Chapter Text
Flevance was one among the first cities in North Blue to surrender itself to Mariejois; a decision made by the mayor named Wapol and his councilmen who considered themselves realists rather than cowards. With the king of North Blue captured and the great losses suffered in the war, resistance only seemed more pointless and there were certainly more favorable opportunities to be had by allying with the powerful, influential Mariejois Empire. If you can’t beat them, join them, the mayor had told those who’d openly objected. A shield to protect himself from the criticism and guilt.
While some of the citizens of Flevance considered the decision an insult to those who’d died fighting for the North and their families who mourned their deaths, others were relieved to see an end to the useless struggle that, to them, was only associated with misery and poverty. Flevance and all of the North was now, despite the official surrender, a divided nation. One half bitter and resentful, and the other celebrating their newfound peace and restoring wealth.
Rebellions followed for a time. Citizens left their homes and families to join with soldiers who had not yet given in to the enemy. And the Mariejois nobles of the Celestial Dragon army were, as a result, tasked with cleaning up the messes that inevitably followed such stupidity.
About two months after Flevance’s surrender, mayor Wapol received a letter of much importance from his steward one morning. The initial displeasure of being so rudely awoken at dawn was quickly lost on him and the scolding he had been ready to unleash upon the unfortunate messenger died on his tongue when presented with the identity of the sender.
Written in elegant, cursive letters of fine black ink, that infamous name stared back at him almost as intensely as a pair of eyes could. But it was the pink wax seal at the back of the envelope, stamped with the sender’s own crest, that really convinced him of its importance.
Wapol dared not break the seal right away. It would be nothing short of an insult to be hasty and tear through such fine craftsmanship of paper, wax and ink. No, such a letter had to be treated with delicacy and respect. And so, fifteen minutes later he found himself in his office fully dressed with a hot cup of chamomile tea to calm his nerves. It offered little comfort, however, and his hand trembled as it reached for the letter opener.
Carefully he ran the sharp silver blade along the top edge, little by little until the envelope opened fully to reveal the several sheets of paper within, and the same elegant writing that lined them.
Lord Doflamingo Donquixote was to arrive in Flevance two weeks from now. As per the emperor’s demand, the Warlord had been put in charge of the region and was to manage the stately affairs until things had settled properly. The letter further stated that while mayor Wapol would keep his title and estate, no political decisions were to be finalized without Doflamingo’s approval. He was to be granted a seat in the city council and act not only as an official member, but as an advisor as well.
The Warlord’s involvement was just as much of a necessity as it was a right; for whether the Flevance lords and ladies wished it or not, North Blue was in store for some alterations that only a true Mariejois noble would be able to manage.
While explaining this in his letter, Doflamingo made sure to express his confidence that he would be fully able to cultivate Flevance and teach its people the proper Mariejois way of living. And in doing so, the city would prosper once more and become greater than it had ever been.
The letter ended with a few additional demands and some very specific details on how lord Donquixote wished to be received. There was certainly much work ahead for the poor mayor and with only two weeks at his disposal to meet these demands, he immediately sprung into action after reading the final sentence.