled to discover that she was sleeping on the living room sofa—and tightly clutching Flandre in her arms like a long bolster.
She winced, rubbing her throbbing temples. "Uh... what in the world happened to me?"
Recalling the previous night, she remembered walking through the front door, eating two delicious pastries fed to her by Flandre, and then... absolute blankness.
Pastries...
Hiss! It was catnip!
The realization hit her like a bucket of ice water. Many Felines possessed an intense sensitivity—or functional "allergy"—to high-concentrate catnip. She happened to be one of them. While human allergies brought rashes or swelling, her specific neurological reaction was an immediate, overwhelming anesthesia of her brain, making her act like she had downed three bottles of heavy grain liquor.
Judging by how fast she had blacked out, the concentration in that pastry must have been ridiculously potent—a true ninety-nine percent purity!
As for why Flandre was currently pinned under her arm... well, she had been totally hammered, so how could she possibly remember?
Fortunately, the little girl was still sleeping peacefully, breathing evenly. Beatrice let out a massive sigh of relief, confirming she hadn't accidentally crushed her in her sleep.
Carefully extricating herself from the cushions, Beatrice crept off to the bathroom to take a refreshing shower. When she emerged drying her ears with a towel, she found Flandre wide awake, sitting upright on the sofa and staring attentively at the television screen.
"The morning news? You actually watch this stuff?" Beatrice asked, walking over with her usual relaxed, feline stride before flopping down beside her.
"Because the other morning programs are super boring!" Flandre answered with complete honesty.
"Pfft~~" Beatrice couldn't hold it in, bursting into a bright laugh.
Just then, the front door clicked open. The maid sisters entered the residence, bowing respectfully to the two before heading straight into the kitchen to begin preparing breakfast.
Beatrice pulled Flandre closer, her tone turning gentle yet serious as she explained why she shouldn't give Felines catnip-infused snacks in the future.
"An allergic reaction? That really sounds dangerous..." Hearing the explanation, Flandre looked up with genuine concern. "Are you really okay, Sister Beatrice? Do we need to go to the hospital?"
"No, no need. For me, eating too much catnip just makes me pass out drunk, like last night," Beatrice reassured her, reaching out to give Flandre's hair a affectionate ruffle. "But for some other Felines, it can be much more severe—causing breathing difficulties or terrible skin rashes."
Brushing a strand of hair behind her ear, Beatrice smiled brightly. "By the way, there's a big motorcycle rally happening out in the Lungmen Outer Ring this weekend. How about we go watch the races together?"