A month passed in the blink of an eye. During that month, nothing unexpected happened to Shirakawa and his crew, and they made their way to two of Alabasta's more significant cities.
One was called Yuba, the other Erumalu. The two could hardly have been more different.
Yuba, like Rainbase, was a lush oasis. Erumalu, by contrast, was a city gone dry—a place where water was the most precious resource of all.
As for Marquis Kuroru, he had been stuffed into a burlap sack and bound from the outside, left wriggling like a maggot with only his head sticking out. He turned to look at Jora behind him, his eyes brimming with resentment.
In the early days of his captivity, every time he woke up, he would shout and hurl threats. So every time he made a sound, Jora knocked him unconscious. One peep, one punch.
As a result, Kuroru had now gone a very long time without speaking, because his heart was simply filled with fear of Jora.
"What are you looking at? Keep staring and see if I don't hit you again. Don't think I won't dare just because we're in your capital."
Jora was getting goosebumps all over from Kuroru's staring and spat the words out viciously. How had they ended up saddled with a nuisance like this?
The moment he heard Jora's threat, Kuroru snapped his eyes shut immediately. Then he cracked one open just a sliver to sneak a glance at Jora, got spooked again by Jora raising a fist, and clamped his eyes tight once more.
The other crew members watching this scene couldn't help but laugh. It seemed Kuroru had been disciplined into quite the obedient captive.
"Would you look at that, Jora. Never knew you had a talent for this sort of thing. Next time we take a prisoner, maybe I should hand them over to you for training?"
"Captain, please, give me a break." At Shirakawa's words, Jora's face instantly crumpled into a mask of misery.
He really was not cut out for this line of work. Why wouldn't any of them believe him? Kuroru was just a fluke.
"Hahahaha!" At Jora's tone, the crew erupted into cheerful laughter. Even Kuroru managed a few chuckles.
"What are you laughing at? What are you laughing at, huh? If it weren't for you, would I be in this mess?"
Jora marched over to Kuroru. Every word came with a thump.
"Alright, alright. I imagine this country's king should be sending someone to receive us soon."
After horsing around for a while, the crew pulled themselves back together.
The entire journey here, they had been followed. The tails changed with every city, but they were unmistakably all from the same group—that much went without saying. And in this country, no one but the king could pull off something on that scale.
Sure enough, not long after they entered the city, a squad of soldiers came marching toward them. At their head was a young man who looked about twenty, apparently the squad's captain.
"Greetings. I am Chaka. The king has sent me to escort you to the palace."
The man approached Shirakawa and addressed him with deference. Either his nature was simply that courteous, or the king had said something that made him adopt such a respectful tone.
"Very well. Lead the way, then."
"Yes, honored guests." After saying this, however, his gaze shifted to Marquis Kuroru, strapped to Riddle's back.
"Might I ask if you would be willing to hand the Marquis over to us?"
At Chaka's words, a light flickered in Kuroru's eyes—a light called hope.
Better to fall into the hands of the Royal Guard than into the hands of pirates. That was the thought running through Kuroru's mind right now.
"That won't be possible." Four words—just four—and the flame of hope that had just kindled in Kuroru's heart was snuffed out in an instant.
"This is a wedding gift I intend to present to your king in person. It must be delivered by my own hand."
Shirakawa answered Chaka directly.
"Ah, I see. Forgive me, that was presumptuous of me."
"It's nothing. Please continue leading the way."
"Yes."
Falling in behind Chaka, Jora sidled up beside Shirakawa and Eurystine and murmured under his breath, "This guy is awfully polite."
They had expected, at the very least, outright hostility, if not drawn swords. The situation unfolding before them now was not at all what they had anticipated.
"Maybe this country's king isn't as bad as we imagined. Sure, we caused trouble in his kingdom, but didn't we also help him solve a problem? Maybe he wants to thank us?"
"Bullshit. Let me tell you, Cobra is as cunning and treacherous as they come."
Kuroru suddenly spoke up. He had now firmly pinned the blame for his failed operation squarely on Cobra's head.
If Cobra hadn't issued that decree blocking him, maybe he wouldn't have moved so soon. It was all Cobra's goading that made him fall for it.
"Shut your mouth. The captain's talking. No one asked you."
Jora promptly gave Kuroru another thump.
Chaka, overhearing Kuroru's words, shot him a razor-sharp glare. Speaking ill of the king right in front of the Royal Guard—the man was practically begging for death.
In truth, Shirakawa and his crew were reading far too much into this. The reason Chaka treated them so well was simply that it was in his nature.
——
"Your Majesty, the Silver Sea Pirates are about to arrive."
Inside the palace, that same minister spoke again to Cobra.
"I know."
"And when will the Marine forces get here?"
"Two more days."
"So as long as we keep the Silver Sea Pirates pacified for these two days, this crisis will blow over?"
The Minister of Internal Affairs asked, his voice trembling with excitement.
"Barring any unforeseen circumstances, that should be the case."
"And does Your Majesty know who the Marines are sending this time?"
"I'm not certain either. But word is it's someone quite significant."
"Then we can rest easy."
Throughout the palace hall, every official let out a collective sigh of relief. Although the Silver Sea Pirates hadn't stirred up any trouble over the past month, their mere presence in the country had weighed on everyone like a crushing pressure.
——
"This is the royal palace?"
Standing outside the palace walls, Adara let out a breath of wonder—tinged, however, with a trace of disappointment. It wasn't quite what she had pictured. Neither glittering with gold nor gleaming with silver.
"That's because this is a desert kingdom. Someday, when you have the chance to visit one of the other great powers, you'll likely find the palace of your dreams."
Shirakawa said to Adara.
For a desert kingdom, a palace like this was already impressive enough—and it had stood for centuries, at that.
"It may not look like much from the outside, but the interior decoration is a completely different experience from what the exterior suggests."
Chaka added, explaining to the group. While the palace's outer shell had been preserved for hundreds of years, the furnishings within had been renovated by generation after generation of kings until they had become truly sumptuous.
"Really? Then you absolutely have to give me a proper tour later."
Adara said to Chaka.
"Of course."
I had a dream last night. Dreamt my novel got banned—because the cover didn't match the content. Scared me so badly I rushed to get a new cover made first thing this morning.
/-\
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