120.

Secret. It wasn’t new for the bastard to act as if he could hand over his own secrets whenever he pleased. Yet every secret he shared with her was rooted in her despair. He tightly gripped her jaw, tilting his head slightly downward. His breath pressed close against her ear.

“Now everything is ready. You’ll reunite with your husband within a week.”

Malicious whispers poured out.

“Though I suppose a head alone won’t satisfy you, will it?”

* * *

“What is this?”

“It’s an item entrusted to me by the Viscountess.”

“My wife… gave this to you?”

His superior, receiving the report, stared at the compass with unreadable eyes for a while. The longer Cardier remained silent, the more Hugo’s shoulders slumped downward. This definitely looked like trouble—serious trouble, the kind that would earn him a scolding harsh enough to make his eyes pop out.

If he were to offer an excuse for the delayed delivery, it was because official permission had been hard to obtain. Cardier’s ship was stationed at the front lines, while Hugo’s supply vessel was positioned at the very tail end of the rear forces.

Under such circumstances, delivering a “personal report” required leaving his post—an action that, during wartime, absolutely needed approval from his commanding officer. And every time Hugo wrote on the request form that he had “urgent matters to report to Lieutenant Montrosa,” it was rejected outright.

Ideally, Hugo should have been serving closely under Cardier, but for some reason, his assignment placed him in a rear support unit far from the action. He didn’t know the exact reason… but it seemed he had fallen out of favor with his direct superior. He had no idea why.

Otherwise, there was no way the Duke would assign such… a trial to Bartholomew’s eldest son, who had graduated top of his class in the regular naval training program. While his peers were earning military honors, he alone was stuck counting how many grain sacks remained… Had Hugo still been properly serving as Lieutenant Montrosa’s aide, Melvin would have informed him the moment he arrived.

Anyway, no matter how many excuses he made, the undeniable fact remained that nearly ten days had already passed since he met Melvin. Finally, Cardier shifted his gaze from the compass and nodded toward the letter lying beside it.

“That.”

“It’s a letter. Again, from the Viscountess…”

“I’m not asking who it’s from. Did you confirm the contents?”

“Yes. But the content is utterly unbelievable. A compass that points toward what you desire…?”

“Now you’re passing judgment too?”

“My apologies.”

Hugo snapped a sharp salute and stepped back. He was certain Cardier would immediately check the letter’s contents—he had personally witnessed how, in the past, Cardier would go to any lengths for his wife.

Yet Cardier did not read the letter right away. Not only did he not read it, he placed both items into a drawer as if they weren’t even worth reconsidering, then closed it. Sensing Hugo’s bewildered gaze, Cardier gave a slight nod toward the door without so much as twitching an eyebrow.

“You may leave.”

“Y-yes…”

Well, if he was told to leave, he would leave… But with that expression, Hugo slowly shuffled toward the doorway, and in the end couldn’t resist speaking up.

“Sir, if I may be so bold…”

“If you know it’s bold, then shut your mouth.”

“Did I fail to mention? It seemed urgent.”

“You reported accurately.”

Now, with an extremely calm expression, he unfolded a report. He didn’t even glance in Hugo’s direction. This… truly seemed like an emergency—just as puzzling as the countless question marks swirling in Hugo’s mind. As Hugo hesitated by the door, fidgeting with the knob, Cardier finally looked up from the documents he’d been signing with irritated strokes.

“Anything else to bother me with?”

“No, no, nothing…”

* * *

The war dragged on. Rosetta, confined to her room all this time, knew this because Nick’s visits had grown less frequent. The longer he delayed, the more time she naturally spent awake and clear-headed. Sometimes just a few hours, sometimes half a day, and on days of intense battle, she remained fully conscious for an entire day. During those times, Rosetta leaned against the wall, feeling the massive flow of water around her.

Even if Nick hadn’t rambled on, she would’ve quickly realized they were in the middle of war—the air thick with gunpowder and the scent of blood. They must be in turbulent waters. The ship rocked violently. At this rate, the standard naval line formation would easily fall apart, and firing accuracy would significantly drop. As if confirming her judgment, a stray cannonball immediately struck the sea surface. The sound made her ears ring.

Occasionally, thick fog enveloped them. There was no doubt—this was Calypso’s magic. Commonly known as the Fog Veil. It was obscenely expensive—depending on quality, one bottle could cost thousands to tens of thousands of sol—and yet Nick was using it like water. He couldn’t possibly have discovered a gold vein, so the conclusion was clear: Calypso was truly on Nick’s side.

Rosetta struggled to her feet and staggered toward the door. Just in case, she pulled the handle, but all she heard was the firm, locked latch clicking shut. She pulled it once more. Given Nick’s cautious nature, even if he had locked the door, he wouldn’t have left it unguarded.

“Hey.”

An unpleasant sound, like a long-unused instrument, escaped her throat. Rosetta cleared her throat loudly and pushed her diaphragm again.

“Hey! Is anyone out there?”

Given the chaos outside—cannon fire, fog, the stench of blood—Rosetta considered the possibility that the guard had left his post without permission. But an answer came soon enough.

“What is it?”

“What’s happening out there?”

Her voice trembled with fear. It wasn’t hard to fake. Her raw, shaky vocal cords already made her voice quiver uncontrollably. The guard seemed to hesitate briefly—torn between pity for the fragile woman trapped inside and Nick’s strict orders. His silence made it obvious.

“…?”

Rosetta was certain the guard would give in. If Nick had personally assigned him as her guard, the man was likely one of the more gentlemanly pirates. He might have some pity, but not deep compassion; his loyalty would be outweighed by fear of Nick or by having some weakness exposed. Now, all she felt was disgust—but this was what it meant to truly understand each other. Rosetta moistened her lips and pleaded.

“Please. Just tell me what’s going on.”

A sigh. He seemed half-convinced. Rosetta scratched at the door once more, begging.

“I don’t know anything… I’m so scared. I’ve been locked up this whole time. How much harm could knowing the situation do?”

She waited anxiously. Soon, a cautious voice slipped quietly from behind the door.

“No need to be afraid. The Sea Witch is with us. The Captain released the fog.”

“The fog?”

“The Sea Witch’s fog. We used that veil to sink a fifth of Esperanda’s navy. Even the most skilled navigator loses direction inside it. No one can pursue us through that veil.”

Ah, Calypso. Could she have calculated this far ahead when she passed on the compass? Cardier should’ve read the letter she left. Damn it, this was exactly the problem when they parted on such bad terms. Given Cardier’s nature, once he decided to turn his back on her, he wouldn’t spare even a speck of thought for her—whether it was a letter or her remains.

“What day is it today?”

“By Esperanda’s maritime calendar, the 314th day.”

That meant they were entering early winter. Considering she first met Cardier in his wife Lea’s body during early spring… so many events had occurred in just a few seasons. Now that the guard had lowered his suspicion, he added more details about the current situation. Thanks to the fog, they’d been able to conduct one-sided bombardments, defeating over twenty Esperanda naval ships with only thirteen sloops.

“I never want the Sea Witch as an enemy. We’re winning because of her… but there’s something ominous about that power.”

Despite his overall optimism about the battle’s progress, the guard’s voice carried an unmistakable undercurrent of fear. Rosetta feigned surprise and asked.

“It’s more shocking that you only have thirteen sloops. And you sank over twenty Esperanda warships with that?”

“Of course, we didn’t sink all of them ourselves. When we risk our lives, using fog to launch flanking and rear attacks, that’s when Tilsen’s navy finally moves their heavy backsides to snatch up the glory.”

“…There’s nothing easier to sink than a fleet whose formation has collapsed.”

She understood. Assign dangerous missions to disposable pirates, then let the navy steal all the credit. That Nick was desperately targeting Cardier wasn’t just out of jealousy—it made more sense that he needed undeniable military achievements to secure his position.

“I should stop dawdling. The noise is dying down—looks like the Captain will arrive soon.”

A faint wariness crept into the guard’s voice. Her words reminded him of Nick’s warning: don’t respond if she speaks, give her no information. Before the guard could leave, Rosetta decided to ask one last question that had been on her mind.

“One last thing. Why do you follow Nick… Captain Nicholas? He isn’t even a legitimate heir of Kirgos.”