Chapter 44

Even as the banquet began, Caesar was still brooding over the earlier interaction between the two idiots in the carriage who had declared “Friendship forever!” During the dance, he casually held onto Miguel’s not-so-slender waist, swinging him around. The courtly dance steps were much more complicated than the haphazard dancing they had done in the tavern. When the man effortlessly spun the black-haired young man into a passive 360-degree turn, the long black hair flew through the air. With an expressionless face, Caesar pulled the person in the black dress back into his arms, striking a pose as the music ended.

A small circle of ladies around them gasped in envy.

“How about you just throw me into the trash bin by the entrance?” Miguel straightened up, panting slightly as he pushed Caesar away. “I’m never dancing with you again in this lifetime.”

The man didn’t care, lazily smiling as he prepared to inform the naive navigator that whether or not they danced wasn’t something a mere slave could decide. Suddenly, a commotion arose at the entrance. Looking up, he saw that the envoy sent by Juan II had arrived. When his gaze landed on the long wooden box the envoy was carefully holding, the amber eyes of the man lit up with rare interest.

Reaching out to pinch Miguel’s chin, teasing him like a cat, Caesar absentmindedly scratched the navigator’s chin with his fingers and said slowly, “Wait here for me like a good boy. One hour. If you run off, I’ll break your legs.”

After speaking, his eyes wandered, pausing on a certain red-haired young man who was chatting and laughing in the crowd not far away. Still uneasy, he added, “And stay away from Leoza—if you dare tell me ‘he’s just a kid’ again, you’re dead.”

Ah, how did you know what I was going to say? Miguel responded with a sycophantic smile. Caesar gave him a warning glance, then let go and walked toward the envoy. The two were soon surrounded by the crowd, exchanging a few words in Spanish at a leisurely pace. Suddenly, the crowd parted like the Red Sea, and a girl in a white dress emerged from the middle.

She had golden hair and blue eyes, with long curls cascading down to her waist. Her delicate high heels sparkled, possibly made of real crystal. Her arms were as pink and tender as lotus roots. Whether her chest was big or not was unclear, but it was certainly real. Her face, backlit by the sunlight, was hard to see clearly, but from the way she walked, it was obvious how excited she was.

And then, she leaped up and wrapped her arms around Caesar’s neck.

And then, right in front of everyone, they kissed.

Blind my eyes. Miguel stood frozen in place, looking up at the sky. His worn-out shoes, scuffed from a month of rough deck work, rubbed against the soft carpet beneath him. For some reason, the navigator suddenly felt a pang of melancholy.

Everyone around them was watching the “Big Dog” and the girl—whoever she was—kissing passionately. Miguel clicked his tongue, thinking that seeing dogs mate was bad luck. With an expressionless face, he pulled an apple out of his chest and took a few crunchy bites. The unevenly bitten apple looked as hateful as Caesar’s head.

Suddenly, a heavy weight slammed into his back, and someone unexpectedly draped themselves over Miguel’s neck.

“Pfft—”

The apple in his throat nearly shot out from the force.

The person behind him quickly let go, patting Miguel’s back as he choked and bent over—though the pats were so forceful they almost shattered his internal organs. Through his tear-blurred vision, Miguel vaguely saw the shoes of the person in front of him. Like Caesar’s, they were finely crafted riding boots, likely made by the best shoemaker in Italy.

“Sorry, sorry,” a flustered voice came from above his head. “I didn’t know you were eating… huh, where did you get that apple?”

The banquet only had cakes, various drinks, and some simple cookies. It didn’t seem like there was any fruit prepared…

As the young man pondered this, Miguel pulled another apple from the other side of his chest and generously handed it to Leoza. “Here, have this.”

Leoza: “…”

Miguel: “I washed it before leaving. No pesticides. Go ahead.”

“…” Leoza calmly placed the apple, which had come from a rather unusual place, into his pants pocket. The large pocket bulged comically with the apple’s shape, clashing with the elegance of his formal attire. But the young man seemed completely unfazed. He widened his beautiful golden eyes and asked, “What were you looking at just now—”

Watching a dog’s mating session. Miguel mumbled something, his eyes darting around before he honestly gestured toward Caesar with his chin. The shameless pair had finally separated, and now the girl was clinging to the “Big Dog,” excitedly chattering away in rapid Spanish… tsk tsk, sticking so close, aren’t you afraid of getting covered in dog hair, girl?

After a moment of thought, Miguel suddenly felt he was being too harsh. That wasn’t good—it wasn’t good for his karma.

So he turned to Leoza, putting on a fake, earnest, and utterly hypocritical expression, and said, “What a beautiful woman. She and our captain… they’re such a perfect match.”

“That’s Princess Bijia of Spain. She’s an old acquaintance of Cae—my brother,” Leoza said, his eyes narrowing. Secretly delighted by Caesar’s self-destructive behavior, he continued nonchalantly, “This time, Juan II was willing to make a deal with him, probably because Bijia put in a good word. You know, the Spanish navy isn’t exactly welcoming to foreign pirates… but this woman isn’t anything special… I mean, compared to others, my brother’s harem is more impressive than the king of Spain’s. It spans the entire Mediterranean.”

Miguel: “Heh.”

Leoza: “I heard that when he returns to Germany, the line of women waiting to greet him stretches from the docks to the city center.”

Miguel: “That’s a bit of an exaggeration, but still… heh.”

As the two chatted, the band started playing again. The crowd that had gathered around Princess Bijia and Captain Caesar finally dispersed, returning to the dance floor. Of course, the central figures on the dance floor were now the captain and the princess. Miguel tossed away the apple, almost able to feel the gloating and pitying gazes piercing his back… but it didn’t matter. He had thick skin—a few stares wouldn’t make him lose a couple of pounds. As the saying goes, life is like Angry Birds: when you’re down, there are always a few pigs snorting and laughing around you.

Miguel instinctively raised his hand to scratch his head but suddenly remembered he was still wearing the damned wig. The scratching motion turned into a sultry hair flip. So, all those who were sneakily glancing at a certain corner of the dance floor saw this scene—

A black-haired, straight-haired Eastern beauty, who had previously been demure and quiet, suddenly flipped her hair, bent down, and slung her arm around Count Leoza’s shoulder like a buddy. The two then marched out of the ballroom toward the terrace like a pair of unstoppable tanks.

The heavy curtains of the terrace were pushed aside, then closed again.

…

“What’s wrong, Caesar?”

“…Nothing. When is the deal being signed?”

“Later,” the princess smiled, slowly resting her small head on the tall, handsome man’s chest. Her eyes held a complex emotion. “At least stay and finish this dance with me.”

On the terrace.

As if completely unaware of the chaos among the nobles behind them, Leoza leisurely followed Miguel out for some “fresh air.” After a series of observations, Leoza felt he had discovered something quite interesting. For example, Caesar’s navigator didn’t seem to hold the usual “crew’s respect or fear for the captain” toward Caesar. It seemed more like…

Hmm, more like the kind of feeling Captain Leoza had for Navigator Miguel… Well, to be precise, it wasn’t exactly a feeling. It was just a simple desire to bully the other person until they cried using a certain part of his body!

He wanted to see it. He really wanted to see it. He wanted to see those puppy-like black eyes filled with fear as they looked at him.

He wanted to see those puppy-like black eyes brimming with tears, begging him to stop or slow down.

He wanted to see those puppy-like eyes clouded with lust as they reached their climax.

He wanted to see those puppy-like black eyes filled with desire from his touch and caress.

…Damn, just thinking about it was making him hard. Biting his lower lip, Leoza got angry at himself, pouting as he tugged at Miguel. In his frustration, he accidentally used a bit too much force, and with a tear, a piece of Miguel’s skirt came off.

Miguel froze. What a monster! How could this kid have such strength?!

An awkward silence followed.

“What kind of cheap skirt is this?” Leoza pouted, angrily blaming the victim. “Is this how Caesar treats you? With this kind of low-quality stuff?”

Miguel: “…What are you talking about… I don’t usually wear skirts, wake up.”

“What? You don’t usually wear skirts?—Oh right, last time I saw you, you were dressed pretty normally. So, my brother hasn’t touched you yet?”

Miguel: “…Huh?”

Leoza stood on his tiptoes, leaning closer to Miguel’s frozen, iron-like face, and pressed, “He hasn’t touched you, right?”

With Leoza’s buzzing questions in his ear, Miguel’s face went blank, and his brain finally creaked into motion: Is the “touch” here the kind of “touch” I’m thinking of? If so, what’s this kid thinking with such impure thoughts…? Wait, forget that. First of all, can we not jump topics so quickly? Old folks like me can’t keep up and might accidentally spill the truth!

A few seconds later.

Having somehow already reached a conclusion in the silence, Leoza exclaimed, “Great! He hasn’t touched you yet!”

Miguel: “Why are you so happy about that, kid? You’re not even fully grown yet.”

“I am! I’m fully grown!” The red-haired boy retorted, glaring seriously. “Besides, didn’t you touch it already?”

Miguel: “(⊙o⊙) Oh?… Yeah, I did.”

“Pretty big, right?”

“…Not bad.”

“How does it compare to my brother’s?”

“…I haven’t touched his.”

“Oh!”

Another awkward silence followed.

Miguel raised an eyebrow, looking at the young man who was staring at him so seriously. Suddenly, he felt the urge for a herd of alpacas to stampede through his mind: Wait, kid, what kind of bizarre conversation is this? Wasn’t this supposed to be about getting some fresh air?!! Why do I suddenly feel like I can’t breathe—!!!

Suddenly, with an impatient tsk, Leoza’s expression changed… It was a look that was somewhat unfamiliar to Miguel. The innocence in his golden eyes was gone, replaced by something resembling disdain, mockery, and anger.

For some reason, Miguel suddenly felt a sense of danger and instinctively took a step back.

But his wrist was immediately grabbed, and the grip was so strong it almost crushed the bones in his wrist—

His upper body was pulled down, and Miguel opened his mouth, his pupils shrinking slightly in surprise as he watched that pretty little face come closer and closer. Then, something wet and soft pressed against his lips, playfully biting his lower lip. It hurt a little, and the black-haired young man frowned, trying to break free and push him away—

As if anticipating this, a hand appeared on the back of his head, forcefully pushing his head forward—

The other’s agile tongue slid between his teeth, as if carefully and patiently searching for a foothold, then pried it open and invaded without permission—

But Miguel’s tightly clenched teeth offered no opening, and the young man frowned in dissatisfaction. Amidst the clashing of lips and teeth, he let out an impatient grunt, then opened his mouth and bit down hard on Miguel’s lower lip—

The taste of blood spread between their lips and tongues. Miguel winced in pain, instinctively letting out a cry. Having achieved his goal, Leoza smirked, standing on his tiptoes to press forward for a deeper invasion—

Suddenly, a loud gunshot interrupted their actions.

In the ballroom beyond the terrace, the melodious music suddenly went off-key, mixed with the screams of women, the sound of men running, and tables being overturned—

Really, why did they have to act now?

Pushed away by Miguel, who had snapped out of it, Leoza wiped away the saliva that had accidentally spilled from the corner of his mouth in dissatisfaction. Just as the black-haired young man turned to head back to the ballroom, Leoza grabbed him.

Miguel turned back, his cold gaze making Leoza pause for a moment.

“Wait for me in the cell,” the red-haired boy hesitated, then said, “I’ll come and rescue you.”

At first, Miguel didn’t understand what Leoza meant.

But when he pushed open the terrace door and saw the princess lying in a pool of blood, along with Caesar covered in blood, he understood.

Thirty minutes later.

In the dungeons of the Spanish royal palace.

The navigator lifted his rag-like skirt and gleefully kicked his cellmate—”Hello, Captain? Enjoying your time in the slammer? Pretty novel, huh?”