Arc-4 Ch-08

The air was a tepid mix of metal, oil, wood, tobacco, liquor, and the stench of people.

The interior of the airship, manned by sky pirates, was a chaotic assembly of exposed steel beams, pipes, and haphazardly attached panels that barely concealed critical mechanisms. The inorganic tangle of metal parts, flickering and grinding as they operated, resembled the innards of a colossal beast—raw and grotesque. Unlike a passenger ship built for comfort, the pirate vessel was stripped to the bare essentials.

The pirates’ maintenance of the airship was far from adequate. Cigarette butts and empty liquor bottles littered the corridors, and the neglected floor felt damp and sticky, clinging to boots with every step.

Dorothea, Jenna, Finley, and I were escorted by two pirates each, one on either side, to prevent escape. We walked through the narrow corridors, shoulders nearly brushing, following orders. I kept my eyes moving, memorizing the layout of everything in sight. Knowing my surroundings could be critical if an opportunity arose. Scanning the ship discreetly was tricky—overt movements might arouse suspicion and worsen our situation.

If I knew more about airships, I might have deduced the ship’s internal structure. That kind of knowledge was Leon’s forte. A man who rose through the ranks of the kingdom’s military by capturing pirates, he was unmatched in his understanding of airships and pirate tactics. Few in the Bartfort territory, or even the capital, could rival his expertise, save for specialized military personnel. Could Leon have the makings of an adventurer? If I escaped this alive, I’d love to explore a dungeon with him someday.

“What’re you smirking about?”

I turned to see one of the pirates eyeing me suspiciously. Was I smiling? I hadn’t realized. My thoughts of Leon were a way to mask the anxiety gnawing at me.

I needed to find some clue to signal our situation to Leon and the others. Fortunately, we weren’t shackled, but four women against a crew of pirates were at a severe disadvantage. If only I’d brought a concealed pistol or knife, I might have had options. My gaze dropped, and I noticed my slightly swollen belly. Among the four hostages, I was the least able to take risks. Jenna and Finley had become hostages to protect me, a fact that gnawed at me. They saw me as Leon’s wife, more significant than themselves, but to Leon, his sisters were just as precious—none of us were replaceable.

We followed the pirate leader and Lutart, the apparent head of the group, through the corridors, turning corners and descending stairs several times. The heavy silence weighed on us. Finally, we stopped before a thick door. A forceful knock—too harsh to be polite—preceded a grating screech as the pirates slowly opened it.

“Get in.”

A sickly sweet aroma wafted from the room, growing stronger and more unpleasant as we entered. The room’s decor was bizarre. Peeling walls were adorned with odd paintings, and the furnishings lacked any cohesive style or era, creating an eerie, disjointed atmosphere. The artwork was unlikely to fetch much value—ironically, the frames might be worth more. It felt like a collection of stolen or smuggled goods, haphazardly gathered to impress. The room reflected its owner’s lack of taste or refinement, a crude attempt at grandeur.

“Mother, Sister. I have returned.”

Rutart bowed respectfully as two women emerged from the back of the room, their eyes fixed on me with disdain. The older woman, gaunt and caked in heavy makeup, wore an overly ornate dress that clashed with her frame. The younger one, though attractive, was equally gaudy, her dress revealing and her makeup exaggerated. Their appearance was so ostentatious it bordered on comical. From Rutarts deference and the pirates’ behavior, these women seemed to hold some authority—likely nominal.

“You’re late! What’s taking so long? How much time does it take to raid a ship full of lowborn scum?” the older woman snapped.

“Useless as always! This is why I can’t stand men!” the younger one added.

Rutart shrank, head bowed, while the pirates smirked, barely hiding their amusement. The women might hold titular power, but the pirates clearly ran the show. The dynamic was obvious to me, yet the women seemed oblivious to their own diminished status—a pathetic irony.

“My apologies,” Rutart said. “But we’ve secured an unexpected prize and wished to report immediately.”

“What, a fortune in transit?” the older woman asked.

“I’d prefer clothes or cosmetics. I’m sick of being stuck on this filthy ship,” the younger one whined.

“Hey, come on, ladies,” the pirate leader interjected in a jovial tone. “Give us some credit. We scrounge through the loot to bring you the best, don’t we?”

“That’s expected!” the older woman snapped.

“You just do as we say,” the younger added.

“Of course, as you wish,” the leader replied, his tone mocking. “The prize is the Bartfort girls. With them, our restoration might not be a dream.”

Jenna and Finley were yanked forward, groaning as their arms were gripped tightly. I tried to approach, but a pirate blocked me, forcing us apart. Rutart grabbed their hair, roughly turning their faces toward the women. I wanted to protest their harsh treatment, but another pirate stopped me. The women’s faces twisted with hatred, their glares piercing Jenna and Finley, who met their stares defiantly, intensifying the room’s tension.

“How dare such filthy beasts live so brazenly while we’re cast aside?” the older woman spat.

“Let’s see how we can make them suffer,” the younger one added.

“You’re still alive, Zora, Merce? I thought you were long dead,” Jenna said.

“So tenacious. And sky pirates, no less? It suits you,” Finley added.

“Shut up!” Zora barked.

“Don’t you dare speak!” Merce hissed.

Their hands flew, and sharp slaps echoed. Yet Jenna and Finley held their ground, unflinching.

Zora. The name rang a bell. Zora Fou Bartfort, once married to my father-in-law, a court noble’s daughter and the former lady of the Bartfort house. Stripped of her title for misconduct, desertion during the war with the Fanoss Duchy, and abandoning her duties, she’d vanished. So, this was her—along with her daughter and son. Their aim was likely the Bartfort family’s wealth or title.

But their plan was doomed. The kingdom would never grant lordship to those without noble status, especially not to cowards who abandoned their land and people. Their schemes were futile.

“You stole our house while we were gone! Lowborn filth like you are the worst!” Zora shrieked.

“You don’t need dresses or jewels! Those are ours! Hand them over!” Merce demanded.

“Stop it!” I shouted as Zora and Merce tore at Jenna and Finley’s accessories like ants swarming a crumb. Their clothes were modest—quality material but muted colors, blending with common passengers. The necklaces and earrings were affordable, nothing extravagant. The women’s obsession with adornments over substance hinted at a warped sense of value, perhaps twisted by years of piracy. Their manic eyes, gleaming at the trinkets, betrayed their madness.

“Take them if you want. They suit your fallen state,” Jenna sneered.

“Insolent brat! You’re not even worthy to speak to us!” Merce retorted.

“No, you’re the ones beneath us now,” Finley shot back.

“You filthy mutt!” Merce screamed, her fists pummeling Jenna’s face. Blood spilled from Jenna’s mouth and nose, splattering the floor. The blows weren’t powerful, but repeated strikes added up. After about ten hits, Merce, panting, stepped back. I prayed Jenna’s bones and teeth were intact.

“We’ll take back what was stolen—our status, our glory, our wealth!” Zora declared.

“Take back? You abandoned it! You fled, cursing Father for protecting the land!” Finley yelled.

“Die in a war? Never!” Zora snapped.

“And you call that noble? You’re the cowards, playing pirates!” Finley retorted.

“Silence!” Rutart roared, striking Finley with his sheathed sword. Whether he meant to kill or simply forgot to draw the blade was unclear. Regardless, our survival odds were dwindling. The pirates claimed they’d hold us for ransom, but Zora and her kin seemed intent on more than that. Their vendetta against Jenna and Finley was especially vicious, and I couldn’t let my sisters-in-law endure it. Despite their flaws, they were family.

“Enough,” I said, standing tall and facing Zora’s group head-on. Jenna and Finley’s eyes pleaded for me to stay quiet, but I couldn’t back down. Cowering to villains was unacceptable.

“If you don’t guarantee our safety, there’s no deal. No one will pay a ransom for corpses.”

“Who are you?”

“Angelica Fou Bartfort. Leon’s wife.”

“What!? That filthy brat’s wife!? Why’d you bring a woman like her!?”

“She’s a hostage. For someone as arrogant as that upstart, this’ll be the ultimate humiliation.”

“Hmph, I heard he took in a girl whose engagement was broken off. Quite the cheeky face she’s got.”

What a way to talk. It’s true that His Highness Julius broke off our engagement, and I’m aware my features can seem a bit sharp. But I’ve heard worse insults in high society; their petty jabs don’t even sting. Zora’s leisurely approach, as if to flaunt her superiority, only betrays her own narrow-mindedness—though she seems oblivious to it.

With every step Zora takes closer, a suffocating perfume assaults my nose. In an environment like this, bathing is likely impossible. Perfume has long been used to mask body odor, but the stench emanating from Zora suggests an excessive use of it—likely animal-based, not the refreshing plant-derived kind. The mix of overpowering animalistic scent and her sweat-soaked odor is nauseating. Their appraising stares and the foul air polluting my nostrils are utterly repulsive.

“No matter whose daughter you are, don’t think you’ll get out of this unscathed.”

“Maybe if we ruin that face of yours, that brat will scream and cry.”

“First, you’ll entertain me. Then I’ll hand you over to the pirates. Prepare to be broken, body and soul. And don’t worry, the other women will join you, so you won’t be lonely.”

Their vulgar expressions revel in the imagined cruelty. Perhaps acting so boldly was a mistake. I thought becoming hostages was necessary to avoid being killed on the spot, but things aren’t going smoothly. Has the airship we escaped from Bartfort territory ? The anxious faces of the children flash in my mind—our last farewell. If this is where it ends, I want to see Leon one last time. I wanted to give birth to our child. Regrets flood my heart, then fade.

At the very least, I want to face my end with dignity. I lock eyes with Zora and brace myself.

BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!

A loud noise, distinct from the airship’s hum, echoes through the room. It repeats, growing louder and more rapid. Zora and her group frown awkwardly, gesturing toward the door. A pirate opens it with a reluctant sigh, and burly men barge in. Their tanned, muscular frames exude the tense aura of seasoned fighters. They push past the pirates, positioning themselves between us and Zora’s group.

Zora, intimidated by their imposing presence, hides her mouth behind a fan, but her unease is palpable. The fear in their eyes makes them look like children scolded by adults, almost pitiable.

“What’s the meaning of this, Rutart?”

“W-What do you mean?”

“You took noblewomen as hostages. That wasn’t part of the plan.”

“Plans change. We found unexpected guests among the commoners on that ship, so we adjusted. A capable man adapts to any situation.”

“Oh? What situation?”

“These are Leon’s sisters. You can tell they’ve got that filthy commoner blood.”

I can’t fathom how Rutart distinguishes nobles from commoners. Zora’s family’s hatred for the Bartfort's and their obsessive fixation on titles are incomprehensible. From what I’ve heard from my father-in-law and my sisters-in-law, Zora’s side bears most of the blame. Is it so unbearable that Leon or his brother, with commoner blood, inherited the title? Their reasoning is beyond understanding.

“You changed the plan for these hostages? What a foolish move.”

“What’s wrong with it!? We can’t stand by while these scum take what’s ours!”

“You’re still clueless? Your cheap pride has ruined everything!”

The leader of the newcomers, a man who seems to be a former knight, roars back, making the three flinch. Rutart’s tantrum-like voice is nothing but a puppy’s yowl compared to the man’s commanding bellow.

“The goal was to keep raiding to cast doubt on Bartfort's governance in the capital! And you take his family hostage!? What happens when he comes for us in full force!?”

“That brat’s nothing to fear! If he comes, it’s perfect!”

“He defeated a duchy commander at sixteen! Facing him head-on is suicide!”

“Coward! And you call yourself a former knight!?”

“Shut up! Our organization’s already on the brink, and we can’t call for reinforcements! We can’t afford a losing fight!”

“Leon’s no big deal! If he comes, I’ll deal with him myself!”

“Then fight him yourself! Stop dumping your messes on us!”

The former knight seems to fear Leon, while Zora’s group belittles him. As his wife, I’m pleased my husband is respected, but in this situation, their underestimation might give us an opening.

“They’re not all! We nabbed Leon’s wife, too! And a count’s daughter! This’ll get him reprimanded and stripped of his title!”

“Reprimanded? We’ll be crushed first! You’re too stupid to see you’re making more enemies on top of an already shaky plan!”

“If his wife being taken spreads, his reputation will tank! If I report I resolved it, I can reclaim my noble status!”

“Leon Fou Bartfort's wife is the daughter of the Redgrave Duke! You think a duke will recognize the man who kidnapped his daughter!?”

“What!?”

“Huh!?”

“No way!?”

Zora, her group, and the pirates reel at the former knight’s words. They didn’t know I was a former duke’s daughter when they took me. They knew Leon received a title and land but didn’t even bother to learn who his wife was. What a sloppy plan—beyond infuriating, it’s laughable.

Raids alone rarely lead to a lord’s demotion or loss of territory. Only if they were colluding with pirates or breaking laws would that happen. Otherwise, punishing lords for failing to suppress pirates would spark noble backlash and destabilize the kingdom. This is a childish, poorly thought-out scheme, and the former knight’s frustration with Zora’s group is understandable.

“What do we do!?”

“No idea. You idiots changed the plan. It’s beyond fixing.”

“You fools! What have you done!?”

“Useless! Making an enemy of a duke’s house!?”

“S-Sorry!”

“You swore you had a plan, and we went along with it, only for this mess! We’re taking command from now on!”

“Be quiet! A mere former knight dares to act superior!?”

“You’re former nobles yourselves! Stop clinging to past glory and acting like lords!”

It seems this group is split into factions—Zora’s family, the pirates, and the former knights—vying for control. Zora and Merce berate Rutart harshly, the pirates feign indifference, and the knights keep scolding. Indeed, Leon will face reprimands from my father and Count Roseblade for our capture, even if we’re rescued.

But that doesn’t mean the pirates will be let off. The Roseblade family, having lost knights, will hunt them down to restore their honor. Their chances of survival are slim.

“Wait a sec. So, the kid can’t become a noble, right?”

“Exactly.”

“But we can still demand a ransom, yeah?”

The pirate leader eyes us with a sinister proposal. He’s far craftier than Zora’s group, as dangerous as the former knight.

“Bartfort's a laughingstock if word gets out his wife was taken. Same for the girl’s family. If their daughters are returned quietly, they’ll pay to keep it hushed, right?”

“...Maybe.”

“We need money, food, and water. Extortion’s not impossible, I say.”

“Do what you want. We’re not involved.”

“Heh, got it.”

“But we’ll manage the ladies. They’re bargaining chips if needed.”

“Hey, hold on! That’s too greedy!”

“We can’t trust you not to harm them. Ensuring their safety is obvious.”

“Don’t play innocent! You’re planning to cash in and ditch us!”

“And you’re not, you filthy rat?”

“Let’s settle this!”

The pirate leader and the former knight start arguing over our fate. Pirates draw guns, knights unsheathe swords, and the tension spikes. Zora’s group trembles, too scared to act. There’s no trust here—just a temporary alliance of convenience, with each side scheming to outmaneuver the others. If there’s a gap to exploit, this is it.

“Enough. If you’re going to fight, do it elsewhere.”

A clear, commanding voice cuts through the murderous air. Dorothea, silent until now, speaks up. Unfazed by the men’s glares, she stands tall, her noble pride unshaken. Even if it costs her life, she’ll never bend.

“Your quarrel has nothing to do with us. We’ll stay quiet, so take us somewhere else.”

Dorothea’s boldness in joining the argument without flinching is remarkable. The tension among the rough men eases slightly.

“Who’s this woman?”

“Dorothea Fou Roseblade, daughter of Count Roseblade. The other three came to meet me. Right now, I’m the most valuable hostage.”

“You’ve crossed not just the Redgraves but the Roseblades too!? Are you suicidal!?”

“Shut up! It just happened!”

“This is what happens when you act without thinking! Die alone if you want to die!”

“What did you say!?”

Dorothea’s words reignite the room’s chaos. The pirates, knights, and Zora’s group stop paying attention to us. At the edge of my vision, I see Jenna, beaten by Merce, and Finley, struck by Rutart, slowly rise. Moving carefully to avoid drawing notice, I check on them. The men, engrossed in their argument, forget to torment us. With a few words, Dorothea incited their conflict and secured Jenna and Finley’s safety. Her skillful maneuvering is impressive, but it also heightens my wariness.

This woman is dangerous.

In Holfort’s social circles, Dorothea rejected countless suitors. Beyond rude men, she turned down nobles of status with ease, surviving unscathed due to her keen observation and calculated moves. Her ability to manipulate men could spark chaos if she joined the Bartfalt family. A chill settles in my gut as I help Jenna up. Her face is swollen, but her eyes and nose seem intact, and her teeth aren’t broken. Finley, leaning against the wall, stands shakily.

I’ve confirmed their condition. Now, we need to escape this situation. With everyone distracted by their argument, this is our chance to ensure our safety.

“If you’re not done arguing, move us elsewhere. I’m worried about Jenna.”

I support Jenna, blood dripping from her nose and mouth, and plead. The thieves, growing fed up with Zora’s group’s brutality and recklessness, frown. They glance at us briefly, then wave dismissively. Three men, likely former knights, surround us. Their drawn swords signal they’ll cut us down at the slightest suspicious move. Zora glares as if to speak, but the men’s presence silences her. Supporting Jenna, I take slow steps out of the room. The argument continues even after we leave.

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Authors Note

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Zora & Merce Appear

In the original work, Zora, unaware of Angie's true identity, acts haughtily, and Rutart makes remarks suggesting he’s smitten with Angie or Livia. This is referenced here.

The Zora family is concocting a rather foolish plan, their cognition warped by dissatisfaction with their treatment in the Lady’s Forest and their own circumstances.

Their incoherent words and actions will continue for a bit longer.

As for Dorothea-san, she was quite a formidable woman in the original work, so I’ve depicted her with an aspect of a femme fatale*.

(T/N- it's a french words which means women who led men astray)

The next chapter will be rom Leon’s perspective, featuring everyone’s favorite Bartfort-style verbal slaughter.

I’d greatly appreciate your opinions and feedback, as they will motivate me moving forward!