114.

I stared at the birthday gift Kano had sent, my brows furrowing slightly.

“Do you recognize it?”

Erika asked, carefully watching my expression.

“How could I ‘not’ recognize this?”

I replied, my voice tinged with disbelief.

This dagger was unforgettable. The rusted blade, still bearing faint stains of blood, held deep significance in my relationship with Kano.

It was the very dagger I had used years ago to deceive him into forging the most unreasonable oath imaginable. Back then, Kano had come to McFoy, claiming he wanted to repay the kindness the family had shown him. He left that day bound by a blood pact, duped by a cunning fifteen-year-old lord.

Our pact wasn’t a typical agreement overseen by a priest or validated through sacred rituals. It was a forbidden blood oath, enforced by Mehra’s power, where breaking it meant instant death. It was, in essence, no different from a curse—and it had long been banned across the empire.

Kano had come to McFoy with the pretense of honor, only to be tricked into an illegal pact akin to a slave contract.

The moment I sliced my palm with the dagger, Kano realized too late what was happening. He tried to snatch the bloodied blade from me, but the deed was already done. Enraged, he pointed the dagger at my throat, intending to drive it in.

But he couldn’t. The pact had already taken hold, rendering him incapable of harming me. When the truth dawned on him, his rage boiled over.

 

“I swear, I’ll find a way to break this damned oath. And on that day, I’ll use this dagger to slit your throat. I’ll kill you with my own hands!”

 

The murderous intent in his voice was chilling. He was so furious that the blood vessels in his eyes burst as he screamed at me.

As for me, a brazen fifteen-year-old, I was trembling inwardly but refused to show it.

“Sure, go ahead. Try it! Let’s see you break the ‘unbreakable pact’ and take my head with that dagger!”

Even as blood dripped from my palm, I shouted back, undaunted. At the time, fear didn’t register—I was too stubborn to back down.

“You crazy girl!”

“Finished yelling? You’ll never regret shaking my hand. You didn’t want to spend your life as a pirate, did you? I’ll make you wealthier than any king!”

Kano, exasperated by my audacity, clutched his neck as if trying to calm himself. Finally, he slammed the bloodied dagger into the table with enough force to flip it over, letting out a long, guttural roar of frustration. That day, I saw firsthand what it meant to flip a table in anger.

That was my first encounter with Kano and the beginning of my connection to this dagger.

Despite the immense wealth that eventually came from our partnership, Kano never stopped searching for a way to break the oath. He carried the dagger with him always, as if to remind himself of the vow he had made to destroy it—and, perhaps, to keep his promise of slitting my throat.

Over time, as it became clear that my success directly benefited him, our relationship shifted. We grew oddly familial, our partnership deepened by shared struggles and mutual respect.

It was around then that Kano began to see me not as a precocious little girl but as an equal. Building a trading company together fostered a sense of camaraderie, and the years inevitably brought a bond neither of us could deny.

Even so, he never abandoned his search for a way to break the oath, nor did he part with the dagger.

As for me, I didn’t feel resentment toward him for that. Kano was the freest soul I knew, and expecting him to abandon his principles for my sake would have been hypocritical. Besides, the oath was, in many ways, no better than enslavement.

To be fair, at the time of our first negotiation, I’d lacked the power to control him completely. And he was a pirate.

The world was a cruel place where no favor came without a price. Kano may have come to McFoy under the guise of offering help, but his priority had been to secure his own gain.

I couldn’t afford to sit idly by and let a pirate seize control of my family. The forbidden pact had been the most underhanded yet effective preemptive strike a young lord could muster.

I didn’t regret deceiving him, nor did I feel guilty. Guilt would have been an indulgence I couldn’t afford.

Still, I couldn’t deny the shock I felt when Kano didn’t visit McFoy during the birthday celebrations. Despite his unwavering sense of honor, he was deeply emotional. The possibility that he might revert to hostility gnawed at me.

Yet here he was, returning the dagger.

Receiving it felt akin to being knighted for the first time.

“Ha!”

I let out a hollow laugh, turning the dagger over in my hands. Despite its modest size, it was a weapon meant for killing, and the nervous glances of the servants around me made that clear.

“Kano’s being uncharacteristically elegant. Did someone coach him on this?” I muttered, unable to suppress my curiosity.

“Perhaps. But Lord Kano does have a surprising streak of sentimentality. After all, wasn’t it romance that drove him to the seas in the first place?” Erika quipped, her analysis cutting as always.

I laughed aloud, her dry wit hitting its mark.

“I’ve always had rotten luck, but maybe it’s because I’m blessed with good people. He’s… always been more of an adult than I am.”

“Kano certainly has an unwavering sense of loyalty, something you lack,” Erika remarked with a sly smile.

“He’s insufferably fixated on this ‘manly honor’ nonsense, though,” I shot back, earning a rare chuckle from her.

“Bring me a quill and paper. He’s shown me sincerity; it’s only right I respond personally.”

“Yes, my lord,” Erika replied, her rare smile lingering. Even she seemed pleased by Kano’s gift.

As she left to fetch the supplies, I found myself gazing at the dagger once more. It was impossible not to be touched by the gesture, even if Kano’s intentions remained shrouded in his usual gruff mystique.

* * *

“Wait, so you really sent a rusty dagger as a birthday gift?”

Kano, who had been staring wistfully at the horizon while nursing his drink, finally snapped. His expression darkened as he turned to the persistent voice beside him. He’d been ignoring it for hours, but his patience had its limits.

“’Hah… Where on earth did you hear that from? For the love of Mehra, leave me alone, you drunken fool. Get lost. Just go away.”

Kano’s exasperated muttering only made Merke Rodensi’s face light up with glee. Her radiant smile caught him off guard, leaving him momentarily breathless.

“Finally! A reaction. Of course, it had to be her that got you to talk,” she teased.

“Am I speaking a different language? I’m pretty sure this is the imperial tongue. Have you forgotten how to understand it? No, clearly not, since you’re responding—damn it,” he muttered, his irritation morphing into bewilderment.

Merke Rodensi, thrilled by his reaction, laughed louder.

“Ahaha! Rumors are all over Ikiyo. They say some fool sent a rusty dagger to the woman he loves as a birthday gift. But surely it wasn’t just any dagger, was it? What’s the story behind it?”

“Just you! You and your incessant, reckless mouth are the only source of those rumors! What kind of idiots would let the contents of the package slip to someone like you—ugh, for the last time, get lost! Unless… wait, could it be you actually have feelings for me?”

“Could it be that you’re seriously that self-absorbed?” Merke Rodensi replied with a dramatic sigh, her tone dripping with mockery.

Kano flinched. The words struck a nerve, perhaps because they echoed something Aisa had said to him once. His face twisted, and Merke Rodensi’s triumphant smile widened.

Kano’s grip tightened around his drink, his knuckles whitening as if he might shatter the bottle. Unable to take it any longer, he shot to his feet and stormed out of the tavern. Anywhere without Merke Rodensi would be better than this.

Of course, she followed him without missing a beat, chattering incessantly.

Percy, his lieutenant and bodyguard, trailed behind with a nervous expression, glancing between his commander and the chaotic woman at his heels. Lowering his voice, Percy leaned closer to Kano.

“Commander, could it be that woman actually has feelings for you?”

Kano’s face hardened. His stride quickened.

‘Feelings for me? If only it were that simple.’

Kano hadn’t asked Merke Rodensi about her supposed “interest” in him because he believed it. It was just a jab—a petty way to irritate her.

His instincts and sharp wit told him the truth: Merke Rodensi didn’t have feelings for him. She was simply a chaos-driven thrill-seeker who found his misery amusing.

To Kano, she was a perpetually drunk, reckless hedonist—a moth flitting toward any flame to stave off the boredom of her shallow existence. Her antics weren’t born of affection but a desperate pursuit of stimulation.

She had probably come to Ikiyo for the so-called “ultimate thrill” and stumbled upon him: a prideful pirate nursing a heartbreak. He was just the most entertaining thing in her sights.

For a fleeting moment, Kano entertained a dangerous thought.
‘Wouldn’t it be easier to just get rid of her?’

 

“Remember, Merke Rodensi can’t die yet,” Aisa had cautioned him once. “If Billinent becomes a discarded pawn, she might have to take the throne. You know as well as I do that if the imperial family’s name changes, it’ll spell trouble for the great nobles.”*

 

Kano groaned, raking a hand through his hair in frustration. Just then, a frantic young recruit sprinted toward him.

“Commander! Commander! A reply! A reply from her!”

From Aisa McFoy.

For a moment, the world seemed to still.

Kano’s irritation melted away as he took the letter, his heart pounding harder than he cared to admit.