Chapter Text
March 7th, 1512 of the Sea Circle Calendar (Kaienreki).
A bit aways from the border in Goa Kingdom’s Gray Terminal met Dawn Island’s Midway Forest, Ace scowled at the empty space beside an otherwise inconspicuous tree. A deceptively small hollow at the tree’s base serving as the hiding spot for any treasure collected and compiled from the trash of Gray Terminal over the years.
Close enough to Gray Terminal that skittish wildlife — and thus the more dangerous jungle-like fauna — avoided the area, but also deep enough into the woods that most pursuers would give up rather than risk it. Thus ensuring any trash-found-treasure or stolen goods could be smuggled safely without distraction.
Though, as of three years ago, the place had become somewhat of a communal treasure stash. An acquaintance Ace had made in a blond boy from Gray Terminal about his own age named Sabo, who had convinced the distrusting freckled boy that they should work together to establish their “pirate funds”.
Yet, as Ace moved to add his lastest loot to the hoard, he found nothing displaced or added since his deposit yesterday. Just as it’d been the previous day before that.
He wasn’t sure what to think about that fact. Whilst this space mainly acted as their treasure stash, it’d also grown to double as a meet up spot between the two.
After all, while Sabo lived alone in some corner of Gray Terminal, Ace lived with the Dadan Family — a group of mountain bandits settled on Mount Colubo (also referred to as Mt. Corvo) — who were located deeper in the jungle a little ways from Foosha Village, a port village about a days travel from Goa by boat.
As such, more often than not, the two only saw each other when they were depositing loot, working together for a robbery, or planning said robberies. And while there were certainly days where they didn’t bump into each other at the tree, out in the Terminal, or in the city, oddly enough it’s never happened like this.
His typically timely friend — only one too, that is if they could even really be called friends — failing to show for the third time. A third time consecutively, which would normally just pinch at Ace’s nerves — annoying since there was an interesting rumor going around the Terminal — but this was the third no show in the last week with no change to their stash besides what Ace added himself.
It was making Ace paranoid. Did Sabo grow tired of dealing with his temper? Should Ace move the treasure stash? It didn’t help that only three weeks prior Ace had finally told Sabo his origins. Was the blond planning something? Was he going to turn Ace in? Had Sabo lied about not caring about the blood running through Ace’s veins? Did Sabo finally realize that that Ace wasn’t worth it? That Ace didn’t deserve any of it?
Behind all the self-doubt, self-hatred, and shame, Ace worried — not about the very real possibility that the other had simply decided the hot-head was too much trouble but — that something had happened to Sabo. That the blond that was the closest thing Ace had ever had to a friend was in danger. That maybe Bluejam and his crew managed to catch him, or the city guards, or the various gangs of homeless bums in the Terminal.
Maybe Sabo was severely injured and stuck under a collapsed pile of trash, maybe he was simply sick or maybe he was already dead. He held steadfast to the belief that Sabo could take care of himself. Refusing to acknowledge his worries and shoving them away into the depths of his caged heart, because acknowledging them meant admitting that he cared about Sabo.
Shrugging those worries away only left his mind free to consider his own worthlessness and the likely possibility that’d he’d been abandoned or betrayed. His calloused fists clenching and unclenching as he paced the area around the tree, his racing mind spiraling into a vortex of self-hate.
See Ace had a certain bad habit, one that often made itself known at the worst of times — like now, when he was feeling unsure of his worth and place in the world. Since he was basically an infant he’d had a temper on him, one that he’d only learned to fuel with the fires of his self-hatred into a blinding rage that desired little more than to scorch everything — even himself — into but a pile of ash. A rage that he could only release with a bruising adrenaline-rushed fight. One made all the more dangerous as his spiraling mind had him seeking out proof of his devil nature, while also desiring punishment for his twisted lacking existence.
A habit that had him slipping into the bars and taverns of Goa Kingdom’s Town Center and Edge Town whenever he was alone and looking for a beating. Foolishly asking drunk old men with petty lives and pettier attitudes, questions. Questions that never gave him the answers he wanted but brought him the punishing pain he believed he deserved.
Thus as he always did, he went searching for distraction in rage, pain, and adrenaline. Anything to keep him from his own mind.
Three days prior…
March 4th, 1512 of the Sea Circle Calendar (Kaienreki).
It’d been a long hellish week away from the Gray Terminal for Sabo — to the point that the ten-year-old would even say he missed the bums of the trash heap. All because of an error of judgment that had him taking a risk that resulted in a mistake that led into a series of them. It was like climbing up a hill only to trip, and by the time you realize what happened find yourself rolling downward with unstoppable momentum.
A downright idiotically foolish mistake brought about by his own careless arrogance and greed. He hadn’t even noticed he’d become so complacent, long having grown used to Ace being around to cover for him. Complacent enough to think he’s skilled enough to swipe some books from the Goa Library in High Town alone.
Maybe if Ace had come along they’d stood a real chance at success, but Ace didn’t see the appeal of books — he wasn’t desperate like Sabo for knowledge on the world — especially not in the face of glittering jewels and gold that would serve as useful additions to their pirate fund stash.
If he’d been smarter about it, Sabo probably could’ve convinced Ace to help by pointing it out as practice for robbing a house in High Town. Then again for as moronic and reckless as Ace could be the boy was rather steadfast in his refusal to go anywhere near High Town due to fear of capture — it had confused Sabo at first, Ace wasn’t the kind of person who thought much about consequences, but now knowing the blood that ran in the boy’s veins it made sense.
Sabo should have listened to Ace. He’d been right when he said the reward of entering — let alone robbing — High Town just wasn’t worth the risks. If he’d listened and had just gone back to his little corner of the trash heap that was Gray Terminal, maybe he wouldn’t be in this mess. A pending disaster bearing consequences far worse than anything getting caught in High Town would ever entail, that Sabo was helping orchestrate.
But noooo…
The moment Ace was out of sight, Sabo moved to throughly wash away the grim of the trash heap that he typically allowed to cling to his skin and clothes in the nearby stream. The grim which helped hide away the expensive, though thoroughly worn fabric of his clothes, that hid away his “noble” air. And then he’d returned to their treasure stash to dig up a worn badge a little ways from the hollow.
I’m such a bastard, Sabo thought to himself with no small amount of self-deprecation. He’d sat there acknowledging Ace’s concerns — concerns that Ace wouldn’t have ever brought up unless he trusted liked Sabo — even promised the other boy he wouldn’t do anything stupid.
Looked those mercury eyes, which had but three weeks ago been wide in fear as Ace confessed his own origins, in the face and lied. Letting his tongue run false acceptance of concerns, and promises of staying put, knowing he wouldn’t be keeping them. Turning tail the second the other’s back was to him, to dust off his “past life”.
I’m really no better than them, am I? Sabo thought despairingly. He’d escaped proclaiming he was nothing like his blood, yet when it suited him apparently he had no problem dusting off the hat so to speak.
Marching into High Town like he belonged there — and once upon a time, he did — was undoubtedly daring, but in the trash heap that was now his home it was arrogance of the highest, most idiotic order. Was it not karma then that he walked right into the very past that haunted him, not even a foot past the gate?
His nose throbbing and red from where it smacked into the broad stern chest of the man who shared his blood. Sabo’s practiced irritation lost the second he took sight of his father’s face.
He hadn’t even gotten close to the library. And before he was even aware, he found himself being corralled to his old home, the room that had served as a cold prison for the first five formative years of his life. The very place that he had fled five years earlier.
Sabo laughed bitterly to himself about his own cowardice. He’d been seized with terror in the face of his father — or sperm donor, as Ace would say — and given the choice of imprisonment for the rest of his short life or offered a chance to be left alone for a favor, well it wasn’t much of a choice. He should’ve paid close attention to the fact it was only a chance to be left alone, not a promise. Not that a promise would matter much, those of his blood rarely kept their word.
The pristine manor, no matter the servants running about or the color brought by the tidy garden greens, was the same lifelessly stagnant and cold building it’d been when he left it.
It made his skin crawl. Nothing had changed, not the house, not his father, not even the way his mother welcomed them home with a scrunched nose as she took in the state of Sabo’s patchwork of five year old formal clothes.
No, the only change was the inclusion of a wiry thin pug-faced blond, whose face was sharp in the way of poor commoner children, that came screeching down the manor’s stairs. A brat at most five years of age, with his nose to the sky like he was worth something, like he belonged in the lap of luxury, despite likely being the result of the disgusting “conquests amongst commoner fifth” of Sabo’s father. There was no doubt in Sabo’s mind, this kid — “The name’s Sterry, peasant!” The brat had exclaimed with an undeniable accent of those in middle town — was meant to be his replacement.
It was revolting. All of it. How they look down on the blood of others, of those they deem the lower-class, keeping their noses in the sky at the sight of peasants. Yet the moment their very own flesh and blood disobeys them, they replace him with one of those very children that they’d sneered at on the street for having lesser blood not a day prior.
It was that very hypocrisy of theirs, that constant sucking up to their “superiors” and sneering down at their “inferiors”, that had him running away to live in a trash heap at five years old.
Still it wasn’t a pleasant discovery, learning you’d been replaced without a word. Though the fact that Sabo’s mother looked distinctly uncomfortable with Sterry’s presence in the manor — likely less to do with the five-year-old’s commoner blood and more to do with being forced to care for one of her husband’s bastards as her own — eased the hurt just a bit.
That discomfort likely less to do with the five or six year old’s commoner blood and more to do with being forced, not just face her husband’s infidelity, but to have to care for one of his bastards as her own. Sabo knew his parents had never loved each other, so his father’s actions were of no surprise. But his mother hates children and had struggled enough with loving Sabo, who was born from her own womb. So being forced to take in another woman’s child, told she not just had to raise it but claim it as her own… well, Sabo would bet a good chunk of his collected treasure that she would’ve rather the mistress married into the family and did it herself.
His mother had always been slightly better than his father in all regards. She in the very least, cared for Sabo as her son to some extent. She still undoubtedly viewed him as a failure, never bragging about him to her peers, unable to take pride in him when he did not fit the standard mold for noble sons of Goa. But despite this, she never tossed him aside as was demanded of their society, she loved him as a mother with the utmost of her limited capacity.
Of course, he hadn’t realized that back then. Hadn’t noticed the way she advised him rather than ordered. Nor the oddity that someone as materialistic and vain as her did not notice or throw a fit over bits of her jewelry going missing those first weeks as he prepared for his new life as a runaway. Not to mention, the bits that were added to his old hiding stash by the manor long after he ceased using it.
However disapproving and disappointed she was regarding Sabo’s choices, she was willing to accept that the life of a noble wasn’t what he wanted. Though, this certainly didn’t change the fact that she was unwilling to interact with the lower class.¹
Despite the less than stellar circumstances, Sabo could admit a small part of him was happy to be able to spend time with his mother again. Even if that time was spent in refresher courses on etiquette, noble protocol, and being filled in on the lastest gossip. Regardless of this minimal level of enjoyment, he still found being locked away in his room to be a miserable experience.
And though it blessedly kept his interactions with Sterry to a minimum, the isolation was getting to him. To the point Sabo was beginning to miss Ace and his volcanic temper.
Thankfully, as he was stuffed into a suffocating pair of dress-robes and dragged from his confinement, it didn’t seem like he’d be struck much longer. Standing before the docks of the city port with only the salty breeze and cool waves for pleasant company, the sun felt heavenly on his skin after an entire week without it.
Not that he was alone, with the bigoted couple that he had the misfortune of calling his parents beside him. Plus the royal sister of the asshole prince that attacked him years ago — the very reason he’d decided to run away in the first place — who Sabo was apparently engaged too, or that he had to pretend he was engaged too.
He was pretty sure her name was something like Sally or Sarah, he only remembered there being a “Sa”somewhere in it. And while Sabo absolutely didn’t want to take Sterry’s place in marrying her, she didn’t seem downright awful enough to be punished with a spouse like Sterry. Even if the yellow-orange dress with white daisy motifs was hurting his eyes and he thought the feather in her hair looked ridiculous.
Then again, they hadn’t exactly gotten to interact much despite waiting around the docks for the last two hours with her. Through no fault of his own either, as his parents couldn’t afford for the princess to get to know him only to find out later that he wasn’t Sterry.
Which was precisely why his father’s hand was gripping his shoulder with a strength that honestly surprised Sabo as the man worked to keep him out of the princess’s sight.
If he didn’t feel so stifled at the moment Sabo might have even been amused by the bruising grip that basically screamed how desperately they needed him here — as much as he hated his parents it still hurt to discover how they had so easily replaced him, though the replacement was obviously not yet ready for such last minute public appearances.
Honestly, Sabo doubted they’d let Sterry out of the manor for another year or so as the boy’s manners were exceptionally poor. There was also the matter of ridding him of that clear middle-class accent of his too. Though he’d admit that the brat already had the spoiled arrogance and bigot attitude that seemed inherent to the upper class of Goa down to a science.
As little as Sabo desired to be here his parents had done a brilliant job of convincing him to behave for the short duration of a week or two before they’d all happily go their separate ways. Though, he was beginning to doubt his father would actually let him leave. But it didn’t matter when it gave him time to rob them as an apology for disappearing on Ace.
Admittedly, a bigger part of his obedience was out of curiosity to see the person that could throw not only his parents but various other nobles into such a frenzy.
He read about World Nobles, also known as the Celestial Dragons ( Tenryūbito, literally meaning "Heavenly Dragon Folk" despite them being neither heavenly nor dragon folk). One would be hard pressed to find a modern history book that didn’t at least mention the aristocratic descendants of nineteen of the First Twenty families, who established what is now known as the World Government.
Sabo would swear he’d heard enough about them from his parents fawning and daydreaming over becoming one for his ears to fall off.
And from what Sabo had been told one of those Tenryūbito , had decided to pay a visit to the Goa Kingdom of Dawn Island.
Now, one would think that with how much his parents idolized Celestial Dragons that they would have attempted to organize some kind of elaborate entertainment for the visitor, and you’d certainly be right as a certain event taking place no more than a year into the future would confirm.²
Only his parents hadn’t been aware of the visiting Tenryūbito until last minute leaving them no time to adequately prepare. Not that they could’ve done anything too grand with the absence of the royal family — not counting the princess — not to mention, the Tenryūbito supposedly ordered that their arrival be kept hush-hush.
(Sabo was actually pretty worried that the Tenryūbito would take offense to their presence here.)
By the Seas, the only reason his parents even knew about it was because the princess had accidentally let it slip to Sabo’s mother, who was acting as her Instructor in etiquette. From there his dad had pressured the princess into bringing them along as the family of her fiancé.
But such pressure also resulted in the Royal Advisors deciding this would be a great opportunity for the princess — who was notoriously difficult to please in her search for a partner — to meet and test her fiancé. Which brought about the unfortunate consequence of his parents being desperate for Sabo — who’d made it all the easier for them by strutting into High Town — to play dress up, correctly guessing that he’d yet to forget any of the noble etiquette they beat into him since birth.
It wasn’t a great position to be in, even if everything went well with the Tenryūbito, Sabo could easily be charged for impersonating a royal-to-be later on. Though he wouldn’t go down alone, as his parents would hopefully be dragged along for being accomplices. But Sabo was determined to get something out of this, be it riches for Ace and his pirate fund, or ruining his parents’ chance to join the ranks of the Tenryūbito.
As he tried to think of the positives, he desperately ignored the rolling of his gut that told him this would result in far more chaos than he was equipped to handle.
Few hours earlier…
March 4th, 1512 of the Sea Circle Calendar (Kaienreki).
Cale hummed to himself fixing what he’d long dubbed his “Guppy Attire” much to the amusement of Shanks and the crew, which was the basic uniform of Tenryūbito³ consisting of a white robe that oddly resembles a spacesuit with a skirt. Although the border designs of Cale’s robe were unique even amongst World Nobles with spiraling red dragons reminiscent of the Red Force’s Figurehead — an amusing call-back to the Thames Household’s apparent Scandinavian spirit.
Though it should be noted that Cale steadfastly refused to adhere to the rest of the dress code. As World Nobles typically wear their hair, or a part of it, combed upward with a distinct curl at its peak, unless of course they do not have enough hair to do so. But many also tended to wear something Cale dubbed “The Fish Tank” while outside Mary Geoise, which basically amounted to an oxygen tank attached to a bubble or glass case around their head in order to not breathe the same air as “lowly commoners".
Cale’s skin crawled every time he had to don the outfit, especially when it had his mind drifting to memories of his unfortunate encounters with pigs like St. Charlos.
Don’t get Cale wrong, he looked absolutely gorgeous in it. Especially with his scarlet hair down to frame his face and the contrast against his hair with the sparkling blue and silver of his feather orbed Sea-Stone earring. That didn’t change how uncomfortable he felt in the uniform — it was different from donning the Real Arms outfit, at least when he wore that Cale didn’t feel like he was condoning the despicable acts of that copycat, White Star.
“This just won’t do! My son is just too beautiful!” Shanks cried and before Cale could even react a familiar black cloak was wrapping around him while the hood was lifted to cover his head. The comforting musk of fruity alcohol, sea salt, and the ocean breeze filling his nose allowing the muscles Cale hadn’t even noticed tensing to relax. “That’s better! Now I won’t have to worry too much about perverts ogling you.”
“Harhar. Very funny, dad.” Cale huffed rolling his eyes as Shanks played off his actions. Cale would bet a chest of gold that his dad had simply noticed how uncomfortable he felt in Tenryūbito uniform. “Robin, are you ready?”
Turning to his companion and bodyguard for this mission, Cale silently probed the seventeen year old. He knew that just like himself, Robin didn’t feel comfortable in a Marine uniform, and after missions like this she often had nightmares where she’d been participating in the Buster Call of Ohara.
It was for this exact reason, not to mention the risk of her being identified, that they didn’t often allow the teen to act as a member of Cale’s Marine escort, let alone as the only one. More often than not Cale had at least two guards in, Benn and Hongo, or Limejuice and Banchina.
But Banchina was currently enjoying a short vacation back on Gecko with her son Usopp, together with Hongo, who was there as well to keep an eye on her health. As for Benn and Limejuice, Cale would rather the sole remaining voices of reason stay with Shanks and the crew to keep them from doing anything stupid that might complicate his mission.
As for why Shanks couldn’t act as his guard? Well the first problem was that the redhead was too recognizable as an infamous pirate, and it wouldn’t look good for his image to be seen acting like a dog for the World Government. And as for the second reason, that really could be considered the first, when they were side by side Shanks looked too much like Cale—which was a given since they were father and son—so their obvious relation would ruin any credibility Cale then had.
Of course, this could be fixed by having Shanks dress up like a Tenryūbito (hair and all), but that wasn’t an option. Because despite Shanks belonging to the Figarland family, he’d long been consider disqualified from becoming a Tenryūbito. Hell, going off of the typical rules surrounding the Tenryūbito as Shanks’ biological son, Cale should not have qualified either. But as many things regarding Cale did, those at the top of the World Government had made an exception for him—not that Cale had left them with much of a choice not to.
As for his refusal to bring along Uta and Luffy? He didn’t want to babysit. He loved the two spitfires, and Uta could easily play the part of an arrogant Tenryūbit o, but bringing her meant bringing the other of dealing with Luffy’s tantrum. Either of which Cale didn’t want to deal with, as Cale’s own brand of chaos was dangerous enough but alongside Luffy’s, well it was basically guaranteed that Goa wouldn’t be left standing.
At present, after a fierce argument filled with hard no’s from Cale I’m who would be accompanying him on a recon mission like this, Cale ended up giving in to Benn’s suggestion that Bonk Punch and Monster at least be allowed to follow from a distance as they didn’t any marine uniforms for either—something they’d all be quickly correcting.
Despite all of that it still somehow resulted in them standing at the edge of Foosha Village with a gathering of the dramatically sobbing trio consisting of Shanks, Uta, and Luffy, not to mention the miserably hungover Akagami crew that were egging the drama queens on.
Still, as uncomfortable as they both were, even Robin looked wonderful decked out in the white and blues of the marine uniform, with a stolen pin on her breast revealing her status as Captain. Even at seventeen, she was admirably still playing the part of a male, her growing chest bound masterfully as Banchina had taught despite Cale being certain it wasn’t a pleasant experience.
It was an act that both Hongo and Banchina had advised the teen drop by the end of this year if she wished for her front to develop properly, and the sight of Robin’s hesitation had let Shanks and Cale know they’d soon need to pull her aside for a talk, but this was a topic for another time.
At present, the dashing and handsome Marine Captain Robin—as she was dubbed courtesy of Shanks, a call back to their first months together—returned Cale’s concern with a knowing glint in her eyes and a teasing smile in a mimicry of Shanks’ roguish expressions from beneath her sailor cap. “Of course, Saint-sama. ”
Cale couldn’t suppress the full body shiver of disgust that rang through him at the title, his paling face as memories of Clospeh’s devout feverish gaze, and lesser but still traumatic memories of his various impersonations as a Saint entered his mind sending their farewell party into fits of giggling laughter.
“Why do I even bother with the lot of you?” Cale sighed, turning away to hide the soft smile on his face from the sight of all their happy faces.
“Fufu.” Beside him, Robin chuckled into her palm. Her left hand—callused from hard work—moving to rest on the handle of her saber in a placating manner as she assured the bipolar crew, who went from laughing at Cale to nonsensically weeping the moment he moved to depart. “Worry not, Chief! You all may rest easy knowing I will be there to defend Cale-chan with my life.”
The protectee in question heaved a relieved sigh at the absence of that despicable title, before rolling his eyes, fond but utterly exasperated with the everyone’s dramatics as he muttered under his breath, “You’re all acting as if Robin and I are off to some war to never return, rather than a boring recon mission in a neighboring city for a day or so.”
The youngest redhead’s words went ignored save for the twin amused glances from the only debatably sane people present being Robin and Benn—had the woman been present it was a flip of a coin for which category Banchina would fall under as the mother had long been corrupted by Shanks’ brand of insanity.
“What?! Robin, you can’t die! If you die how are you supposed to join my crew?!”Their resident sunshine, Monkey D. Luffy, exclaimed horrified, “You aren’t allowed to die!”
“Oh dear,” Robin eyes widened before softening as they always did when faced with Luffy’s bluntly earnest affection.
“Oi, Anchor! Stop trying to steal members of my crew!” Shanks screeched lightly knocking the youngster upside the head.
“Ouchie! Stupid Shanks, that hurt!” Luffy frowned releasing his head to take a sloppy fighting stance as he raised his fists at the twenty-seven year old captain.“Sides, it’s not stealing if they come willingly! Just means I’m the better captain!”
At their Captain’s left, Benn and the crew snickered as muttering about ‘what goes around, comes around’, and general speak about karma erupts amongst them. ¹
Uta, on the other hand, was bristling with rage at her best friend’s—at least he was when she excluded all immediate family members—words. “Hey, Luffy! Are you saying that Robin-san shouldn’t defend Onii-chan with her all?!”
The arguing pair of Luffy and Shanks froze at Uta’s raged shout, both turning to face the wannabe diva in confusion—and annoyance on Luffy’s part. “Hah? When did I—“ “he—“ “say that?”
“You implied it, Baka!” Uta shouted, hitting the boy upside the head in mimicry of Shanks’ previous strike, continuing her explanation at Luffy’s confused expression even as the boy whined about everyone always hitting him. “None of us want Robin-san to die but saying Robin-san isn’t allowed to die right after she just declared she’d defend Onii-chan with her life, it’s like you’re saying that Onii-chan isn’t worthy of such protection and that you’d rather Onii-chan die or that you don’t think Robin-san is worthy or strong enough to protect Onii-chan!”
Cale couldn’t helped but sweatdrop—both at how she’d taken up copying his long winded noble speak and—at his little sister’s logic. Sure, he could follow the dramatic jump of the bicolor-haired girl’s reasoning—it’d be a bit embarrassing if he couldn’t understand his family’s dramatics after nearly 12 years with them—but that didn’t mean he agreed with it especially when Uta made it sound like Luffy was cursing him to die.
“ No !” While to the rest of his companions there was only one desperate shout of denial, to Cale a pair of twin shouts rang out in his ears.
He had long grown familiar with the unique way Nika’s voice would curl in the wind, like the quivering of a harp string or the delightful ringing of wind chimes. Different from the Voice of All Things and that of the world's, one of many voices amongst spirits—be they demons, gods, or that of man—long forgotten and audible only to Cale, the trait which the redhead often cursed now bringing him amusement as he got to listen to the synchronized horrified denial of both halves of the sunshine soul he’d slowly come to accept as a younger brother.
The adorably mortal god-incarnate’s eyes bugging out comically in a way that would never not bring a small smile to Cale’s lips at the sheer impossibility of the cartoonish action—how Shanks still had yet to realize the Devil Fruit, which they pillaged from that World Government ship just months ago, belonged to Luffy was an absolute mystery, especially when with each of their visits to Dawn the fruit’s power appeared to manifest in the seven year old more and more despite having yet to consume it.
Cale knew that Nika was getting impatient, and he was certainly right there with him—it was painful seeing the gapping loneliness in Luffy, which was emphasized due to having only half his soul, whenever they departed.
As it stood, it likely wouldn’t be much longer before the fallen God trapped within the fruit influenced his dad into leaving it unattended near Luffy. Still they were cutting it a bit close to their departure time for the Grand Line, but Nika wouldn’t be above begging Cale for help if influencing Shanks turned out too difficult.
“Don’t listen to stupid Uta!”As if he’d been fully aware of Cale’s thought process in understanding Uta’s logic, Luffy’s horrified warm golden sun brown eyes focused on the twelve-year-old redhead after glancing at Robin. “Cale, Robin! I don’t want either of you to die!”
The youngster desperately turning pleading eyes towards the originally departing pair—Cale still didn’t understand why every departure of his even temporarily from the crew would always become so dramatic—begging them to understand.
“It’s fine, Lu-ya. You’re absolutely right. While I won’t say no to being protected, there’s certainly no reason for Robin to be throwing her life away when she could just grab me and run away so we can get revenge another day.” Cale smiled, gently rubbing the growing bump on the brat’s head from two consecutive whacks.
“But running away doesn’t seem very manly or cool.” Luffy frowned, looking extremely indecisive and conflicted about the coolness-factor of Cale’s words but not wanting to outright deny them as that’d make it sound like he’d rather they die.
“Does Onii-chan look like he cares about being manly or cool? Onii-chan is so beautiful he doesn’t need to try to be manly or cool.” Uta retorted giving Luffy a side-eye that Cale was honestly jealous of until he thought about how his kids—namely On—learning it from their new aunt. Shuddering at the thought of such a look appearing across On’s face as his daughter took after Uta, Cale decided to just ignore his little sister’s words that sounded oddly insulting.
“On the contrary, running away can be very cool.” Cale addressed Luffy, who was scowling at Uta, snickering to himself as he thought about all the running around he’d done in the War against the White Star. “There will certainly be moments in your life where running away is not only the smartest choice but the bravest thing you can do, especially when there’s people you love trusting you. Just remember, as long as you’re alive there are infinite chances to get back at those who wrong you.”
“Don’t overthink it. I’ll tell you some stories later that might help you understand better.” He chuckled amending his speech as his words left Luffy looking even more confused with his head appearing ready to blow a gasket. The boy lightening considerably at the promise of stories as he always did, a light that only shined brighter as Cale continued with a sly smile at both Shanks and Robin. “Besides, it’s only natural for any great Captain to prioritize the lives of his own crew members!”
“Cale!?” The redheaded Captain squawked in disbelief, while Robin choked a bit.
“Hah! You hear that, Shanks! Uta! Cale said I’m a Great Captain!” Luffy was practically glowing as his lips stretched into that unnaturally wide trademark D. grin that Cale was beginning to grow used to, eager to throw Cale praising him in their faces.
And sure enough, the faces of Shanks and Uta were turning an amusing red that only grew more pronounced following Cale’s next actions.
“Hey, Lu?” Ignoring the two of them, Cale spoke up to recapture the boy’s attention, even as he used his hand still resting in the other’s raven locks to redirect him. A soft smile spreading across his face when the boy immediately quieted after an answering hum giving Cale his undivided attention. Pleased with the reaction, Cale leaned down to comfortably connect his forehead with Luffy’s. Their eyes meeting easily, Cale spoke with a gentle but solemn tone. “I’ll take good care of Robin, until you’re strong enough to protect her. So until then you need to work hard to get stronger, and make use of your time with Shanks and us to learn how to be a captain. Okay?”
“Okay! I’ll work hard and get stronger so I can be a great Captain for Robin!” The little seven-year-old’s face took on an equally solemn expression, though nobody missed the sparkle that appeared in his eyes following Cale’s openly proud grin, before the little boy turned to Robin with renewed purpose. “Robin! I’m not strong enough to be your Captain just yet! But mark my words, I’ll get stronger and when I do you best believe I’ll look for you to join my crew! So until then as your future captain, I order you to stay alive! No matter what you need to do to accomplish this order, you need to stay alive so we can sail together as Nakama when I’m bigger!”
“ Aye, Captain. ” If Robin was a little misty-eyed, and her voice cracked rather noticeably while responding to the little boy’s order, everybody politely ignored it. And even Shanks’ and Uta, despite their utterly offended faces, took a moment to look sadly at the seventeen-year-old girl—even if she was still crossdressing as a male— they’d watched grow seem to realize she had Nakama out in the world waiting for her beyond them.
The moment didn’t last long, not that it needed to be to have a lasting impact, before Luffy’s brows were dipping in a pout while his checks puffed up—a deadly combination he’d begun unconsciously mimicking from Cale and Uta. “Egh—“
The uncharacteristically serious—but utterly adorable—expression on the seven-year-old’s face easily catching the crew’s attention.
“What’cha thinking bout, Anchor?” Yasopp crooned, misty eyed with Monster at his side from the previous touching moment, though making his presence known would be an absolute mistake that would have him mopping the entire ship and dealing with the dirtier ship chores for a month.
“Cale refused to join my crew so I can’t order him to stay alive like with Robin. And I can’t ask as a crew-mate because I’m not going to join Shanks' crew anymore!” The brat’s frown growing even more pronounced when he saw the entire crew—including Shanks and Beckman—deflate in relief at his admittance of the rejection. “And as much as I trust Shanks and you guys, just a little while ago you all thought it’d be okay to just leave Uta behind—“
A distinctly sour look emerged on the faces of the crew at the reminder of the horrific mess in Elegia just a few months ago. An especially bitter one spreading across Shanks’ face when he thought back to his hypocrisy back then. He doubted the guilt he felt would ever ease, even if both Cale and Robin had reasoned the whole affair was because of a misunderstanding between the crew and their resident diva.
Still the memory of his little girl, the second child given to him by the sea, sobbing in his own quivering arms as Hongo looked after a frightening limp Cale, whose lips and chest were stained with red and black blood. The way Uta repeatedly apologized for her—what she viewed as—conceited naivety, promising that she’d contribute to the crew, all while begging them to not leave her, would forever haunt him.
A persistent tugging on his hand was only the only thing that pulled him from his thoughts and as Shanks came back he smiled gratefully at the concerned Uta clinging to his leg, while also noticing the way Cale had moved just a bit closer to his side. He truly was blessed to have such wonderful kids.
Luffy didn’t pause to allow anyone time to recover from the semi-low blow, continuing his rambling logic. “I’d ask Cale to promise but he doesn’t like promises—“
Unconsciously or not, his words lightened the mood as they had the crew snorting in remembrance of their own struggles with Cale’s pig-headedness when it came to promises. Though a handful of them nearly choked on their laughter at Luffy’s following remark.
“And I wanted to ask Cale as a brother, but Yasopp said Cale would only be my brother if I married Uta—“
“Bleh!” Uta stuck her tongue out as she mockingly made gagging noises, her nose scrunched in disgust while she sneered at Luffy, “Like I’d ever marry you! That’s so gross! The only men I’d ever marry would be Cale, Benn, and maybe Shanks!”
Cale wisely kept his mouth shut following the sharp look Uta sent him. Regrettably keeping his tease worthy sibling blackmail material to himself, though he still allowed his lips to twitch up when he thought about the girl’s purposeful failure to include Robin in her list.
Instead of getting offended by her action like he normally would, Luffy merely nodded along like he agreed wholeheartedly. “I don’t want to marry you either. But because I don’t want to marry Uta, than I’d have to marry Cale but Makino—“
The rest of Luffy’s rambling explanation— that both explained everything yet nothing at the same time—went unheard after the words “marry Cale” left the mouth of Dawn Island’s resident sunshine. It was like those two words in succession had utterly broken the brains of everyone present.
Shanks especially was utterly flabbergasted, frozen on the spot by two warring instincts; one which demanded any bastard that tried to sully the innocence of his precious Cale be killed immediately; and the second, which wouldn’t mind having Luffy as his son, be it via adoption or marriage, desperately arguing that the sunshine wouldn’t be the worst person for Cale to marry.
“ Absolutely not !” In the end, it was Uta who woke from Luffy’s surprise attack first, the girl’s indignant screech feeling so much like a burst of Conqueror’s Haki that it startled them all back into awareness. “An idiot like you can’t marry my big brother! You don’t even know the first thing about appreciating Onii-chan‘s utter perfection! If anyone was going to marry Cale it’d be me or Shanks!”
Despite the adorable certainty in her declaration, Shanks looked decidedly green at the prospect of marrying his precious Cale. He wouldn’t exactly be against Uta marrying Cale as the two weren’t actually siblings let alone closely related—he’s a bloody pirate after all and love was love as discomforting as it could be to others—though Cale had told him that Uta definitely had some Thames blood in her which could be problematic, but despite Uta’s own words he knew Cale and her only saw each other as siblings.
As for the rest of them, Uta’s slightly concerning brother-complex regarding Cale wasn’t exactly news to the crew. So it was Beckman that truly saved the rest of the crew from their internal heartache as the sharp-shooter turned toward Luffy and interrupted the small bean’s explanation, “Anchor, who did you say gave you the idea to marry Cale?”
“Oh! Yasopp did but—“ Shanks didn’t even bother to hear the rest as he gave chase to his fleeing sniper yelling profanities about the bastard trying to sell his son and what not. As for the rest of them, they were quick to discourage Luffy from such a dangerous train of thought.
“Anchor, you don’t want to get married!”
“No need to get married, Anchor! Shanks can just adopt you!”
The raven-haired boy only looking at all of them oddly, “but I just told you I’m not going to marry anyone!”
“Huh?”
“Pft—“ Cale couldn’t hold in his laughter any longer, his shoulders shaking as it all escaped him. The explosion of his laughter, and unadulterated delight bringing everyone’s eyes back to him—and had his cheeks not already been flushed from his laughter they would’ve been due to the sudden eyes on him at his outburst. “Pfff—sorry, sorry! Luffy, why don’t you tell everyone why you don’t want to get married?”
Despite being the one that Luffy stated he’d supposedly marry, Robin noted that the redhead didn’t seem all that affected by the declaration beyond being highly amused by everyone’s reaction to it. Which told her that this wasn’t the first time the sunshine had accidentally semi-proposed to Cale.
And Robin would be correct in a way. Cale didn’t have much reaction to Luffy’s proclamation simply because he had the debatable fortune to be the only one present when Luffy went to Makino with his plan to marry Cale so they could be brothers.
Cale hadn’t hesitated to swear the lovely barmaid to secrecy about the way his baffled buffering face had grown a wonderfully flushed scarlet. And mind you, he was flattered by it all, especially with how innocent the boy’s reasoning was but Cale only saw Luffy as a little brother.
Rather the reason he was flustered was because of the blasted way Nika—the very much adult godling for as childish as he could be—was purposefully using his powers to create an unnatural wind in the tavern to croon in Cale’s ear, expressing his approval and agreement of having Cale as their spouse.
See, Cale had never had any interest in things like romance nor its more physically intimate side, he didn’t even have any interest toward Nika. No, the problem lay with how difficult it was to tell if Nika was merely teasing or not. Paired with a mortifying teasing remark from the godling about “Cale having their kids” did not leave the redhead a happy-camper.
So it was less of an embarrassed flush, and more of a “he’s going to murder the gods if they messed with his biology” one. Cale wasn’t going to correct Makino on her assumption though, he didn’t want the woman to know that he’d actually been seriously planing deicide while they were stuck giving Luffy an impromptu birds and bees talk to dissuade him from the idea.
“Makino told me that after you marry someone, that these loud annoying fragile things called babies tend to show up! And apparently those things demand lots of care and attention which would mean Cale won’t have time for me, or Shanks, or Uta, or even being a pirate, which isn’t acceptable.”
Cale had to admit that despite barely understanding a single thing that Makino explained, Luffy had still understood the underlying message to be that babies = no piracy and dangerous adventures which the seven-year-old was firmly against.
The redhead specifically didn’t correct Makino’s rather naive explanation of sex and marriage either. Even throughout their lecture he could already see plenty of signs that Luffy much like himself didn’t feel much inclination towards romantic or sexual relations.
Hell, just from what Cale had observed over the last year, it was easy to see that Luffy couldn’t—and wouldn’t—truly differentiate between genders or sexes. And when it came to reacting to things like it, Luffy would often just mimic the reactions of others around him; the most prominent example was probably when some of the crew were ogling women in town, Luffy showed no interest in them until it looked like the men were enjoying themselves and even then the only enjoyment he got was from feeling included.
Anyways, he was getting off topic, they all had. To the point that Cale had nearly forgotten that the whole point of this was to leave. From the look in Robin’s eyes she’d realized this as well.
So with a practiced look to Uta, which promised extra cuddles and permission to dress him up, the pair of Robin and Cale silently slipped away as the little girl loudly declared more shocking distracting news.
“Good, we can’t have your idiocy sullying the intelligence levels of Onii-chan’s bloodline! Besides, Onii-chan already has three wonderful adopted kids, not to mention the others that technically haven’t been adopted!”
The screeches of the crew was music to Cale’s ears as they swiftly escaped. And as he ran down the dirt road with Robin, listening the the laughter of his Ancient Powers in his mind, as well as Hana, and Nika in his ears, Cale couldn’t bring himself to regret this life of his. Even knowing the absolutely hysterical interrogation he would be faced with upon returning to his home amongst the crew.
••• •••
After escaping the Akagami crew’s efforts to delay their departure, the pair reluctantly headed straight for the capital city of Goa.
Despite using Dawn Island as their base this last year, Cale hadn’t bothered to learn much about the island’s ruling force.
Though had any of the Akagami Pirates—especially Robin—knew that Cale just referred to his knowledge of the island as “not much” they would’ve laughed at the sheer ridiculousness. Despite claiming he didn’t bother, Cale had completely memorized the layout of Dawn, sightings of wanted Criminals, and not only the names of every single noble on the island but also estimates of their wealth (he’d absolutely be taking the opportunity to loot some of the bastards’ dry, especially the more arrogant ones who couldn’t cover the tracks to their misdeeds).
Of course—in Cale’s mind—this information not only wasn’t much but most of it he wouldn’t even categorize as important . The only thing of note about Dawn in his opinion—besides the monstrous wildlife lurking in the forest that had no right to exist in the Weakest Sea—was it being the birthplace of Garp the Fist, a Marine Hero and Vice-Admiral.
It was that very fact that had them choosing Dawn as their base, after all, no sane pirate would be willing to risk Garp’s wrath which made it the prefect hiding spot. And as Cale also swiftly learned it was the perfect place to hide heretical existences from the world. Because as time was proving again and again while the D. Family did nothing in halves, the Monkey Family somehow had their own brand of insanity.
As for why he mentioned it, well in his twelve years on this world hearing about the mythical Will of D. and meeting bearers of the name, not once has Cale heard of it claiming three consecutive generations of a bloodline. Yet here he was on the island that served as the birthplace for the utter insanity that was the Monkey Family which consisted of Monkey D. Garp, Monkey D. Dragon, and Monkey D. Luffy.
What a pleasant surprise that discovery had been for the Akagami Pirates, especially considering their growing infamy, paired with the fact they’d inspired Luffy to become a pirate. Still they’d all lit a candle for Luffy—because a bottle of rum didn’t do such a travesty justice—for having such a decidedly crazy old marine as a grandfather—as for the fact that the sunshine incarnate of Freedom was the son of the most wanted criminal Dragon, well Cale kept that to himself.
Anyways, if it wasn’t for the duties given to him by those irritating Five Elders—the sight of their smug faces as he allowed them to order him around made Cale want to burn the World Government to the ground without delay and then beat their faces in with the pebble containing the Blood-drenched Rock, but he needed to be patient—Cale wouldn’t have even bothered leaving the borders of Foosha village to visit the Goa kingdom capital.
But Cale knew how to play the long con, and while he didn’t have much care for the World Government—an absolute understatement in the face of the God-complex instilled in every Celestial Dragon he’d had the misfortune to come across that actually had him thinking the White Radish was an okay guy—it was the only organization that presently had the manpower and reach to assist in his search for the lurking scattered remnants of the Hunters and Red-Blood Family.
(Give or take five more years and Cale’s options wouldn’t be so limited, be it the World Economy News Paper, the Revolutionary Army, the influence held by his father as one of the four reigning Yonko of the New World, or the sway Cale held over a certain faction of Marines, the World Government would be clamoring to keep Cale on their side.)
It left his alliance with the World Government as a situation oddly reminiscent to the battle against the Electric Eel on Earth Two, where there were plenty of trash bastards present but taking care of them would have to wait until after the main threat was dealt with.
Didn’t make cooperating with the bastards any easier though, especially when his every interaction with them left him feeling dirty. The fact that they dared send him on mindless errands like this as a type of powerplay—where he was told to “inspect the kingdom for any suspicious activity, determine their candidacy as the next location of the triennial Native Hunting Competition and to correct the filth that don’t remember their place” whatever that meant—only increased his desire to make them witness their world crumble around them.
Cale swore the bastards were bipolar, one moment they were attempting to curry favor with him and the next they threatened to turn him into one of their despicable science experiments. Ironically, Imu, for as shitty a ruler the devil was, remained the only reason the World Government had yet to meet its end at Cale’s hand these last four years.
Anyways, Cale was pretty sure that the Elders really meant for this “visit” to serve as a warning once word of it got back to the Vice-admiral. It was a way to remind the man to behave and not get any “stupid” ideas like the man’s son did in building the Freedom Fighters to oppose the World Government and all.
This coupled with the fact that Monkey D. Dragon, who was rumored to be have been seen around the area the last few years hadn’t been sighted in months was all Cale needed to know to understand the bastard Five Elders were feeling paranoid and were hoping a visit of to the criminal’s birthplace would give them insight on the man’s plans.
It was actually one of the more thought out plans of the bastards that Cale approved of, though for entirely different reasons.
Besides, Cale had long guessed the primary or at least secondary reason behind the man’s visits given the presence of a certain sunshine Anchor of the Akagami Pirates living on the island, but he certainly wasn’t planning to tell the Elders that.
All in all, Cale had spent the walk preparing himself for a miserable few days of politics and petty nobles trying to curry favor, the only relief was knowing that the majority of the royal family would be gone due to prior engagements—ie, Cale had invited the idiots to stay at Mary Geoise so they wouldn't bug him—when Robin and him made it to the city’s gate.
Unfortunately, despite his express orders for his visit to be kept hush-hush the Goa princess was not as alone as he’d hoped. Though the odd resemblance the princess held toward the other two blonds at the gate had Cale’s soap opera radar tingling.
Something about it telling him that while this trip would prove unfruitful for the Five Elders, it would benefit Cale plenty.
••• •••
For a First Princess, let alone one of a kingdom like Goa where bloodline and class was everything , Sarie Nantokanette was used to being pushed aside.
It was literally there, clear as day in her name how little care her father, the king and her mother, the queen held for her.
Nantokanette, the name she was given at birth to represent her parents hopes for her future—and maybe that was a bit romanticized on her part but it had been her last hope to find some care from her parents behind her given name—literally meant "Something-nette”.
She’d even tried to excuse the lack of effort by telling herself it was a name uniquely for her yet…
Marionette. Annette. Tonette. Arnette. Bernette. Robinette. Coronette. Dennette. Garnette. Vinette. Bennett…
Not only her parents, but even her younger brother called her all manner of names ending in “nette” but the very one they gave her.
And as the years went by without any effort on their part to remember her name let alone her existence, Nantokanette had resigned herself to her fate of being a forgotten princess.
The only light in her fifteen years of life being the last five years of her lessons with her etiquette instructor Lady Didit, the mother of her apparent fiancé-to-be.
And despite never having met the woman’s son, Nantokanette had been at ease with her fate as a political pawn. At least when it meant having an in-law she knew and somewhat trusted.
Like the rest of her life though nothing ever went her way as the last few months proved. Her bubble of isolation and blissful ignorance popping leaving nothing to hold her steady before her entire world was flipped upside down.
It started with her parents suddenly returning from the 1512 Reverie, doing a complete one-eighty as they drowned her in affectionate attention even going as far as dismissing her brother at times.
At first, she’d felt warm— almost even pitying her brother who was experiencing a day or two in her life, that is if he wasn’t being such an ass about it—but all to quickly the sudden change became frighteningly worrying. Namely when her brother returned from a temper tantrum and suddenly joined her parents in simpering over her.
Shortly after which they all brought her aside to inform her of a prodigious young Tenryūbito that had made their debut at the Reverie that year.
Now, despite her adoration for fairytales, Nantokanette didn’t quite have the ego to hold on to fantasies of marrying up the social ladder, let alone to a Tenryūbito that likely had no lack of options for significant others.
While it was true that Nantokanette was pretty with her thin form, long bright wavy blonde hair, blue eyes, a small nose, and a rather defined chest for her age. She wasn’t without “flaws” as her brother and peers constantly pointed out, be it her rather pointy nose, or the fact that she was exceptionally tall for not only her age but sex as well.
She’d told her parents such, even bringing up some princess she knew solely by the name of Vivi that she’d heard her stupid brother sprouting poetry for. It had been convincing enough that her parents agreed to not hastily cancel her engagement to Sterry, the noble son of Sir Outlook III and Lady Didit for some outlandish hope—even if the derisive looks of her parents as she pointed out those flaws and they sized her up as if a piece of meat at auction hurt.
But for all the painful revelations it gave her regarding her family, that had been the end of the matter in her mind. She thought she’d made it through to her parents even if the way they suddenly started putting more effort into dressing her up, or how she was encouraged to take lessons to “overcome” her flaws said otherwise.
Looking back it should’ve been obvious they hadn’t given up, yet it still caught her off guard when not even two days ago, her parents and brother were suddenly departing once more for Mary Geoise without her. Leaving her only with the news that not only was her engagement to be canceled, but that she was to do her utmost to catch and retain the Tenryūbito’s interest during his visit.
Maybe in the past she would’ve felt warm at the implication her parents thought she was good enough to marry a Tenryūbito, but there was no pride to held in being told to act like a common whore for such blatant social climbing.
(What a fun way to realize that those lessons her parents encouraged her to take were basically just seduction arts disguised as confidence training.)
She hadn’t yet had the heart to tell her personal Advisors nor Lady Didit of the canceled engagement, though she’d certainly been tempted too with the heavy pressure Sir Outlook III put on her to allow his family to accompany her in greeting the Tenryūbito.
And while she certainly hadn’t been happy with the nobles tagging along—though Lady Didit was welcome—as an outfitted marine appeared on the road over the horizon accompanying a short figure obscured by a black cloak, she was suddenly thankful for their presence as her nerves caught up to her with her internal conflict over following her parents’ orders.
Not that the nerves survived long before they were brutally crushed.
Because how…
How in the world did her parents think someone as beautiful as Saint Figarland would ever be interested, let alone fall in love with someone like herself—deep inside she knew her parents didn’t care about whether or not the boy would actually love her, all that mattered was that she held his interest long enough for them to join the ranks of the Celestial Dragons.
So appalled by her parents delusions—which was not helped by her growing fluster due to the two beautiful males in front of her—she missed her queue to greet the Tenryūbito entirely.
A dangerous error given the ease at which said Tenryūbito could bypass matters of politics and blood to punish her. She’d heard stories from the traveling jesters her parents occasionally hired how some Tenryūbito would even shoot an infant without remorse dare it cry in their presence.
Biting her lips and mentally cursing herself to stay focused, Nantokanette dipped her head while raising the sides of her dress in a practiced curtsy, though it was notably lower than usual making her calves ache. “Greetings, Saint Figarland—“
But as she forced the words from her constricting throat, Sir Outlook III and Lady Didit rushed past her, dragging along their son, to kneel at the Tenryūbito’s feet while nearly knocking her off her own.
“Saintess-sama! It’s our greatest honor to welcome you to—“ And if Nantokanette hadn’t been embarrassed by her own abysmal greeting she certainly was now.
Within moments, her white face was red in a mixture of fury at the nobles’ disrespect and embarrassment at them misgendering the Tenryūbito— while the mistake could be excused as the Saint truly could be seen as either gender, that did not mean it should be especially when it could’ve been avoided by actually listening to her.
Thankfully, the Tenryūbito did not appear to take offense, though to Nantokanette’s pleasure, he did interrupt them.
“What a delightful surprise!” The Tenryūbito’s youthful voice practically sang, his words flowing in a way that sounded entirely genuine yet also utterly sarcastic. And despite the way it should have left every engrained noble etiquette lesson in her screaming at her to be on guard, oddly enough it lured her in like a nostalgic melody.
Even bringing Nantokanette to allow herself to daydream about singing (read; following) along with him momentarily—as if they were in actuality old childhood friends complaining about the stupidity of adults, swapping sly insults wrapped in false narratives, all while bitching about being required to take lessons in ballroom etiquette, and joining together to conversationally wreck others.
She was startled from the fantasy when the Tenryūbito was suddenly pulling her fiancé—or was it ex , she still wasn’t sure—from the dirt road clasping the bastard’s dirty hands. “I was unaware the rulers of Goa had another son, let alone such a handsome one. You simply must tell me your name!”
An ugly feeling rose in her chest, one that had continued to grow since five years ago, where she listened to her parents praise her idiot younger brother for getting in a fight—one he clearly and pathetically lost despite his needlessly loud claims of victory—with another noble’s son. It was a feeing she felt when some of her old fiancé candidates would spend their tea time chatting on and on about their future “conquests”with woman that they were to never wed while in front of her , their perspective wife. It was tumorous how many emotions being ignored brought out of her, despite being so used to it by now.
Nantokanette didn’t know why she thought today would be any different from normal. Maybe she was just as delusional as her parents to think a Tenryūbito of all people would take notice of her.
“—I do believe only your lovely sister Princess Nantokanette was meant to greet me.“
“Ah—she’s not my sis—“
The sound of her name had her head whipping up at the tail-end of the two’s conservation, and she swiftly seized the opportunity to make herself known. (If she rudely interrupted her ex-fiance, thus breaking the very etiquette she excelled at to do so, well it was only fair.)
“You’d be correct, Saint Figarland-sama.” To her delight, the moment she spoke up the young Tenryūbito was at her side pulling her from her curtsy—gratifyingly before her quivering knees gave out—with gentle hands and the ghost of a featherlight kiss across her knuckles that nearly had her swooning.
“It’s a pleasure to finally meet the rumored beauty that is Goa’s First Princess. For a moment, I was filled with disappointment that I would not get to meet you.”
Her cheeks warmed unwillingly at what she wanted to claim flattery, yet the undeniably genuineness shining in his eyes had her unable too.
Still she doubted there were any rumors about her beauty amongst the World Nobles—let alone their children—as she’d never been allowed to accompany her parents to a Reverie and they rarely remembered her existence. She’d bet her meager allowance that the rumors were made in jest because of her brother mocking her flawed looks to others behind their parents’ backs.
She’d yet to meet a male peer that didn’t find her greater height to be anything but a personal attack to their ego—even now, Saint Figarland was being forced to look up at her. Yet despite the smallest flicker of annoyance, the Celestial Noble appeared amused if anything by the little more than a head’s difference between them.
“The pleasure is mine, my apologies for the miscommunication however. I hope you’ll find it in your heart to forgive the sordid manners of my fiancé’s family, Saint Figarland-sama.” She purposely drawled out the words stating their relation, sending her flustered fiancé a brief look over the momentarily stunned Saint’s head. Her blue eyes glowering into his similarly colored pair that basically stated that the boy needed to back off—though it was misinterpreted to be, if she couldn’t have the Saint, he couldn’t either.
“Your fiancé, you said?” The Tenryūbito muttered before chuckling lightly, easily migrating to her side. And it was solely muscle memory that had her slipping her hand through his offered arm without hesitation as they repositioned, especially when the boy comfortably motioned for her to lean down to whisper conspiratorially in her ear, “Oh dear, and here I thought the young Sabo-kun was your more palatable brother compared to the First Prince. He certainly looks far more like your parents and you.”
Utterly flustered by the ghost of a breath caressing her ear, Natokanette didn’t register much of the Saint’s words as she was now desperately trying to mentally prepare herself to act as Figarland’s escort and guide through the city. When she did however…
She was unable to contain herself at the subtle rare dig at her younger brother, snorting in a very undignified manner freezing in her motion for the guards to retrieve the carriage car. Though her cheeks quickly warmed in shame as she accidentally caught the way Lady Didit’s urgent look of urging her to bend her knees or slouch her posture so she didn’t seem so tall, went to despairing at her unladylike manner.
She had no time to dwell in the shame though as her mind swiftly caught up with the rest of the information.
It was only the tensing of Figarland’s arm and the subtle but disrupting increase in their pace that prevented her from turning back to the uninvited nobles with wide eyes.
Instead, it was the Tenryūbito that faced the weight of her questioning sapphire eyes with his own amused garnet eyes as he brought a delicate finger to cross against his lips out of view from behind. “Whilst I am eager to explore your lovely Capital, I must confess I’m feeling rather weary from the journey here. You wouldn’t mind preparing some quarters within the castle for my escort and I, would you Princess?”
The look was all Nantokanette needed to know that while today certainly wasn’t a romantic fairytale centering around herself, it would certainly still be considered a fairytale just one more fantastical than she ever dared to dream.
“Be at ease Saint-sama, I long had the finest of the castle quarters prepared for your stay.”
