Hearing Queen Otohime's seemingly ambiguous words, Darren slowed, eyes meeting hers with amused understanding.
"I'm deeply sorry, Vice Admiral Darren," she said, sincerity plain. "The Fish-Men are in a dire position. His Majesty and I had no choice but to take this step. Fish-Man Island… needs your protection."
A flicker of helpless worry moved in her clear blue gaze.
Darren's smile returned as their steps continued. "Protecting Fish-Man Island is no problem. And you've already put my statue in Gyoncorde Plaza, haven't you?"
"At the ceremony, I even served as your witness. That news will spread across the seas soon enough. Everyone will know Rogers Darren stands behind Fish-Man Island."
He saw through it at a glance: the statue and the witness role were leverage—Queen Otohime's hand rather than Neptune's. Use a Marine's name to cow poachers and the cruel. In its way, it made him "Queen Otohime's man."
"Your goals are already met, aren't they?" he said, a small smile touching his mouth.
Otohime bit her lip. "Tiger-san returned a few days ago," she murmured. "He told us what he suffered as a slave—and how deeply he owed Vice Admiral Darren."
"In this turbulent world, the Fish-Men need allies like you."
The music faded. Their steps slowed to a stop; her skirt swayed like a flower settling.
"Then, Queen Otohime, it's been my pleasure." Darren bent, brushed his lips over her gloved hand with knightly grace, and returned her to Neptune waiting nearby.
"Your Majesty Neptune, your eye is impeccable," he added with a smile. "Queen Otohime will be the greatest and wisest royal consort in your island's history."
Neptune laughed, pleased. "Vice Admiral Darren, you flatter us. Still, we're deeply grateful you honored us today. Please enjoy the party." He gestured toward the cluster of noblewomen hovering, expectant. "Our guests are eager to dance."
"Alas," Darren sighed with mock gravity, "duty calls. As a Marine, I must foster goodwill among nations and care for the people."
Neptune: …
Otohime: …
As Darren strode toward the waiting ladies, the royal couple's shoulders eased.
"So… is he angry?" Neptune whispered.
Otohime shook her head. "Not at all."
"He's far more approachable than I expected," she added, a hint of puzzlement in her sapphire eyes. "And he doesn't seem the lecherous, shameless man the rumors describe."
"His gaze has none of that crude lust I see in others," she went on. "It's clear—simply a pure appreciation of beauty. His manners are impeccable. He hasn't overstepped once. His self-control is remarkable."
She touched her chest lightly, brows knitting. "Many of the delegates here have ulterior motives—some even hoping for scandal. But Darren-san sincerely wishes us well."
Neptune blinked. If he didn't know Otohime's Observation Haki could read a person's heart, he might have wondered if Darren had bewitched her.
That God of Slaughter who nearly cleaved Fish-Man Island in two with his Demon Blade… That Marine Disgrace with a litany of affairs…
Could he truly be this honorable?
The rumors fit Garp well enough, but applied to "the greatest disgrace in Marine history," something rang off.
Well, as long as he bears no ill will toward Otohime…
He squeezed her hand, letting a breath go.
Sensing his thought, Otohime's smile gentled. Resting against his chest, she chuckled softly. "Even that Marine Disgrace, Vice Admiral Darren, has a code—twisted as it may be."
Neptune glanced toward the Vice Admiral charming queens and consorts with effortless ease and felt his mouth twitch. "You're certain?"
"Yes," she said. "He only flirts with those already interested in him. He avoids approaching wives and women loyal to their husbands."
"What an… interesting man."
Neptune fell silent, staring. The sigh he let out was long.
Living like that… I'm so jealous.
---
"What a pack of shameless women!"
In a shadowed corner, Stussy stabbed her steak so viciously the fork rang against porcelain. Her jaw worked; murderous heat rolled off her in waves, scattering the curious who had been inching closer.
"They call this love? That bastard will devour them, wipe his mouth, and toss them aside without a thought," she hissed, eyes knifing toward Darren.
"But what does it matter?" a voice beside her mused. "Vice Admiral Darren is so handsome, so sexy, so perfectly built… Even one night would be a lifetime memory, wouldn't it?"
Stussy cut her a sneer. "Then go."
The young woman—dressed like a royal princess—flushed to her ears. "I—I'm not of age yet. Otherwise, I… I would."
She bit her lip and pointed. "See the lady in black? That's my mother, Your Excellency. And the one in red beside her—the one about to start a fight—that's my aunt. Mother's younger sister."
Stussy: …This noble circle is truly a mess.
Before she could finish the thought, the neighboring princess sighed. "The butler says Mother and Aunt already booked the most luxurious suite on the island. The other madams, ladies, and princesses did, too."
"Every hotel on Fish-Man Island is fully booked tonight."
Crack!
"I'm not eating anymore!"
Stussy shoved back her chair and stood, face dark, then strode for the restroom. The little princess flinched, eyes round, staring at the twisted knife and fork on Stussy's plate—warped into pretzels.
To be continued...