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Judge’s reaction is nothing short of cataclysmic. He keeps himself under control as they stride out of Shimotsuki Castle, flanked by men and women in Roronoa’s livery, but the moment they’re safely aboard Germa’s flagship, his banked temper becomes fully unleashed.
“The absolute nerve of that brutish, uncultured barbarian!” He starts, slamming into the stateroom while Reiju and the three remaining princes trail behind him. “How dare he? How dare he threaten me, and all for the sake of that pathetic, useless traitor!”
An inkwell situated at the forefront of the heavy desk that dominates the room becomes the first victim of the King’s wrath. Grabbing it up in a large fist, he hurls it at the closest wall where it shatters into dozens of pieces and sends streams of ink spurting onto the floor.
“I won’t stand for it!” Judge bellows, more to himself than to anyone else in the room. “I have never been so humiliated in my life, and in public, no less! Surrounded by all of Roronoa’s little cronies, who will no doubt be all too happy to spread the word of his actions far and wide.”
“Yes,” Reiju says coolly. “To places like Wano, Ryugu, and Alabasta from the sound of things.”
That gets Judge’s attention focused solely on her. “Daughter,” he says icily, his voice indicating that he’s all but teetering on the brink of a reaction he won’t be able to claw his way back from. “I would hate to think that you’re getting any form of enjoyment from this … incident.”
“Of course not,” Reiju replies, inwardly smirking at the fact that he’s never learned to read the placid expressions she and her brothers tend to wear. “I’m merely looking at things logically. We always knew Roronoa had powerful allies in places like Kuraigana, but now we know the full extent of the situation.”
“Germa cannot win a war with more than half the great powers in the East,” she says flatly. “And right now, the only thing keeping such a war from starting is Sanji.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Judge scoffs. “Sanji’s incapable of anything of the sort.”
“ Sanji ,” Reiju corrects, “has Roronoa wrapped around his little finger. Or were you in a different audience than the one I attended right now? If it wasn’t for him, you’d probably be dead at this point.”
“What a foolish sentiment,” Judge retorts. “As if - ”
“It’s not foolish,” Reiju insists, surprising them both by cutting him off. “I don’t know what you were watching when we were in that room, Father, but I assure you my eyes were on them. Sanji physically restrained Roronoa from attacking you on at least three separate occasions. Had he not done so, I imagine we’d all be dead at this point.”
“Like hell ,” Niji barks, the first of her brothers to pipe up. “There’s not a chance we’d have lost to the likes of those people.”
“Why not?” Reiju counters. “After all, we’ve only just finished losing another war of our own making. And besides,” she adds when all four of her companions bristle, “did none of you actually look at who was present? Monkey D. Luffy was in that room. And Warlord Jinbe. And Firefist Ace. To say nothing of Roronoa himself. Once you include all the unknown soldiers and other allies they had there, I can only expect that the battle would have been both brutal and short.”
“Hah!” Judge grunts. “They got lucky in that we arrived at a time when so many people happened to be present. I’m confident that in a fight between only Germa and Shimotsuki, Germa would be the victor.”
“I’m not,” Reiju replies, unbothered in the face of his outraged look. “But even if you’re right, it’s a moot point. If we take down Shimotsuki, the rest of the country’s friends will wipe us off the face of the earth.”
“Roronoa said it himself,” she concludes, feeling oddly smug but successfully managing to hide it. “We can start whatever we want with them, but they’ll gladly finish it.”
Judge’s face goes nearly purple with rage. “ Rorona ,” he hisses on a voice that sounds like he’s chewing shards of glass, “is an animal who should be put down. ”
“I fail to see why,” she replies, making him blink. “It’s not his fault you never bothered to let him in on what you had planned for Sanji. If you had, you might not have underestimated either of them so badly.”
“Face it, Your Grace,” she says then. “You’ve lost this round. In fact, not only that, but your lack of due diligence has possibly created an enemy who might very well be this country’s undoing. From where I’m standing, we can now either take our licks and bow out as has been suggested, or we can put the final nails in our own coffins. The choice is yours.”
A tense silence falls over the room as she finishes her piece, leaving her and Judge standing on opposite sides of the desk, while Ichiji, Niji, and Yonji lump together in a single group. None of the princes say anything, but it’s clear they’re waiting for orders.
“ … fine ,” Judge spits after what feels like a small eternity has passed. “As much as I don’t agree with your entire assessment of the situation, I will acknowledge that some parts of it have merit. Therefore, we will leave this godforsaken little hellhole of a country, and Shimotsuki’s Demon can keep his new pet for as long as he likes. No doubt the shine will wear off eventually.”
Reiju’s half tempted to point out the fact that said shine has already had almost a year to wear off without success, but she opts not to rub salt in an open wound. Instead, she turns on her heel and leaves to give the order to depart.
*****
Because Germa’s troops are so well honed, it takes them almost no time at all to mobilize and get on their way. The traveling army is loaded onto the transport ships with speed, and soon they’re setting sail under the careful eyes of the Sun Pirates in the bay and an entire host of people from the shore.
Judge holes himself up in the stateroom, refusing to come out where anyone might see him. For her part, however, Reiju initially remains visible on the deck, but eventually slips away as they sail further from land.
Now hidden by the cover of darkness, she nevertheless stays outside, watching as Shimotsuki Castle gets smaller and smaller. At this point, she mainly only knows where it is because of all the still lit lanterns, and she chews absently on her bottom lip as she contemplates her next move.
She can’t leave Germa, that much is clear. Even if Roronoa would grant her sanctuary - and that much she’s far from willing to bank on - her defection would likely be too much to handle and would push Judge over the edge. On the other hand, her curiosity is getting the better of her. Even though she knows she shouldn’t, she wants to know more about the situation Sanji’s found himself in.
Thankfully, there’s another option. Judge’s scientific experiments throughout the years have resulted in all kinds of interesting technology, and she’s been one of the main beneficiaries of his many and varied toys.
The suits that provide their wearers with the capability of flight are still in their infancy stages, and only she, Ichiji, Niji, and Yonji have been gifted with them to date. Luckily, she has hers close at hand, as well as the pieces that provide extra stealth.
Slipping away with no one the wiser is thus a relatively easy feat, although she knows her time will be limited. If she stays too long, the fleet will be too far away for her to catch up, which will open up a whole host of new problems.
With that in mind, she heads straight for Shimotsuki Castle, but stays high enough and quiet enough that no one spots her. She drifts over top of whatever guards she spots, aiming for the area she knows contains the royal wing from a previous visit.
It’s not hard to figure out where the King’s chambers are located once she gets close enough. An elaborate balcony, much nicer than the others she passes draws her attention, and a quick glance through one of the many windows reveals high end furniture that is unlikely to belong to anyone else.
Landing quietly on said balcony, Reiju weighs her options as to whether or not she wants to slip inside and announce her presence. She’s certain she could do so easily enough, but the resulting drama might not be worth the effort.
She’s still considering how she wants to proceed when her keen ears pick up the sound of voices, followed by that of a door opening and closing. Crouching down low, she peers carefully through the window and is shocked to find a laughing Roronoa making his way into the room with Sanji flung over his shoulder.
For a brief moment her stomach plummets, and she finds herself thinking that the earlier scene in the throne room had all been some strange act. Then she realizes that Sanji’s laughing as well, even though he’s trying to scold his smug husband at the same time.
“Put me down, you brute!” Her brother insists, squirming in Roronoa’s hold and thumping his broad back with both fists. “I refuse to sit here and let you haul me around like a sack of potatoes.”
“I fail to see how you plan to stop me from up there,” Roronoa chuckles. “I do believe I’ve got you right where I want you, Your Highness.”
“ Hah ,” Sanji barks. “Well I’ve got news for you, Your Grace . If you ever want me to cook you onigiri again, you will put me down this minute . Otherwise, I’m going to make nothing but sweets for a month, and I’ll give you the thrashing of your life the next time we spar.”
“That last part is hardly a threat of any kind, but fine,” Roronoa says. Then, sighing dramatically, he proceeds to set Sanji down on his feet, snickering with amusement when the prince straightens his rumpled clothes with a huff. “I don’t know why you're bothering with that, you’ll be in your nightclothes soon enough.”
“It’s called having basic proprietary,” Sanji sniffs. “Look it up.”
“Mhm,” Roronoa drawls, clearly unmoved by Sanji’s words. “Nami tells me all the time how much I lack that.”
“That’s because Nami is a brilliant angel of a woman who should be running this kingdom in name as well as in practice,” Sanji informs him. “One of these days she’s going to stage a coup against you, and you’re going to deserve it.”
“You think so?” Rorona asks, unbothered. “Gracious. Will you still love me when I’m a poor roving vagabond with only my swords to my name, then? Or will you choose to keep your royal lifestyle rather than come with me?”
“Oh, don’t even joke about that, you dolt.” Sanji mutters, giving the bulkier man a sharp kick in the shin. “Obviously, I’ll be right there with you. If for no other reason than to keep your directionally challenged ass from wandering right off a cliff or something equally foolish.”
“Mhm, well then I suppose I’ll be content wherever I am, so long as you’re by my side.” Roronoa replies, his words causing Sanji to go pink all the way up to the tips of his ears.
“Bastard,” Sanji grumbles, most likely in an attempt to save face.
“Quite,” Rorona says with an easy grin. “But you love it.”
“Pfft, that’s completely untrue,” Sanji says loftily, holding his nose in the air. “I loathe everything about you. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go freshen up before bed.”
“Of course,” Roronoa demures, making a show of backing out of the way and bowing low as Sanji flounces past. “I wouldn’t want to get between you and your beauty routine.”
“You’ll thank me for said routine when I’m still young and beautiful looking forty years from now, while you’ve got skin like leather because you refuse to treat it properly.” Sanji calls from where he’s vanished into what’s presumably the bathing chambers.
Chuckling to himself, Roronoa doesn’t bother replying. Instead, he calmly removes the royal circlet he’s wearing from atop his head, setting it down on what appears to be an appointed rack to hold it, and begins perfunctorily removing most of the trappings of his clothes.
Once he’s down to little more than his breeches, he sits down on the bed that dominates the room, raising one foot so that he can begin unlacing his boots. Thanks to his current angle, Reiju now has an excellent view of not only the mottled scar tissue that bisects his chest, but also his wedding ring, which glints in the lantern light where it lies strung on a chain looped around his neck. As she watches, he absently swipes at it with one hand, the motion clearly one he does regularly.
“Did you fall in or something?” He asks conversationally as he finishes with the first boot and switches to the next. “Not even you usually take this long.”
“I’m fine .” Sanji’s voice, raised in a haughty pitch, drifts out of the bathing chambers. “Although, you won’t be if you’re dropping those filthy boots of yours by the bed again. Put them on the rack, Marimo. That’s what it’s there for.”
“You know,” Roronoa remarks, even as he stands to do as he’s told. “I never had things such as shoe racks in my life until you came along. And I got along just fine without them before that.”
“So you say,” Sanji replies, finally re-emerging, dressed in his sleep clothes. “But I have only your word for that, and both Nami and Usopp’s to dispute it. Now, go wash up and find something to sleep in that isn’t your underwear, please.”
“I could try sleeping in even less,” Roronoa notes, catching Sanji around the waist with a leer. “How does that sound?”
“Exhausting,” Sanji says flatly, although he has no trouble in leaning up to press a quick kiss to his husband’s cheek. “It’s been a very long day and an equally trying night. I don’t have the energy for anything other than crawling into bed with a good book.”
“I figured as much,” Roronoa admits, brushing a few stray strands of hair out of Sanji’s eyes. “Your latest recipe book is on my end table if you’re looking for it, and I’ll be back in a minute.”
“Your end table?” Sanji echoes, twisting around to glance at what Reiju’s going to presume is Roronoa’s side of their bed. “What’s it doing over there?”
“One of the servants must have moved it,” Rorona says, his voice muffled by a sudden rush of running water. It appears as if he’s taken Sanji’s direction to wash up seriously. “It’s unharmed if you’re worried about it.”
“I’m sure it is,” Sanji murmurs, casting one last look in the direction of the book before shuffling over to a well laden vanity instead. “And, as such, so too shall you be.”
A burst of laughter echoes out from the bathing chamber, and it’s not long before Roronoa pokes his head out. His hair is damp, and he’s mopping at his face with a cloth, grinning all the while as he snickers at her brother.
Ignoring him, Sanji sits down in front of the vanity and begins fussing with various objects that are littered across its surface. Meanwhile, Roronoa turns to toss the cloth back into the depths of the bathing chambers, and then saunters into the room.
“Do you want a hand with that?” He asks, nodding at where Sanji is in the process of carefully undoing the elaborate braid that his hair has been twisted into.
“Do I look like I need one?” Sanji asks.
Roronoa shrugs, his powerful shoulders flexing in the lantern light. “Not particularly,” he surmises, “but I figure since I’m the one that put them in, it’s only fair of me to offer to be the one to take them out.”
Pausing in the act of unlacing one of the ties that’s holding the braid in place, Sanji gives his husband a knowing look. “That’s very sweet of you, darling, but we both know you’re just looking for an excuse to fuss.”
“I don’t fuss,” Rorona scoffs, but Reiju can see a faint tinge of red spreading across the bridge of his nose. “I’ve never fussed in my life.”
“ Mhm ,” Sanji snorts. “You’re a terrible liar, you know. You should take some lessons from Usopp.”
“No, thanks,” Roronoa replies. “But what I will take is that brush. Give it here.”
Much to Reiju’s surprise, Sanji hands him the brush with little fanfare. Clamping the handle momentarily between his teeth, the fabled Demon of the East then makes quick work of the remaining ties in her brother’s hair, before he begins calmly brushing it out.
His scarred hands are remarkably gentle, moving with a quiet dexterity that shows he’s well versed in this particular act. He’s also approaching the motions with a heavy concentration, implying he takes this task seriously.
For his part, Sanji leans back in his chair and lets the other man go about his business. Closing his eyes, he makes a soft noise of contentment when Roronoa digs his free hand into his scalp, scratching lightly.
“That feel good?” Rorona asks, his tone suddenly hushed.
“Mm, yes,” Sanji replies, snagging his hand and pressing a kiss to the back of it, after which he laces their hands together. “Quite nice, really.”
“As happy as I am to hear that, this is a little tricky to finish with only one hand, Curls,” Roronoa points out. “Can I have the other one back?”
“Say please,” Sanji suggests, which immediately sees the pair of them degenerate into a halfhearted shoving match. “Mossball, be careful . If I lose an eye to an errant hair brush, you and I are going to have words .”
“No doubt.” Roronoa mutters, but he settles all the same, and it’s not long before he’s pronouncing Sanji’s hair to have been suitably dealt with.
“Wonderful, thank you,” Sanji grumbles. “Don’t you dare start playing with it and mess up!”
Roronoa makes a show of raising his hands in surrender, and shuffles backwards until his knees hit the bed. Letting himself flop down onto the mattress, he wriggles around until he can get under the pile of blankets and furs and then reclines back against the pillows with a sigh.
“Cozy, are you?” Sanji asks, rolling his eyes.
“Be even cozier if you were in here with me.”
“In a minute,” Sanji huffs. “I know moss is known for being clingy, darling, but a little patience won’t kill you.”
Roronoa now makes a disgruntled noise, and Reiju finds herself biting her lip as she’s hit with an unexpected urge to laugh. She’d meant it when she’d told Judge that she thought Sanji had the King of Shimotsuki wrapped around his finger, but she’d had no idea how right she was until just now. However unlikely it might sound, her brother has inadvertently landed in a home that’s the exact opposite of the one he’d grown up in, and he appears to be thriving because of it.
She has to leave soon, she knows, and as much as she’d like to say something to Sanji, she can’t bear the thought of breaking up this quiet moment of peace for him. Instead, she holds her tongue as he finishes what he’s doing and then pads carefully over to his bed.
“Scoot over,” he says imperiously, flapping a hand at Roronoa for added measure. “All those stupid muscles of yours are taking up too much space.”
“You like my stupid muscles,” Roronoa pronounces with the air of a man who’s confident he’s in the right. Nevertheless, he shifts to the side exactly as he’s been told.
He doesn’t stay there for long, however. As she watches, Sanji gets himself situated under the covers, propping himself up against a bunch of pillows, and reaching for the recipe book that Roronoa dutifully hands over when he asks for it. Then, as soon as he’s done, Roronoa slides over and curls around him like an overgrown house cat.
“Are you comfortable?” Sanji asks dryly, snorting when he gets only an answering hum in response. “I suppose I’ll have to take that as a yes.”
At first Roronoa doesn’t say anything, and Reiju’s just about to take off before he speaks again. “Do you think they’ll be back?”
Sanji doesn’t pause at where he’s now scribbling in his book with a quill, but nor does he pretend he doesn’t know who the other man is referring to. “I certainly hope not,” he says quietly, “but I suspect it’ll depend entirely on how successfully Reiju will be in continuing to rein Judge in. He doesn’t like to lose.”
“If he comes back,” Roronoa says in a voice that’s suddenly as hard as steel. “I’m going to take his head.”
That does make Sanji stop, and as Reiju continues watching, he moves to card his nearest hand through the green strands of his husband’s hair, his lips curving up in a fond smile. “Exactly how many more times are you going to complain about me not letting you stab the man?”
“Indefinite,” Roronoa grunts, which makes Sanji laugh.
“My doting moss.” He coos teasingly, yet there’s genuine fondness in his eyes when he leans down to press a kiss to Roronoa’s temple. “We’ve been over this. You’re not allowed to start any wars on my account.”
Roronoa heaves a massive, put upon sigh and mumbles something about this not being fair, but otherwise makes no move to disagree with him. Instead, he curls more tightly around the blond, and shoves his head back under Sanji’s hand when his fingers stop moving.
“Hedonist,” Sanji murmurs, resuming his petting.
“It’s either this or I go find Luffy, commandeer one of Jinbe’s boats, and start the kind of international incident that will make you very mad,” Roronoa replies. “Which would you prefer?”
“Fine. Fine, I accept your terms.” Sanji says, outright laughing now. “But quiet down, would you? I’m trying to work, and you’re distracting me.”
Roronoa makes an affirmative noise in answer, and Reiju acknowledges that she really does need to be going. She’s had her chance to confirm that her brother truly is happy, and this little slice of domestic life more than proves that he is.
Allowing herself a rare smile, she turns on her heel and slips away into the night.