Calm Belt – Amazon Lily
It was a curious thing.
The Calm Belt was supposed to be impassable. A trap of sea kings and still waters that devoured the prideful.
But my ship—painted in royal whites and etched with the golden sun of the Celestial Sigil—parted the sea as if Poseidon himself knelt before it.
Because fear was thicker than seawater.
And I had declared a visit.
Not an invasion.
Not a command.
Just a visit.
The most dangerous kind of all.
At the Shore
They waited for me.
Hundreds of them. Spears in hand. Bows drawn. Fierce and ready.
Kuja warriors.
And at the front—stood her.
Boa Hancock.
The Pirate Empress.
The woman who had once been a slave.
Who had once worn chains in Mariejois.
The moment our eyes met, I saw it.
Murder. Pure and sharp.
She hated me.
But she couldn't act. Not here. Not now. Not in front of her people.
I had made sure of that.
Diplomatic Etiquette
"I come under white flag," I said, stepping off the ship alone. "In peace. With a gift."
From behind me, a case was lowered.
Inside it?
A collar.
Broken. Melted. Turned into a crown.
I held it in my palm and said, "The last chain ever used on your island."
Gasps.
Even Hancock faltered for a half-second.
Her sisters, Sandersonia and Marigold, whispered urgently behind her. She raised a hand to silence them.
"What do you want, worm?"
Worm. Bold.
I smiled. "To talk. And perhaps… to admire."
The Snake Throne
They led me into the palace. I didn't comment on the fact that no man had stood here in centuries.
I didn't need to.
Every step I took was blasphemy.
And I relished it.
Hancock sat upon her throne of coiling stone serpents.
"I should kill you," she said softly.
"You won't," I replied, taking a single chair opposite her. "Because I didn't come to conquer you. I came to understand you."
"Lies," she spat.
I leaned forward. "Then indulge my lies."
The Conversation
We spoke for hours.
About slavery.
About power.
About kingdoms and bloodlines.
I told her of the empire I was building. Of the rot within Mariejois. Of how I had no desire to fix it—only to own it, reshape it, and enjoy it.
She listened. Not because she wanted to, but because she had to. Because I never once raised my voice. Never once made a threat. Just honesty.
Twisted, raw honesty.
"You think you can tame this world?" she asked.
I smiled. "No. I think I can teach it to kneel."
The Trap
At dusk, I stood on her balcony with a glass of exotic fruit wine.
She approached quietly, dress flowing in the ocean breeze.
"You're worse than the others," she said.
I turned. "Because I don't pretend."
"No. Because you enjoy being hated."
Her voice was venom.
But her steps drew closer.
I met her eyes—those cruel, piercing sapphires. "You hate me more than anyone. You hate my name, my blood, my existence."
She said nothing.
"But you'll still dream of me tonight."
Her fingers trembled on the glass of wine before she turned away.
And that was all I needed.
Back on the Ship
Raisa waited for me in the captain's quarters. She was draped in silks, lounging on the bed with Mireille at her feet, braiding her hair.
"You were gone long," she said.
I sat beside them. "She's strong. Beautiful. Broken. I want her."
Mireille looked up. "She'll never submit."
"No," I said softly. "But she'll break herself trying not to."
Epilogue – The Dream
That night, Boa Hancock sat alone in her throne chamber.
Her sisters had gone to sleep.
The moonlight spilled in like silver threads.
And in the silence of her chamber…
…she touched the place where the melted collar had once burned her neck.
And dreamed of a crown.