A sharp knock echoed through the palace chamber, snapping Queen Titi from her brooding thoughts.
She glanced up in a fluster, her eyes darting to Gion. If someone spotted the world's greatest swordsman lurking here now, it could spark all sorts of ugly rumors. But when she looked, Gion had already vanished—melted into the shadows like a ghost. Titi let out a quiet breath of relief.
She'd never seen Gion fight firsthand, but his reputation spoke volumes. Dominating Alabasta's guards would be child's play for him.
"Who's there?" she called, steadying her voice as the heavy doors creaked open. Her composure returned, though her brows knit in irritation at the untimely interruption.
With Ross's arrival looming, she'd sent her maids to the banquet hall to finalize preparations. No one should be bothering her until Ross and Cobra return.
Under her sharp gaze, the doors swung wide, revealing a burly figure with hands like meaty paws.
"Your Majesty," the woman said, bowing her head. "It's just me."
Titi's frown deepened at the sight of Terracotta, the palace's head chef. She was Igaram's wife—both of them built like walking barrels, stout and unyielding.
"Terra? What brings you here?"
Terracotta shuffled forward, her robust frame casting a wide shadow. She wasn't supposed to leave the kitchens until the feast was set.
"I'm sorry to interrupt your rest, Your Majesty." Terracotta dipped into another apologetic bow, though her eyes betrayed a flicker of unease.
Titi wasn't blind to it. Terracotta's hesitation screamed trouble—likely something messy she didn't want to hear right now. A knot of dread twisted in her gut.
"Has the banquet food been prepared?" Titi asked, keeping her tone even.
"Mostly, yes. We're just waiting for that Celestial Dragon to arrive. It's my first time cooking for one of them, and I'm all thumbs about it," Terracotta replied, her voice thick with worry. She wrung her hands, glancing away.
Titi sighed inwardly. Terracotta had a point—the Celestial Dragons were infamous for their whims. A poorly seasoned dish could end with someone in chains.
"I can't offer much advice there," Titi said, her frown lingering.
Terracotta shook her head quickly. "No, Your Majesty, that's not why I'm here. You and King Cobra visited the Holy Land Mary Geoise. I was hoping you'd share what the Celestial Dragons like—their customs, their tastes. I don't want to offend and end up... well, you know."
Her voice cracked on the last words, eyes wide with fear. "What if they drag me off as a slave for bad service?"
A stifled snort escaped from behind Titi. Gion couldn't hold it in any longer.
Titi shot a covert glare over her shoulder, fighting her own smirk. Picturing Terracotta's hefty two-hundred-pound build next to Ross's refined tastes was absurd. The Saint was a notorious perfectionist—his slaves were all stunning beauties, handpicked for their looks. Terracotta offering herself up? Ross wouldn't even blink.
"Your Majesty?" Terracotta peered up, confused by the odd sound. Was her fear really that amusing?
Titi covered with a forced chuckle, her cheeks warming as she realized Gion was tucked right behind the throne. "Don't fret, Terra. Saint Ross isn't the worst of them. Treat him with respect, and he'll be pleased. He loves fish, but picks out the bones—he hates those."
Terracotta's eyes widened. "You know so much about him already? As expected from you, Your Majesty."
Her pulse quickened. Titi's familiarity with the prince hit too close to home, stirring the suspicions I'dgaram had mumbled in his sleep. The chef's husband had been restless lately, muttering about Titi's "affair" with the incoming noble—and worse, that the child she carried might be his. If true, it could topple Alabasta.
Terracotta needed answers before Cobra and Ross arrived. She couldn't let Titi make another reckless move.
"I picked up a few details during our time together in the Holy Land," Titi said smoothly, though her sharp eyes caught Terracotta's tension. The subtle flinch confirmed it: the chef knew something. Or suspected.
Now it was clear. Terracotta's husband, Igaram—Cobra's most trusted advisor—must have pieced it together from Igaram's trip to Drum Island with Titi. Otherwise, how would Terracotta connect the dots?
A whisper brushed Titi's mind—Gion's voice, low and urgent, likely through some subtle Haki trick. Need a hand? If she walks out that door spilling secrets, you're exposed.
Saint Ross gave strict orders before I came, Gion continued. If your secret leaks, it's your call. We stay out unless the child's at risk. But if it spreads and threatens her, Ross will end everyone who knows—except you. And it won't stop at a handful of bodies.
Ross had laid it out plain for Gion. He'd sent the swordsman ahead to scout Titi's situation. If Cobra had caught wind, Gion would assess and extract her. Ross didn't need heirs to carry his name, but anyone harming his woman or unborn child? They'd pay in blood.
Titi hesitated, her mind racing. The secret couldn't spread—not even a whisper. But silencing Terracotta now? It might unravel everything, drawing eyes where they didn't need them. And Titi's heart wasn't built for cold kills; Terracotta was no threat, just a worried wife grasping at shadows.
"Your Majesty?" Terracotta pressed, noting the queen's distant stare. Her own thoughts churned—maybe Titi was coerced, trapped by Celestial Dragon cruelty. Igaram wouldn't suspect otherwise. As husband and wife, they shared everything in the quiet hours. That's why she'd come: to gauge the truth, to stop a scandal before it erupted.
Titi blinked, forcing a smile. The air in the chamber grew thick, the weight of unspoken accusations hanging like storm clouds over Alabasta.
—
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