Chapter 43

“Can you stop waving that damn fan of yours?”

When the Spanish Royal Navy’s warship finally docked at the pier, amidst the chaos of everyone disembarking, Caesar seized the opportunity to grab the dazed Miguel like a kitten and pull him aside. The captain asked with a dark expression.

Hearing this, Miguel waved his little fan even more vigorously. He glanced around furtively, then suddenly ducked his head as if he had seen something. Like a spy, he whispered in a low voice, “Damn it, your dear brother is looking this way—don’t talk to me, you’re drawing attention. Get lost.”

“…You’re insane.” Caesar’s patience was always in the negative when it came to Leoza. The man’s face darkened as he snapped, “Throw that fan away. Now. Immediately.”

“Yeah, I’m insane. Got any medicine for that?” Miguel ignored him, holding the fan in one hand and lifting his skirt with the other. He smiled sweetly at everyone around him while muttering under his breath through the fan. He then viciously grabbed Caesar’s arm and marched forward, “In front of your brother, I’m the perfect big brother. Do you know what a big brother is? Did Leoza ever tug at your sleeve with snot running down his face and say, ‘Caesar, don’t leave’? I can tell from your expression he didn’t—you can’t be jealous of something you never had, no matter how mad you get.”

“……”

Caesar once thought Miguel had a knack for driving people to the brink of a stroke—while he was still seething over Leoza’s appearance, this guy was over there cheering for their cross-generational friendship (…).

So Caesar decided to stop caring.

Some people just have to break their necks before they learn what pain feels like.

When they arrived at the royal dock, there was still a distance to the royal estate. A large group of people piled into various carriages, and the navy commander, for reasons unknown, very accurately stuffed Leoza, Caesar, and Miguel into the same carriage. Thus, in a spacious carriage, three people with their own ulterior motives sat in silence, with no one to lighten the mood.

…The east wind doesn’t blow, the willow catkins of March don’t fly, the clip-clop of your horse’s hooves is a beautiful mistake. I don’t know you, I’m just passing by.

For the first time, Miguel felt that the sound of “clip-clop” could be so awkward. Realizing that the two enemies in the carriage would rather kill each other than speak first, the black-haired young man reluctantly opened his mouth, struggling to say something to ease the tension. But as soon as he cleared his throat, Big Dog beside him shot him a glare, so Miguel shut up.

“Put the fan down,” Leoza, who had been silent all this while, suddenly spoke up. Sitting across from them, he cupped his pretty face in his hands and blinked, “I recognized you at first glance, Miguel.”

“……”

…Huh? He’s been recognized.

Embarrassed, Miguel lowered the fan, unsure how to explain his shocking appearance in a dress. Before he could think of a way to justify himself, the man beside him casually took the fan, opened the carriage window, and without a word, threw the feather fan, which was nearly bald from all the waving, out the window—the entire action was so smooth that Miguel didn’t even have time to stop him.

Miguel: “What the hell are you doing?”

Caesar: “I’ve been waiting for this moment. Don’t let me see that fan in your hands again.”

Miguel: “……”

Leoza: “Ah, it really is you, little Miguel! You look good in a dress too!”

Little Miguel? Who’s that… no respect for elders.

As if oblivious to the tense atmosphere in the carriage, Leoza smiled, his eyes curving into crescents. Suddenly remembering something, he pulled out a handkerchief from his pocket, reached out, and attempted to wipe away the smeared lipstick on Miguel’s mouth.

Just as he was about to touch him, smack, his hand was slapped away hard.

“……”

The carriage fell into a brief, suffocating silence.

Leoza was stunned, Miguel stared at the handkerchief on the floor with wide eyes, and Caesar, the culprit, seemed completely unfazed.

“Don’t touch him, trash,” the captain said lazily, pulling out his own handkerchief to wipe the hand that had just touched Leoza. He then grabbed the navigator’s chin and turned his face toward him, using enough force to almost twist his lips off, adjusting his garish mouth into a more acceptable range.

As he silently performed these actions, the atmosphere in the carriage, which had just barely lightened, became so heavy it felt like the air was freezing into ice.

No one has ever dared to treat me like this… Leoza rubbed his reddened wrist, his expression pausing for a moment—his cheerful boyish face momentarily turned cold and frightening. Then, almost instantly, he masked his emotions—Caesar, who had seen it all, sneered, casually tossed the handkerchief aside, propped his legs up on the opposite seat, and closed his eyes to rest.

No fun now. Pouting, Leoza reluctantly picked up his handkerchief from the floor. Looking up, he met the slightly uneasy and guilty black eyes of the person sitting across from him. The red-haired boy was momentarily stunned, then an uncontrollable itch began to stir in his heart—not a kind of warmth, but a kind of malicious anticipation, as if he was about to watch a good show.

His golden eyes swept over the other’s face, and Leoza smiled.

“Don’t smile so disgustingly in front of me, trash,” the man beside the black-haired youth said in a low voice, his eyes closed but seemingly aware of everything as if he had a third eye on his forehead.

Tsk, almost forgot there’s this nuisance here. Leoza’s face scrunched up like magic, instantly turning into a pitiful pout. His golden eyes widened, and tears welled up, hanging precariously at the corners.

Having spent years surrounded by rough men and being a rough man at heart, Miguel was shocked by the beautiful boy’s tears. He reached out and shoved the culprit twice. The man, swayed by the push, opened his eyes impatiently, but before he could say anything, he was distracted by a gasp from the other seat. Frowning, Caesar shifted his gaze from the navigator to the red-haired boy, who was curled up and sobbing as if he were about to die.

“…What the hell are you doing, shorty?” After a pause, Caesar asked harshly.

Leoza was already short, and now, curled up, he occupied the smallest corner of the carriage, trembling from sobbing, his narrow shoulders shaking—his neatly pressed earl’s uniform was crumpled, making him look particularly pitiful.

“Brother, are you still mad at me?” Leoza sniffled, “I really didn’t mean to leak your information to the Barbarossa brothers…”

Brother?

Well, that’s new.

Caesar raised an eyebrow, then almost wanted to kick open the carriage door, stick his head out, and laugh to the heavens three times—this perverted shorty had never used the word “brother” since he could walk, so what was this all about?

Turning his head, he saw that a certain gullible navigator beside him was radiating a nauseatingly saintly aura, his face filled with heart-wrenching pity.

So Caesar immediately knew what Leoza was up to.

Kids will be kids, always putting on a show to get attention… figuring that there wasn’t much the little brat could do in such a small carriage, he decided not to expose him. Changing his posture, the man prepared to close his eyes again—until he felt the person beside him move. He lazily opened one eye and saw Miguel leaning over, awkwardly patting the red-haired boy’s head—his neatly styled wine-red hair was messed up, but the one comforting him was so engrossed that he didn’t notice the person he was comforting was peeking through the gap in his off-the-shoulder dress.

“……” Too stupid.

Caesar clicked his tongue, unable to watch any longer.

The sound made Leoza pause dramatically, then he started trembling even more, causing the black-haired youth to turn and glare at the man in disdain: “Don’t be so harsh.”

The stupider you are, the harsher I’ll be. Curling one side of his lips, the captain gave him an extremely mocking smile.

While Miguel was busy rolling his eyes at the jerk, the crying Leoza cautiously looked up, quickly glancing at Caesar. When his golden eyes met the sharp amber ones, as if stung by something, the red-haired boy quickly looked away, cautiously leaning closer to Miguel. After confirming that the other’s hand was resting on his shoulder, he moved his lips and whispered pitifully, “Brother, do you forgive me?”

Creak—

At that moment, the carriage stopped. From the sounds outside, it seemed they had arrived at the estate where the ball was to be held. Outside, the music started up again, and people’s voices grew closer. Inside the carriage, the tall man sitting at the far end stood up first, his shadow almost completely enveloping the other two.

The carriage door was pushed open a crack—outside, the bright sunlight poured in, illuminating his handsome face.

“You’re dreaming, Leoza,” the man said coolly as he jumped out of the carriage, “And if you keep pretending to be pitiful, I’ll rip your face off.”

…Hmph, bring it on, old man. Facing the threat, Leoza was completely unfazed. On the surface, he pretended to be on the verge of tears again. While Caesar’s back was turned as he got out of the carriage, Leoza grabbed Miguel and rubbed his flat chest a couple of times, smearing tears and snot on the expensive dress before letting go. Looking at the other’s helpless expression as he looked down at him, the red-haired boy wiped his sore eyes with his sleeve and smiled in satisfaction.

Hmm, these eyes are beautiful, staring at me like a puppy.

…Such a good, obedient child.

It’s such a waste to have him on Caesar’s ship.

Watching Miguel stumble after Caesar, holding up his skirt, Leoza stood there, lazily shoving his hands into his pockets. His gaze wandered critically over the retreating figure, and when he saw the shabby old shoes peeking out from under the extravagant skirt instead of delicate high heels, Leoza couldn’t help but burst out laughing.

Behind him, Edward, the first mate of the Hornet, who had just stepped out of another carriage and witnessed the scene, was utterly horrified.

For some reason, the captain, with his red-rimmed eyes and genuine smile, looked particularly menacing. Hesitating, he bent down and cautiously approached.

“Captain?…”

“What?”

“Juan II is ready. Once Caesar hands over the ownership of the three islands, we can move.”

“Hmm? …Oh, do whatever you want.”

“Then… what about the navigator?” Edward asked hesitantly, “After Caesar’s finished, should we still follow the original plan and take him onto our ship?”

“…Him…” Leoza fell into a rare silence. Just as Edward thought the captain might change his mind, he heard him drawl slowly, “Let’s wait and see. Don’t act too hastily.”

“Huh?”

“Just do as I say. Don’t ask so many questions.”

Frowning, Leoza tugged impatiently at his neatly buttoned shirt, clearly unhappy and surprised by his own hesitation. “Ahhh!” he exclaimed in frustration, crouching down and ruffling his already messy long hair.

…It’s not that I’ve suddenly grown a conscience.

It’s just that I’ve suddenly grown a bit attached to those puppy-like eyes staring at me. What should I do?!